on a saturday afternoon

what did you do on last saturday afternoon? strolled down air-conditioned hallways of shopping malls? sipped on a fine cup of tea, with a rich chocolate cake by the side? or slept late until your grumbling stomach woke you up?

well, i spent mine tumbling down the stairs of istana budaya. like jill, but there was no jack at the bottom of the hill to break my fall. not a hobby of mine, this tumbling down stairs business though i don't think anybody asked me beforehand if i liked it before buttery feet caused my downfall, literally.

people usually has frame by frame memory of incidents like these where they can tell you exactly what went wrong one frame at a time. me, my mind was a blur - as usual. i can't remember how i fell and why i fell. all i know is i fell, like a huge sack of potato, right where a huge group was gathered, waiting for intermission time to be over. embarrasment maximus. didn't help that my dress was short. nothing was exposed though. at least, i think nothing was.

a young man who was walking past with his girlfriend stopped and enquired if i was alright. a most unexpected display of gentlemanly act. in a whole room of apparently sophisticated, well dressed people, at the very least one person in the crowd had a heart. the rare breed of a gentleman, even if he did nothing more than just enquire.

fret is what it is all about

at 11, when there's no one infatuated with her, you fret. hey! my daughter's the nicest, prettiest, most kindest girl i know of that age, even if i do say so myself. what's wrong with the guys of her peers?! then, when there are people infatuated with her, you fret also. the definition of motherhood, the job scope of mothers, apparently, is to fret. fret when they do, fret when they don't. fret when they are not pretty enough, fret when they are too pretty. how maniac when compared to fathers' bah humbug attitudes. men have it good. i'll like to see their faces when their daughters finally bring boys home to meet their good ole' dads.

que sera sera

today, i learnt the lesson of letting things be. que sera sera.

when you want something so badly, when you feel that only that will do and nothing else, life can be quite intense, disappointing even. it is almost like you can feel the taste of it on the tip of your tongue. your thoughts are geared up towards that one possibility and you want your hands on it. it almost always will never be fulfilled.

i learnt to let go. the world is so big, the permutations endless. what you want now looks to be the best, but who is to know what is in the future. the moment i realise that, the moment i left it to fate, life got a little easier.

late one night

we were doing our best imitation of couch potatoes that night, laid out infront of the television, absorbed in the scene unfolding before our eyes, like we do every night. the kidnapper in the plot sat down in a chair opposite the victim, and handed over a can of coffee, something so random that even the victim looked surprised.

little princess asked, 'why did he feed him?'

little batman, without skipping a beat, quipped, 'to fatten him up. so that he can eat him'.

a little too much fairy tale i think, not that he reads them anymore. that is my son, and one of the many reasons i love him so. his sense of humour is delightful, and so random.

one hot summer night

i sit. i ponder, and i wonder at the me that is still very much a little girl at heart, despite getting very much on with age. little things very easily pleases me and many things bring a frown to my face, so transparent, so simple.

one hot summer night i received a text message, asking if i would give some recommendations of good eateries to a close friend's niece who was visiting the country, a young lady whom i have never met. someone whose name i didn't know, someone whose face i have never met. someone whose childhood photo has been lying in my album for the last 2 decades. call it fate. call it destiny.

we caught up the next day for dinner. she was a very agreeable person, easy to get along with, pleasant on the eyes, with a familiarity i cannot identify. perhaps this is what is known as fate. we swept the streets of ss2's hawker stalls, covering most, if not all, of the local cuisines. we met again a few days later, for a japanese lunch and a last minute bout of souvenier shoppings, followed by korean dinner before she is zoomed off to the airport. what was suppose to be just another customary list of good places to eat turned out to be lots of laughters and relaxing conversations . the dozen of years between us melted away like the ice that was broken on first sight. i took a photo of us, to record down what my memory sometimes fail to. 19 years ago when i first heard of her, she was 8. she didn't knew i existed. 19 years later, she's 28 and we meet for the first time, my son is 9. nineteen years later, she will be me, and my son will be her. it will be interesting to meet once more. we part ways with a hug, no promise of ever meeting again. there was no need to. we all live in the present, why taint it with false promises of the future.

the next day, i searched for her name on the facebook. i found her. my finger hovered over the mouse, but after a moment of hesitation, i closed the page. i didn't add her to my friend list. why?, the little ones asked. how do i explain? one thing that i have learnt during my long trek of life's path, people may not always mirror your feelings. she had never for one single moment asked the names of my children. should i not have taken offence at this simple, yet eloquent gesture? actually, i did not. one of my greatest fault perhaps, besides a million others, have always been more trusting and passionate than i should have. it is one thing to spend a few days laughing, eating and chatting but it is another to label that as friendship. i do, but does she? she never once asked about what i do for work, nor any other details about my family, my past, my present, nor my future whilst i plied questions by the truckful. i could be just another good summer vacation; fun whilst it lasted but lost in a sea of other memories. i used to think that sincerity breeds warmth and genuineness but i've had so many doors slammed in my faces over the years, i don't know what is correct anymore. i am contented to be just another good memory.

several days later, i received an invitation to befriend her in facebook. that brought a smile to my face. it has not been for nothing. sometimes, when life disillusions you as it often does, it's gratifying to have affirmation that there is some sincerity left in the world. when you open up and give, it is received. and that was how we became friends. a 39-year-old and a 27-year-old.