Sophia is not a girl. Sophia is not a hotel. No, things cannot be that boring, because
Sophia is a band. I started to have undying love for the band since December, 2006—in a harsh and bleak winter—when I first touched one of its albums called people are like seasons.
K, my high school soul mate, introduced the band and lent the album to me. The album was kind of love token to him because K bought the CD with his ex-girlfriend. As a matter of fact, I did not think, at that time, students like us were buying CD; instead, what we were doing in the shabby CD shops was more likely to be spending a whole afternoon using our own Walkman to “test” boxes of old CD, most of which came from USA and Europe and only had one copy in the box. We had confidence in our taste for music and could immediately distinguish our own type of music the moment we pressed the play button. Not many students had this kind of access to music and that was partly why we found it so cool. Hundreds of CD walked onto my shelf, as well as K’s. We were willing to exchange our treasures because we were looking forward to each other’s affirmative feedback on the CD and we knew each other even better than ourselves
Back to
Sophia, it really killed me. How could it be so perfect, so spotless and so seductive? I loved every single song in people are like seasons. I loved every haunting melody and every word in the lyrics. I even loved the design of the cover and its paper wrap. I listened to
Sophia day and night, sometimes under the foolish delusion that the earphone had fused and merged in my ears. K felt proud that I like it as much as he did, and so did I.
At that time, my small room was a big mess with CD here and there. Maybe that was why I lost it. It should have been in my Walkman because there was no need to put it elsewhere since I listened to
Sophia all the time. However, what was left for me, was its beautiful, empty wrap. I immediately realized I would never allow myself to tell K that I lost it. He would not be angry at me anyway, but I dared not to take the risk of facing his disappointed eyes and the endless blaming of myself.
I decided to try, sink or swim. And it turned out to be the first time when I got to know how powerful manpower could be. I asked all my friends who seemed to have a small collection of CD if they had ever bought or encountered
Sophia’s people are like seasons. They said no. However, I did not expect that several days later my friends’ friends came to me, “Hey, you have many CD? Do you know
Sophia’s album? One of my friends’ friends lost hers.” I was even more grateful when I heard the shopkeeper’s confusion about why recently many students asked for an unknown band, called
Sophia.
If we kept trying, it was possible that I finally found another and gave it to K, as if nothing had happened. However, I forgot K was also one of those friends, and a rather important and smart one. Definitely, he was asked. Definitely, he was the last one to be fooled in the world.
He called me and said if I really liked it, I could keep it as long as possible. I asked how long the longest was. He said as long as I was fond of it. I said thanks and really meant it.
K was a boy with few words, but the few words he said on the phone conveyed a lot. He did not deliberately pretend, though it sounded so, yet, successfully let me know that he knew what was going on. No embarrassment. No tension. No blame and no lie. He just naturally released me.
Indeed, people are like seasons, changing all the way to die. However, I am bent on listening to CD and will carry on regardless of all the advanced approaches to listen to music (mp3? mp4? mp5?), hoping that I could be taken a trip down memory lane when we could easily forgive and happily sing along.