Wednesday, June 30, 2010

ramblings of a mother

sigh. my daughter is growing up. i didn't have a chance to bade farewell to the toothy-grin adorable little girl who was so attached to me, or vice versa i'm beginning to think.

it was in the blink of an eye, the transformation. one minute she was still that needy toddler who is a little too mature for her age, and the next she is wanting her own space and privacy. i didn't realise when she stopped telling me things, about her life, about her school, and most about everything. she still tells me the run-of-the-mill stuff, like which teacher said what, which friend did what, which i should probably be grateful but she doesn't share her deepest fear, her innermost secrets with me. sigh. when did she start having secrets?! that little cheeky grin with the dimple on her left cheek, just below her eye.

i'm not quite sure i know how to bring up an adolescent. i believe i was absent the day they covered this lesson in children for dummies class. theoretically, you know what to do, but when it comes to actually doing it, it's darn hard. being nonchalant about the whole thing, taking each day as it comes, cutting your protective apron strings, heck i'm even at a loss on how to discipline them. they start to talk about lovey-dovey stuffs and they talk about boys and crushes. help!! they are barely out of their diapers. funny how you can keep cool when other kids are talking about it, joking and teasing them even, being their next best friend, but when it comes to your own child, you are ready to barricade the door and ground them for the next 120 years.

i need time to adjust, but the rate at which i am going, i will be ready to face my teenage daughter when she is 40 years old, by which time i'm outdated and will need to re-adjust again. this is a mother in denial. this is a mother who is constantly shaking her head from side to side and plugging her fingers in her ears. i look at other mothers who have little toddlers tottering about and i think in my heart, you have it easy.

excuse me, i need to rush off to the nearest book shop to get the latest copy of adolescent for dummies.

Friday, June 25, 2010

no taming of the shrew

the sad fact of life is that one must be fierce, brusque even to guarantee results in this cold, heartless world. it's a dog-eat-dog climate out there where one sign of weakness means you are at the losing end. when i was little, i thought that phrase was just for the movies, for fables and story tales. now i find myself adopting the same defensive stance where it makes a difference.

you walk into the room, you hold your head high, a little nose in the air even. you act like you matter, like you are someone important, and everybody else will think you are. i'm not preaching that you should be rude, never rude at any cost. all the requisite please and thank you's but with the air of someone who doesn't take nonsense and the answer 'no'. for that is what most people will tell you, NO. it's their very basic instinct, goes deep down in some unknown rookie training we have never heard of. NO. that's the one thing they teach you to say when faced with any question. sorry, we don't have it. sorry, we can't do it. sorry, it's not possible. give them a little of that 'i'm very busy, i can't wait, i won't take no for an answer' and wa lah! what do you know, yes, we have it, yes we can do it, yes it's possible, difficult but still possible.

why does our sick world work in this way? i have no idea. in my ideal world, you can be as nice to anybody as you please, you can smile, you can let your guard down, you can do nice things for strangers and not get hacked to pieces. however, there is no country out there that such a dream society can exist, not even in deserted islands. smile at the locals and you may just be staring down the eyes of a drooling man-eating cannibal. so, if you want results, if you want to be heard, act like you are the next primadonna in town and chances are, they will believe you are and fall over themselves serving you.

mum bought herself a gold loop earring whilst window-shopping one day. she called me the next day to moan that the earring broke when she attempted to open them. not perform wild acrobatic acts with them, mind you, just open them. sigh. i knew what will ensue but still there is no way out. i can almost see the scene that will unfold next. i was already worn out before it began.

we went back to the jewellers and complain about their poor quality product. i reasoned with him. i showed him how we opened the earring, which broke again in my hand as we spoke. he kept shaking his head. sorry, we can buy them back from you but you will have to lose some money, they said. lose some money?! it's less than 24 hours that we brought the item back and haven't even had the chance to use it and we have to lose money? they come up with lame defective stuffs and expect us to lose money over it? a classic case of big corporations against small individuals. i had no choice but to unleash the little shrew that i brought along with me in my little pocket. i went ballistic. . he kept shaking his head. sorry, he said, that's the rule. what rule? i don't see any rule displayed out loud and clear. i asked for his supervisor. i asked for his manager. i would have asked for his mother but obviously she has nothing to do with the matter. sorry for that man but i minored in law. i brought in what little knowledge i had about merchantable qualities and reporting him to the consumer association. i threatened him a little about the company's reputation, which i believe he doesn't really give a heck about. i brought out all the bullets i had and a little bit more. after i was done talking, he finally agreed to change it at the same price. i didn't feel one bit of satisfaction. why do things have to be so hard? why can't people do the morally correct thing? i felt totally drained and exhausted, despite winning the fight. life shouldn't be like that.

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

warning: epidemic of high fever

a new type of specie has just crept out from the woodworks, fresh from the oven. piping hot too. they are making more of it with every ticking of the clock. NFFBFF they call it. a lot of F's. neff-beff, that's how it's pronounced. stands for 'not football fan but fifa fever'. you see them all around you. could be your mother, your aunty, your brother or even your wife. they know nuts about football. they never watch a single match in their lives but suddenly, with the fifa bug going round, they talk ball, eat ball, breathe ball, sleep ball and of course watch football.

who's your favourite team? england, most probably. why? that's the only team they know. who's in the team? with beckham missing in action, most NFFBFFs are at a loss. wayne rooney! okayyyy, that's one. yes, of course now they will remember robert green as well.

hey, did you watch yesterday's game? portugal scored 7 goals against korea! yes, the defence was weak whilst the offense was not aggressive enough. *silence ensued, followed by the buzzing of a mosquito entering the scene flying past from left to right* not knowing how to talk ball, she turns quietly back to her work. when the ball's back in her court (pun intended), she drops it. that's the problem. they don't really know ball. they know it's 7-0 and it's big story, but that's all they know about it.

that's why i don't get it. people who doesn't normally follow football from any country, be it england premier league, spanish primera liga, argentinian football or even malaysian football, they wouldn't even blink an eye if chelsea's winning the cup this year or the red devil was just one point short of the winner. suddenly, they are interested to know if england will enter into the round of 16 and every other damn country. who watches korea football normally?! besides korean, that is. it's still the same black and white round football. now that the whole world is in on it, and it's THE hottest topic, they are suddenly very interested to spend hours after hours in front of the tv, watching the ball being kicked left, right and center. what's the deal? is it because it's only on every once in four years? so, something rare must be something good? i'm rare! there's only one of me in the whole world. *smirk*

i don't watch football, fifa or no fifa. i don't try to talk football, even if it's the most heated topic of the day. to write this post, i had to do research. an ton of research (translated to mean: a pure football fan grumbled in my ear). ok, so i'm blogging about it but i'm actually blogging about the 'neffbeffs' rather than fifa. two months ago, i don't sit in front of the tv to catch 22 men running back and forth 105 metres of grass. today, i don't either. hey, i've got principles. :-p

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

a sigh for a sigh

she gave the loudest sigh ever, reverberating the silence with her mournful sound.

granny has just took another fall. perhaps not as serious as the fall a couple years ago where she broke her leg and required surgery, this time she twisted her arm and has to be in a cast for several weeks. she sat there, ever so sad and forlorn. i am going to die, she sighed. ever the dramatic persona, she says that at least once or twice a week, especially when everybody is too caught up in their own lives. i don't see anything wrong with her playing up once in a while; everybody needs attention every so often. then again, i only listen to her dramatic predictions every once in a long while. there is only so much i can think of to talk to her. she has never been in my life much when i was growing up, being so far away in her own town and running her little shop. then again, my paternal grandma who had always been in the vicinity never appeared much in the reel of film that is my life either. come to think of it, big as our extended families are, with a total of 7 aunties and 6 uncles, none of them ever played any role in my life as i grew up. no uncle who bring us to the park, no aunty who bought us ice-cream, no granny who knitted sweaters. for that matter, no brother who stood up for me, who bought me little gifts, who helped me with my homework or looked after my welfare either. i'm digressing into this big major soppy feel-sorry-for-myself episode. bah humbug!

as i was saying, granny was feeling very sorry for herself. is your hand hurting, i asked. she shook her head and gave another loud sigh. i'm going to die. i told her that it wasn't so bad, she's able to sleep, she's able to eat, she's able to go out. we just had the most extravagant seafood dinner in celebration of father's day the night before. life wasn't so bad. it felt strange for someone much younger to remind her to count her blessings. true, life isn't just about the three things, but knowing how to be contented is the key to a happy life. still, granny sighed. when you return to your town, remember not to jump up and down anymore, ok. don't attempt any aerobics. my attempt at humour was met with a blank stare. i'm almost tempted to sigh too.

after our little chat, she never once told me again that she is going to die. she did however continue to sigh. a lot. sigh.

to love, to live, to be happy

the faces whirled round and round as the horses spinned, gyrating faster and faster as the merry-go-round picked up speed. faces of children and adults melted into a pool of blurry hazy silhouettes. have you ever been to a merry-go-round? have you noticed something peculiar? nobody ever laughs. nobody is smiling. perhaps it is only this one. nobody seems happy.

for the 2 days that i was trapped in a theme park, myriad noises filled my ears. the screeching of machines, the screams of terrified adolescents, the cries of babies and the whining of children. but no laughters. no twinkling melodious sound of laughters that brighten the sky. what is wrong with the picture? what is wrong with the world? in a place that is every child's dream, where imagination comes true, where every child's ultimate fantasy in fulfilled, no one is laughing.

in my travels, i see their faces. weathered, tired, senses dulled by the same spiritless routine. i hear voices, talking, chatting, greetings with pleasantries, civilities a thin tissue of superficiality. everyone is talking, is anyone listening? the only laughters that ring loud and filled the empty space are our own, four silly heads bent down with laughters over silly jokes.

i stopped to ask for direction. he wouldn't entertain me; he's attending to a couple. they wouldn't entertain me either, it's not my turn. their heads bent together once more in conspiracy over nothing more than pointless babble.

then, the immigration officer who only takes out his mint when we have placed our passports on his counter, takes his own sweet time to pop one into his mouth, and stop for a little chat with his colleague, procrastinating as much as he could before the inevitable task of attending to us. i couldn't help but imagine that his little stage show has more to do with the colour of our skin than his undeniable craving for mints at that particular moment. then again, i was on holiday, i'm in no hurry and the train doesn't leave for another 20 minutes. how long can you drag your little one-man-show? i'm amused that i'm treated to a personal entertainment, lame as it was, at the immigration counter. i much prefer the silver mime statue at covent garden.

nobody bothers, nobody is willing to give you the time of day eventhough they have nothing to rush off to. kindness and graciousness buried in a dark bottomless pit. yet i take it all in stride. all the frustrations, all the injustice fizzle into a whirl of dissipating tiny bubbles. i shake my head. not to censure their tactlessness but to commiserate the sadness that is in their lives.

to love, to live, to be happy, you have to open up your hearts. i am reminded to laugh and to cherish the life that is mine.

Monday, June 21, 2010

conspiracy theory

how is it that my body knows something that my mind doesn't? it will appear that my stomach is in cohorts with the rest of my body and is not letting my brain in on the act. a pandemic conspiracy. collusion at the highest level.

i was debriefed that the mind is the controlling tower for the entire operation. however, apparently, the other body parts have seized control, are now working independently from the brain and will not accept any instruction. it's 3am in the morning, my eyes glaring at the ticking clock tells me. my brain acknowledges it and sends signals from the top of my head to the tip of my toe. hey guys, it's time to shut down for the night and recharge those batteries. no way, it's just 8pm in the evening. time to parrrty on. 8pm my foot. when has 8pm been so dead quiet that even the faint creaking of the overhead fan rumbles in the ear?

at 2pm, you told me that it was way past your bedtime, that wild horses couldn't keep you awake. hallo, it's 2pm in the afternoon. ask the time announcement phone service, ask the prime minister, heck, ask the king for all i care. it's 2pm malaysian time. even in london, it's.........normally i can answer that in the blink of an eye, but my sleep deprived brain can only provide an answer with the help of a calculator at this juncture..... 8pm in the evening. past what bedtime? which country did you just visit? timbuktu? normally i'll google the answer to that but my brain is too fuzzy to move my fingers. it's on auto-drive at the moment. my systems are all mixed up. at lunch, my stomach informs me that i'm not hungry. i ignore it and i eat, and i'm hungry again 2 hours later.

i feel a sense of detachment, floating over physical reality, as if a veil envelops the whole being and dulls the senses. jet lag gets more difficult as you get older. the brain adapts but apparently, the body doesn't. i used to think that if i stay awake as long as daylight beams and get my 8 hour rest when it's dark, i will have the jet lag thing beat. brain over body. right now, ms. body is screaming rebellion and refuses to entertain my theory. i've been craving for my bed since 8am this morning. i don't think i can make it. i'm halfway crawling to my bed as i speak.

in the name of friendship

i have met up with her probably 2 to 3 times in the last 35 years. she wants to borrow money, this almost stranger. i obliged, in the name o...