old bean

the old bean came back late one evening, way past his usual boss-can-come-late-and-leave-early time, tired and totally drained. he's 68, much too old to be still working so hard, harder than any of us actually. but then, he's a workaholic, and i'm allergic to work. there's a difference.

anyway, the old bean came home after all of us have had our tummy stuffed and bloated, the bags under his eyes more pronounced than ever. we were waiting with baited breath for him to spill his latest adventure in the corporate world. with his throat so dried, and stomach so hungry, he told us the story of his day. it was tough, trying to chew, swallow and satisfy our curiousity at the same time. at some point, he looked like he could barely wait to finish chewing the food and swallowed it whole in his eagerness to share with us the details of battle that he had just fought. so cruel of us, the thought flitted past my mind. but i don't know who is more excited; us hearing or him telling. if he was to come home to an empty living hall, with nobody for him to share his excitement, i think he would have been a very disatisfied boy. it's in his blood, it's what he lives for. i've never seen another man who looks as depressed on holiday as he does. the light in his eyes is snuffed without the excitement that his work brings him.

so, this old bean, who lives for his work, came back with a blood pressure reading which shot to the sky that night. it's not usual, and it's most worrisome. on weekends, his pressure returns to normal, but you see him wandering aimlessly like a zombie, floating without soul, waiting for monday to hurry back again, just as we wait for the weekends to return. so, to work or to be healthy? what are you willing to give up for your passion? is life worth living when it's not worth living anymore?

my old bean. we tell him to see a doctor, he says later. we tell him to go for some tests, he says next week. we remind him it's already next week, he says he's busy. do i drag him there physically? do i nag him incessantly, which i already do? what can the little bean do? when your parents grow older, you become the parent, and they the children.

other people's business

indulged in seafood dinner with the family during the weekend in celebration of father's day. it was pretty pricey, what with all those exotic seafood that we were downing, but what the heck, it only comes around once a year. what is the point of earning money if not to spend it on a fulfilling, delicious, warm meal with your family. besides, i don't have any other material longings that i am aiming for.

there were lots of leftover geoduck. all of us have eaten as much as we could, or perhaps it was more of a leaving-some-for-others false civility type of thing. everybody has placed their chopsticks down, everyone shaking their heads and feigning that they have had enough. lady k, who with her daughter has travelled far and joined us for this celebration, asked her daughter to take a little more, upon our insistence that our guests have the last bit. "eat ah, if not you will not have a chance to eat this again for the rest of your life. it's very expensive."

that smarts. i don't know whether it's the you-guys-can-have-this-anytime-you-want-but-we-can't attitude in your face, or the they-are-so-poor-while-we-are-overindulging somalia type of scenario. but she means no harm, the mother. she is not spiteful or mean. she speaks so straightforward from her mind that you can hardly take offence. i think what smarts was the putting down of your own daughter, knowing with such certainty that she will never make it in life. almost like telling her the future is dark and doomed and what you can be at best is mediocre. a simple meal, a simple sentence. maybe only over-active brain like mine reads too much into things, like it frequently does. that's why i propose lobotomy when the imagination gets too rich. but still....never again to eat that for the rest of your life? we are talking about geoduck here, not roomful of platinum or paris hilton type of legacy. for all i know, this young one will grow up with a chain of petrol stations to her name. i almost wish, for her sake, that she breaks out of the mould. anything is possible if you want it bad enough, no?

i hear someone once say that to create successful employees, feed them the best of food, introduce them to brand names and good stuffs, and they will work their bums off trying to reach there because they are used to the good life. so, little one, have another piece of geoduck, won't you?

you call that rain?

it's almost pathetic what passes off as rain nowadays. it's like a flock of birds flying past and all relieving themselves at the same time. blink and you'll miss it. sheesh.

parenting 101

you will think, that after 38 years of life on this planet, that i know at least a little something about human relations and all its complexities.

little batman came back from school, all grimy and darker than his usual milk coffee-colour appearance, as normal. after taking his lunch, and a little tv of course, i sent him off to have his shower. he resisted. i appealed, he rejected. i cajoled, he ignored. daddy used his angry voice, he whined. but still he refused. i explained to him, what with all the present h1n1 going around, he'll be more susceptible, showed him where his hands are simply filthy. he stood his ground.

sigh.

tried sweet, tried bitter, tried reasoning. nothing worked.

so, i left him to be. what else can i do? what's the worst that can happen, right? some diarrhoea, catching some virus (if there was, he would have caught it long before anyway). so, what the heck. not worth me getting all sussed up.

back infront of his tv he went, his favourite place in the whole house. i went back to my work. after a few minutes, the tv went dead. the house was quiet. if you have a little one in your house, you know that's when you are suppose to get worried. but i know, even before i stuck my head into the room, that he has gone for a shower. suddenly. out of the blue. don't know what was going through his mind then.

boys. how do you figure them out? i thought it was the girls that are temperamental. would seem that even little boy has a little attitude, a little hard at figuring out. parenting. the hardest job in the world. hardest at knowing when to hold on tight, when to let go, when to insist, when to resist, when to let them be, when to enforce. but we learn as we go along.

sweetness is out

been brought up to respect the elderly, the older generation. so much so that when i was a wee one, an english gentleman kissed my hand in greeting and all i could fumble out by way of reply was a lame 'thank you'. thank you for kissing my hand? pathetic i know, but i didn't know the social do's and don't back then. actually, can't say i do now either, because who gets greeted in this manner nowadays anyway.

so, manners was something that have been instilled in me. if you can hear me when i make a phonecall, you'll understand why, with the sacharrin sweetest voice dripping with syrup, enough to send a diabetic into an insulin induced coma. lately i've come to realise that it's not quite working its desired effect into gearing the other party to swift efficient action. perhaps it's old age turning my once honey sweetness voice into grudge hoarse grunts. i've since realised that a i'm-so-bored-cos-i'm-so-important-and-can't-wait-around-for-you voice works a million times better than any please and thank you. the logic is if you sound all sweetness, the person at the other end of the line will figure you for a teenager and won't be in such a hurry to please you and lick your feet. however, if you fake an all important datin voice, with the requisite accent and imaginative grandeur, you'll have people falling at your feet to get things done just incase they are vexing a potential vip.

life's pretty topsy turvy when it comes to such logic. how do you teach your kids to behave and show good manners when the exact opposite get things done? life is such a hypocrite. meanwhile, i'll have to work on my hoarse brush-off tone.

kiddies in tow

was the chaperone of 5 kids roaming wild in the shopping centre last friday. 5 eternally hungry kids. never realised that kids are such black bottomless pit of hunger. all i did for the whole day was feed them, feed them, feed them, and guess what......feed them.

given a choice between adults and kids, i always pick hanging out with kids. their innocence, their sincerity, their trueness, it's simply rejuvenating. there we were, 5 little kids and one big one, hanging out for what is the first time, and could be the last time. a little melancholy, a little sad but still, fun.

the funny thing when you are with a bunch of goons, is that other goon-wannabes reach out beyond their normal force-shield to try to touch that magic, that innocence, that looney-ness that we all need a little of in our lives.

whilst waiting in line for sushi zanmai (i don't know why there's always a queue there cos the food sucks), the boys decided to hum to the tune of wong fei hoong, at the top of their lungs none the less. it was embarassing, no doubt, but perhaps not as embarrasing as when they interspaced that with calling each other pondan. also not the place to be explaining to one of the young ones what that word mean exactly, infront of many eyes staring and even more ears perking up i'm sure. but my skills in thickening my skin by several centimetres within a very short time frame has been sharpened over all the time i've spent with these little mischievious elves. after a while, the lady next to us spoke up. i was braced for all kinds of weird remarks but all she asked was whether they have seen a wong fei hoong movie recently. i almost collapsed with relief at her seemingly innocent comment. i wouldn't know, i said. how does one get to see any wong fei hoong movies nowadays anyway? i thought it was almost extinct. ip man is not the same.

then when us goons walked the mall, hand in hand, horizontally blocking the paths for all other shoppers, a man walking quietly behind with his partner took one look at our little boy, who was wearing the famous liverpool jersey, and remarked, liverpool, no wonder they lost. i smirked in return, you must be a man u fan. honest to goodness, i'm neither a fan of one or the other of the coma-inducing sport. the left right left right action is more hypnotic than my sleep-deprived brain can bear but when you hear one jeer the other, you just can't help but get involve in the childish (i'm going to be trampled to death by millions of guys) spat.

another day i was holding a plastic box full of dwarf hamsters roaming the shopping mall, don't ask me why, pretty accessories i will say. for some reason, many eyes were staring. some so obvious that they were edging their friends in the ribs with a rather loud 'look!'. a man walked up with his son, asking me all sorts of questions related to the pets. he was at once almost afraid to ask but also curious. i nearly wanted to take his phone no. down just so that i can have another 'victim' to give my overpopulating baby hamsters to.

normally i wouldn't hear any peep, much less comments from any sane controlled adult, no matter how begging for remarks the situation may be. you can be running around in your undies but no one blinks an eye, but with kiddies in tow, it suddenly closes the distance for strangers. it makes it alright to reach out and talk to a stranger, to a person that you did not know exist a few minutes ago. kiddies seem to have that effect. of course, it helped that there was no adult in sight. me? i'm no adult.

a strange lesson in human relationship indeed.

hot day

the sun is shining down hard. the day is hot and oppressive, the haze blocking the beautiful sky. can't even see the light at the end of the tunnel, literally speaking. wary even to take a deep breath, much less go out there and fill my lungs with remnants of burning materials. fitting perhaps for how i was feeling. life is way too complicated. where did the innocence go? where is the sincerity, the genuineness, the love? when did we get to be this way? people always looking for ways to gain an upperhand, not by legal means, not by proper avenues, but by cheating, twarting, scheming. always having to be on guard, always wondering, always double-checking. it's very tiring. things very simple, things very direct, can be twisted, turned, changed. every word spoken bearing an ulterior motive.

where is my rainbow? where is the beauty in mankind? where is my inspiration?

question no. 13

the continuation of the last post, if you may.

someone asked, 'what did you do between 1st may and 31st may that you enjoy doing?'. that drew a blank. i did what i always do.. i think. like how friends will ask how have i been, and i'll always answer the same. things pretty much fall into routine, and one day is like the next. you don't think much about it, you just carry on living.

plunging into the question, i babbled the usual stuffs that i knew i would have been doing. playing with the kids, drawing, reading books, watching movies. very run-of-the-mill. wondering if there was more, i looked up the ever faithful calendar organiser on my handphone. then i remembered.

i went to singapore to watch cats, the musical. the music, the dance, the costumes, the very energy of the night made me feel alive, tingling with sensations, living, soaking it all up. i love musicals, i don't know why. the way everything is so beautifully choreographed, the attention to details, the beautiful harmony in the songs, it's a wonderful way to spend an evening.

i sat at the sidewalk in orchard road, watching people go by, a luxury that we do not seem to have time for in our day-to-day life. back home, we're always rushing somewhere, always something to do. sitting there, waiting for time to tick by, looking at the colourful kaleidoscope of people on their feet, with somewhere to go, something to do. sometimes we forget; that something so effortless, almost to the point of inactivity can bring such simple pleasure.

i had dinner with my cousin, had time for a little get-together; a little counselling; a little heart-to-heart. eventhough our schedules are no match for paris hilton's hectic socialising, sometimes we just get caught up with living our lifes and we have little time to say a little more, to care a little more. over the phone, over the causeway, it was cold, it was different. but there, then, i had a night, of letting her talk, and letting her pour out the heaviness in her heart. i can't do much for her, after all, it is her life and it is her road to walk, but i can listen. mr silly kept an eye on the kiddies so that i can do just that; listen. i am reminded why i married the man.

i cycled, along the beach, with the salty sea water in my face and the breeze carrying my hair in a little dance. it was a little stressful this time, with little batman learning how to cycle and kamikaze roller bladers, but it made me feel alive, blood pumping; seeing, smelling, hearing, tasting, feeling, doing all that life should be about.

i met up with an old old friend, a friend whose name was only alphabets to me for a very long time. we talked, we re-acquainted, we remembered. it was closing of a yearning that have been long sitting at the bottom of my heart.

i watched dr bunhead at klpac. my favourite show, my favourite place. watching his show for the very first time many years ago, it was very entertaining, and it introduced me into the world of theatres and live performances. watching him this time round, it was almost like getting re-acquainted with the roots of my fascination, where my interest with live performances was sparked and it all began.

i helped to wrap dumplings for the dumpling festival. creating something with your hands, something that feeds into the stomach of your family and their hearts, something that is so steeped with tradition can be immensely satisfying. one by one, we see the dumplings hanging there by the raffia string, perfectly triangular in shape. it comes only once a year, the closeness whilst we talk and work with our hands, the rich smell of the ingredients, the rough feel of the bamboo leaves, the satisfaction whilst we tie the dead knot on each dumpling. how many years do we have in our lives to re-live this tradition? after that one day, only a few hours, we have to wait another 365 days again.

i attended a red carpet function. on and off i get to attend some posh functions, but i don't think i've ever walked down that red carpet. well, once, if you count the time that i walked through the vip entrance for a concert, but then the fans waving and waiting by the side were convinced i'm an imposter so i was trying to slink past as unobtrusive as possible. would have stuck my head in the floor like an ostrich if i could but i can't do that and walk at the same time. actually, this time i didn't either, walk down the red carpet that is. instead i walked up, the reverse direction, which really tickled my innards. me, always doing things the opposite way. for a girl, dressing up is always fun. especially when i had good company, champagne and fine food. only thing i had to concentrate on for the whole night was not to fall flat on my face, teethering around on those heels. the biggest challenge for the whole night, however, was trying to decide whether to hold on to that glass of champagne during photo shoot or to give it up. *grins*

i didn't realise it, without looking at the calendar, that i have been having a lot of fun. sometimes life passes without us acknowledging it, and we do things we enjoy but we forget. funny how a simple question from someone can serve as that reminder, that life has been worth living, that i've had my moments of fun, that life is good.

question no. 12

sometimes i get the strangest questions.

most people ask have you eaten..... how was your weekend.... how was your day.... what's latest in your life? me, i'm fielding questions of an entire different ball game. what would you do with your life if you are not doing what you are doing now? which part of your life were you happiest? are you happy? what did you do between 1st may and 31st may that you enjoyed doing? either i know some really 'deep' people or i have friends who are just not interested in knowing what's rolling and digesting in my stomach at the moment. do i appear to be introspective by nature?

sometimes life works in wondrous ways. i go through life not thinking, not caring, living one day to the next and along come some with questions as weird as the people from whose mouths they were spewed. questions that make me ponder and in seeking its answer i come to understand, and appreciate.

am i happy? i used to think happiness was a feeling of exhilaration, an emotion of exuberance, that you'll be feeling giddy, ecstatic, laughing all the time. a little like the light-headedness after your third glass of wine. i thought, at most, i am what can only be called contented. there are many things in life that i can't control, that i can't change, that i will want differently but much more that i appreciate, that i am thankful for and that i have grown used to. as i grow older i understand that no one can maintain that type of emotional high and not be labelled a deranged lunatic and be locked up in an asylum. happiness is not in the short span of elation when we have 11As in the examination. happiness is not in closing that big business deal and pumping your partner's hand with pride. happiness is not in locking eyes with the boy across the room that you have fancied for a very long time. those feeling are so fleeting and far in between. people chasing after such definition of fleeting happiness is only seeking for a lifetime of disappointment and unhappiness. an emotional high, not so different from the ecstacy re-created in chemical combinations of drugs. it is an apex of emotion, the very climax of your feelings. but is it happiness?

happiness is knowing that your loved ones are safe and healthy. happiness is looking into the eyes of your children, even when they are up to their michiefs. happiness is coming home. happiness is when you put that food that you have been craving for the longest time in your mouth, and feel it melt between your tongue, the flavour, the taste, the very essence satisfying every inch of your being. happiness is in a glass of wine, sipped intermittently between conversation with friends, with some jazz in the background. happiness is sitting in coffee bean, with a good book and some good music, just after it has rained. happiness is in my everyday life. so, if anyone is asking, yes. i am happy.