Judge me all you want, but keep the verdict to yourself

I never thought that I could be a paranoid racist at a certain point in my life, but I did, and it just happened. Herman and I watched The Da Vinci Code last Sunday night at The Cathay, and there was an empty sit between us and another couple. Then came in a single guy of Arab descent (Pakistani or Sri Lankan, I'm pretty not sure) who confirmed to me the sit number right next to me; I concurred and he sat there; less than a minute later, he asked me if it was indeed the Da Vinci movie we were going to watch.

My mind started to whirl and crazy ideas popped into my head. This guy was watching the movie alone and he was carrying a backpack, which he placed neatly on his lap. I can't help but study his movements the entire movie; he looked pretty much like a suicide bomber to me (Herman shared the same fears). I've probably said a thousand prayers every time I saw him check the handphone in his shirt pocket. I kept racking my mind at which point in the movie would it be best to make a statement and set off the bomb. Towards the end, he was checking his handphone more often that, I think, irritated the other couple next to him, making the guy to tell him to shut it. Could he be eliciting the same fears with this couple as he does with us?

Right after the screen went black and the credits started to roll in, I pulled Herman up and went straight to the exit door (we were actually the first to get out). I knew I went a bit crazy, but by God! I really went through a huge deliberation inside my head. Like what Herman said, a single guy like him shouldn't get into a movie theatre carrying a backpack; the bag looked pretty much empty when he laid it on his lap, but why does he have to hold onto a roll of newspaper and not put it inside instead? He kept on checking his phone; is he waiting for a call or timing the movie, or could he simply got bored with all the lecturing in the film? I kept on telling myself that it's not gonna happen that night, not in Singapore, but then security in theatres can be lax; I haven't seen any guards in that building except at the ground floor by the car park entrance: it is possible.

We're still alive nevertheless; but my paranoia got heightened. I checked the exit doors inside the cinema while the movie was showing, which I normally do only when the movie has finished. I knew I'm not going to survive if it happens because, well, I'd be blown out to bits and pieces for I'm right next to the bag. I thought of things such as what's going to happen to my son, who would look after him if we're gone, would his godparents keep the promises they made during his baptism?

As the movie uncovers a conspiracy theory, I was cooking up one conspiracy theory myself. Anyways, I'm still whole and so are that bag and the man carrying it. All I can say is that watching The Da Vinci Code is one heck of an experience, but it's not something I could say about the film (and that's for another entry).