Future Husband

Reading this post reminded me of my college days.

One evening, my group of housemates came home with blushed faces. I asked them what went wrong? They told me they saw their future husbands’ faces. This remark aroused the attention of fellow housemates who were pretentiously studying in the living room.

“Your husbands must be very ugly looking?” I asked.

“No lah!! HAHAHHA! No comment!” they replied in unison.

I could sense their tensed emotions of anxiety and confusion.

“Wah.. then you have to bring us liao! We also want to see our future husbands’ face – if we happened to get married that is.” I insisted.

“No, please. You wouldn’t want to do that. You’ll regret it!” said one housemate.

“Really? Is it for real? I want to see! I want to see!” said one housemate who is well known for her negligible sense of humour.

A guy who came back with them assured he would help us. But we would have to wait for another night as the ritual would only effective during midnight.

“This is getting spooky!” I thought to myself.

The next night, after late dinner, the remainder seven of us waited anxiously for the guy to come over to our house with his “equipments” to summon the spirit that would lead us to seeing our future husbands’ faces. A candle, a torch light, a deck of play cards and a baking can (the big tub of tin used for baking cakes).

As he was explaining the terms and conditions – one should not get mad/pissed off when the faces were revealed, we ought to do this in darkness, nobody to whisper a word when the face begin to reveal itself or else, our future husbands will DIE, etc.

We were damn excited and worried at the same time. We waited till the clock strikes midnight.

We were to choose a card. I got number 7, my lucky number.

Lights were turned off. We gathered in a circle. In total darkness, we took turns to staring into a baking can filled with water. After a few minutes, we still couldn’t see anything.

“Of course we cannot see anything lah!! It’s so damn dark!!” I complained in suppressed whispers.

“Hush!! You are scaring the spirits away!” said the guy in all seriousness.

Then, we were instructed to put our index finger into the water and swirl it the number of times according to the cards we chose earlier and then, with the wet finger, we touched the bottom of the baking can, also going in circles according to the number of our cards we were holding. Then, using the same finger, we were to write the number on our cheeks, forehead and chin.

The guy instructed us to stare hard into the water to look further. I could not see anything. My hopes were dashed. I may end up a spinster afterall.

He insisted that I could see my future husband’s face if I looked hard enough.

We repeated the same task of touching the water and the bottom of the baking can for the second time and rubbing it on our face.

Still no signs of husbands’ faces.

The guy said, a drastic measure ought to be taken. Instead of using the baking can, it would be clearer if we were to check out the face in a mirror instead.

My heart sank deeper. This might be my final hope.

My fellow housemates were led one by one to the room, with a mirror set inside.

I heard screams from the room followed by hushes from the guy to shut them up. I cursed that the housemates didn’t follow instructions of keeping silence.

I was the third person to be led in.

Hearts pounding, sweat breaking, pupils dilating in the dark and heavy breathings.

With the help of a candle, I stared hard in the mirror.

For a few seconds, my brain could not register what I saw. My eyes got bigger and bigger, trying to adjust to light after a prolonged time in the dark.

I let out an enormous scream.

There, I saw my very own face, staring bewilderedly back at me – all covered in black soot.

Apparently, they burn the bottom of the baking can to blacken it and with our wet fingers, we rubbed it on our face with so much enthusiasm, hoping to see the faces of our future husbands.

My other housemates who haven’t seen their own dirtied faces were alarmed and confused at the same time.

I tried to control my laughter while washing my face in the bathroom, in order not to spoil the fun for my other housemates.

The housemate, who doesn’t have sense of humour was pissed. The rest of us couldn’t help but laughed the whole night away. Boy. That was 12 years ago! And no, I haven’t found anyone with soot on his face yet. Haha!