my uncle has left. he wasn't someone that i was close to but his name, his face has appeared sporadically throughout my 40 years of life. i was one of the little flower girls during his wedding, not that i can recall it vividly but the photos in the albums show me glimpses of my past where my memory fails. he was not close, yet i can't help but tear when i think of his departure.

i don't recall having one direct conversation with him, aside from work-related matters on and off. i have written his name many times during the course of working for my dad, yet i have never had a personal conversation with him. how can that even be possible? someone so familiar, yet so alien? i never knew him, i never knew the story of his life, now i will never have a chance.

it had all been too sudden, for me anyway. one day, very much like any other, when i was out shopping for groceries in the supermarket, my handphone rang. are you free to talk? uncle so and so has passed away. my body started shivering. this isn't how bad news should be relayed, so casually, so by-the-way. he had left. he didn't say goodbye, he didn't give anyone a chance to say goodbye. then again, as someone who didn't have anything to say to him for the last 4 decades, what would i have said to him? yet i can't help feeling like i wasn't given the chance to say my final goodbye, to bid him farewell to his journey on earth which, eventhough we had not walked together, we had grazed and we had enough destiny for him to be my uncle.

time has passed so fast, i have been so busy, one day so much like another that i can't even remember the last time i saw him. perhaps one year ago, perhaps two years ago, but i can still recall his face, his mannerism so vividly. it was like he has been around all this time. his absence wasn't really glaring, which is perhaps why his departure was. i was not mentally prepared to say goodbye.

at his funeral a sense of calmness overcame me. here, now, i will say my goodbyes, eventhough i have nothing much more to say than that. one cannot come into this world, walked all those footsteps, touched all those people and leave, without telling everybody close at least, without bidding adieu and thanks for the journey together. i did not fall into the 'close' category, that is without a doubt, but i was still relative. in my mind, every opening should have a closing, every hello should have a goodbye. how else do we close the door and move on?

we walked behind the altar for a glimpse of the body, for a final look at my uncle, to see him in the face and say a silent goodbye. i was shaken. did they put the wrong person in there? there must be some unwritten code that one should not stare at a dead body but i was pretty sure that was not my uncle in there. there was no faint resemblance at all. he wasn't even of the same built for goodness sake. realisation struck me. my uncle has been sick for a very long time. he was thin beyond recognition. he was a far cry from that energetic, fit image i saw in my mind. my heart ached. he must have suffered so much. this was perhaps better for him. i finally understood why he didn't want to say goodbye to anyone. i would have wanted to remember my uncle as he was then, happy and healthy. instead, now, when i close my eyes, i will forever see the final image of him, a sad suffering sick man, thin to the bones. i bid my uncle a silent goodbye, hoping that he is happy and healthy once again wherever he is.

my heart goes out to the widow, my aunty but i see her surrounded by her children. all grown up, all independent, well-behaved and very capable. they have also been suffering all these time. hopefully now they can move on, eventhough their hearts will throb with pain for a very long time.

i'm sitting here cringing backwards into my seat, shutting my eyes and mentally preparing for the force that will throw me into the windshield and end my life, as cars zoom past me at 150kmh, or rather i zoom past them at 150kmh. i want to the driver next to me that i don't really mind arriving half an hour later, as long as i do arrive but i'm trying to refrain from making any sudden moves or sound that will bring the end closer faster. i keep telling myself that i have a long lifeline on the palm of my hand and that i'm going to live to a happy healthy 100.

he's texting and doing all kinds of things aside from driving and focussing on the road. his hands are not on the steering wheel! i want to reach out and grab the wheel but that may shock him into jerking the wheel to the right and the car straight into the divider. so here i sit, frozen in fear, having a little faith because we have made it thus far, but still frozen in fear.

did we just miss that car by a couple of inches?! close my eyes, quick!!

my cousin told me the story of my dad when he was younger. my heart ached for not knowing the him that was then, the him that was passionate, the him that was so alive. the him that was flexible, so mischievious and so young. the him whose world revolved around more than just his work.

perhaps it had also been the same then, perhaps it is just my imagination. he is so one-dimensional now. perhaps all successful man are. perhaps this is what they call focussed.

my alarm today morning is the sound of slippers slapping on the not so distant floor. someone is running a mini marathon in the living room. at 7am in the morning.

whilst the cat is away, the mouse is out to play. the mouse cooks and eats, cooks and eats and cooks and eats. the problem is that the mouse has grown too fat and can't get back in it's hole.

'tis a season to be jolly. and crazy. and knock your head continuously on the bedroom door. simply because no one works during the year end, and all phones are constantly busy, to the point that even the recorded machine operator voice sounds stressed and annoyed. it's no more 'our operators are presently busy, please hold on for assistance, your call is very valuable to us'. now they are saying 'our operators are VERY busy! please leave your name and number and we'll get back to you'. ya, right, i wasn't born yesterday, you know! they never ever call back. never.

everyone's trying to clear their remaining leave, so no one's behind any desk in any office. if, by a miracle, you actually find someone, her machine will not be working, because apparently machines need to clear their leave too. broadband, on the other hand, is slow as snail and all websites are jammed to the max because what are those people on leave doing? surfing the net! sheesh! that or sitting in their cars going round and round midvalley or one-u, looking for a carpark. apparently, they do this every single day too, judging by the traffic jam there everyday. this is causing me serious grief, santa.

the time before christmas should be quiet, and peaceful, and dreamy, with a warm drink on one hand and wood burning somewhere closeby, and i don't mean indonesia! christmas should be a time you reflect on what you have done for the year and what new resolutions you want to achieve for the new year. at this moment, i just want to scream my lungs out and use my forehead to make close contact with the door.

you dress to the nines. spent hours and hours trying to make yourself look beautiful. manicured nails, styled hair, flattering make-up, sexy dress, stiletto heels and a glittering pouch. not half bad. you stand there with the rest of the beautiful people in the room. smile, the cameraman says. thousand-watt smile, click. you are frozen in time with a beautiful photograph. at least you think it's beautiful, because you never ever get to see the photo!!

why is it that people always ask you to smile, to pose and to take photos but nobody ever sends you the copy of that photo? for all you know, you look wonderful and someone is doing something really weird or distatasteful to that photo of yours. or contrary, you smile and you have this huge spinach stuck to your teeth. you'll never ever know, will you, because nobody ever shows you the photo you took with that killer-watt smile of yours?

not the first time, probably will not be the last. it will join the other lost photos in the sea-of-dead-photos. not just weddings or formal events. gatherings, birthdays, parties, anywhere that the camera will travel. i have half a mind to stick my tongue out the next time someone ask me to smile. there, you can freeze me like that for all i care. i don't ever get to see it anyway.

are friendships suppose to be hard work? perhaps that is why i hang around families so much and i shy away from others. there must be other people out there who are not blood related that i can just shoot off my mouth without first weighing the consequences, deliberating the effects or trying so hard to sound witty and sweet, because the one thing i've found out about myself and that is i am not sweet. i am not the 'ohhhh, how are the families? we have missed you. you look gorgeous in that dress. where did you buy it? how is the little one?' type. i am also not the 'your little one looks so absolutely precious! so adorable' kind either, nor the 'how poor of you, you must be so sad. don't worry, you are a wonderful person, bla bla bla'. yawn.

any calls for cynic of the year and i will definitely be the first to line up, so you can bet i won't be saying sweet goo-gahs to your little kids and calling them little cuties of the year. i snarl, and i bite, but usually i can't, so i just keep quiet and paste a fake smile on. oh ok, so i do the occasional goo-gahs and 'you look wonderful in that', and it's always sincere, but my lack-of-practice 'sincere look' makes it seem otherwise. the snarl trying to escape from my repressed inner subconsciousness doesn't help either. if anything, i look unapproachable. i'll let you in on a secret, that is a survival technique.

we stood around after the first few minutes of greeting, hiding in some corner, carefully blended into the background. the initial euphoria of hello's, hi's and congratulation's have lapsed and we are waiting until we can hide our ackwardness behind the safety of a table. the socialites are working their way round the room, chatting with one group for half a minute then on to the next. tick tock tick tock, another 20 seconds to go, 10, 5.........*hits timer* tooooooot, sorry, i've got to move on to the next group of people. amusing to watch. we see many familiar faces but we keep our distance. whatever do you say after the first inspiration of witty conversation-starter? you stand around ackwardly looking at your feet, at the distant crowd, at the group of people beside you and you send out silent pleas of rescue with your doe eyes. i guess we are not 'people' people. especially not when i have an inch of make-up on, two caterpillar-related fake eyelashes ladden on my eyelids like a ton of dumb-bells and a kilogram of black pins stuck into my scalp like a voodoo doll. give me my shorts, my tee shirt and my loose swinging hair and perhaps i can act like a normal person once again. and perhaps i can actually smile sincerely too.

seriously. i think i am the only one in my entire organisation that needs to issue a memo to let the whole world know that i will be going on leave. even the big boss doesn't have to do that. *rolls eyes*

i am considering taking out a one day advert on the local dailies next time.