all that is out there

pray tell, what is this world turning into?

i received a phone call early this morning from a lady, who purportedly represents a bank. told me i have won their grand prize. for a contest i did not enter. people close to me will know that this is not the first time i have received such a call; the first was met with much cynicism and wariness but turned out to be the real mccoy after all. this second, or actually fifth such call, was also met with a certain degree of cynicism, albeit much less. yes, i do seem to have a knack for winning lucky draws, and most usually without any conscious effort on my part to enter into such contest. have i grown to be too trusting for my own good, the thought did cross my mind. she sounded as genuine as the previous callers. she didn't prompt me for any information, nor ask for payment of any handling charges. i was almost tempted to believe her. then she informed me of the venue for the prize giving ceremony.

it was in a fast-food chain in the busiest part of the city, very complicated district, abundant with the darker side of society. to go or not to go. the reward? few hundred dollars. will i be walking straight into a scam. is the money, or rather the greed of the money, worth it? there have been just too many such scams going around.

i called someone i knew at the bank. even she was wary. banks don't hold prize giving ceremony at fast-food chains. no, they don't. she promised me she will check., my man told me not to go. the money is not worth the risk. but i still believe that it is the real deal. admitedly they are shaking my stand a little.

i was suppose to reply to the lady by the same day on whether i will attend the ceremony. she called me close to the end of the day. i looked at the caller id. impulsively i answered the phone. halfway through introducing herself, i chickened out and hung up on her. she called back. i ignored it. she called again. and again. her persistence is frightening me. i called my banker friend. she was indisposed. how?

the lady called again. mustering my courage, i answered the phone. she repeated what she has told me this morning. will i be attending? i asked if i can send a representative to pick up the prize. she said oh no, of course not. my heart was crestfallen. this is indeed a con-job. she continued by telling me that she will send the prize to my nearest branch, where i can pick it up from the officers there. huh? it's a genuine case then? i can't decide whether i was relieved or sad. relieved that i was not a targeted victim of a scam. sad because i am becoming too cynical, and so is the people around me. winning unexpected gains from heaven up above should be a happy thing, not something that is met with wariness, cynicism, worriness, doubt and deliberation. at which point do i shout 'whopee' and go delirious with joy?

gullible

i am reminded over and over again how gullible i am. how trusting and how stupid. in a world of evil, it's a dangerous trait. in a world of betrayal, dishonesty and ulterior motives, it spells pain and sadness.

i believe when i shouldn't. i am sincere when i have no idea whether others are. i hold out my hand when i don't know if it's a friend or an enemy.

time and time again i see so many faces of evil. yet.....i choose to take my first step in trust rather than suspicion. for there can be no friendship based on wariness. i rather believe and remove that privilege when doubts to the contrary arise. we all need to believe.....in the goodness of people, in the sincerity of others.

brain-washing

When People Walk Away From You, Let Them Go

Your Destiny Is Never Tied To Anyone Who Leaves You

It Doesn't Mean They Are Bad People

It Just Means That Their Part In Your Story Is Over!

someone sent me some thought provoking sayings, the most glaring of which is the above. it's a lesson that i have not been able to practice, much as i try to convince myself that it is so. being cast aside still hurts, no matter how much i cover up the wound. being forsaken feels so personal, like it must be a very serious flaw within me. but as i read the words, if it's also true to others so that they came up with the words of wisdom, then it can't be just me. it can't be my fault. i wonder how many times i have to re-read this so that my brain will accept it.

pre-election

when did i grow so old? was it yesterday? was it last year? was it five years ago? when did i stop thinking like the crowd and saw things differently from others? when people saw the scum on the surface, i saw deeper. further. insight clearer than my elderly? how is that possible?

we are at the cross point of our country's journey. 48 hours later the deed will be done. to jump from the frying pan into the hot fire, what will the consequences be indeed? for once i am glad that the defending party will be taking unscrupulous moves to defend their position. how many of us can bear the consequences of 5 years of chaos or even standstill. to not progress will be inevitably to move backwards. look at apple and you will understand.

i am no way advocating for the defending party. who will stand behind the devil and call himself virtuous? there is no such thing as a good politician. but perhaps the lesser of two evils. we know the one who calls himself lucifer, we are familiar with his ways and what he is capable of. with that we know who we should be and how we should move. with that we can plan and anticipate. but the other, who is every bit as much the devil as the other. the one who everyone is running to in the name of change. we know nothing but lies. every single word spewed has been a lie. and yet to him everyone is running towards for comfort. what lies in the empty cavern between their ears i will never begin to understand. the desperation that lies in their eyes so great that it drives them beyond logical reasoning, i shudder at the thought. the mania in the congregation, irrational in their calls for all except the solidarity bleating for change. change. change. that is all they want. for better or for worse, i don't think anyone really cares at this point in time. isn't that scary? when rational thinking ceases, emotions run high and actions are governed by nothing more than a need for something different. 

everyone is displeased. no one is happy with either. why has no one stood up to start a new generation, a new alternative, a new avenue for us all. a party irrespective of race, age and classification of any kind. isn't that what we are all hungry for? all talk and no walk, that is the mantra of our age. that is our vulnerability.

title of the book

used to be part of life was tracking the progress and updates about people you know; like mrs so-and-so has just given birth to her 4th child, else, elysse, ellen and ethan, mr so-and-so has migrated with his wife to australia, miss so-and-so has just been headhunted by competitor company. so that there is safe topic that we can talk about and elaborate on when we meet up. and knowing which sensitive areas to avoid; like not mentioning the name of his 12th girlfriend infront of his 13th, or asking after her boyfriend when they have just split up last month. common interpersonal courtesies, i believe. however, something that i suck terribly at. blame it on the lack of hard drive space in my brain.

nowadays, it has evolved to include remembering that certain person's title. waitaminit! in a panic, and just split seconds before that person ends up right in my face, i will have to remember is he a tan sri, a datuk, or a mister. people do get offended when you don't address them with their official title. after all, they've paid so much to be where they are now. ahem, i shall say no more. that person ceases his existence as a person, as your relative, as your friend, as your family member even, once he receives that title. suddenly michael, or kevin, is no longer good enough. it's now datuk for you. of course there are those that will say, 'no, call me by my name". yes, they pay so much to have status quo. gasp! was there a hint of cynicism there? unless of course, we are talking about honorary ones, where they are conferred for , do i dare to use the adjective "genuine" (as opposed to.... ) merits to society as a whole, instead of the usual merits that are hard to quantify and even harder to name.

so, what do these great people of our nation get in return for their investment? as far as i've seen, a guaranteed table when making a reservation. datuks will earn them a table, tan sris a room, that's the way it goes. and perhaps, when seated in airplane first class (and only first class, doesn't work if you are a datuk in economy class), your title will probably earn you an extra smile, a more dedicated service and maybe, just maybe, an extra piece of hors d'oeuvres. when you are overseas, it just confuses people even more; they must be wondering why so many malaysians have the same christian names infront of their last names, a little like their bob and peter perhaps?

sometimes it is trying

is this how it is suppose to be? after 17 years you listen but you don't hear anymore. you see but deep down, you frankly don't care anymore. the responses are there, automated from years of conditioning and you go through the motions but you stop trying to understand. you stop trying to know. you know where the potholes and the land mines are and you tiptoe lightly around it, avoiding the explosives but not caring enough to dismantle it altogether. you think you are correct, and she thinks she is correct and both stop trying to understand the other's viewpoint. you interact, you dance the tango of life, one foot back, one foot forward and yes, you love but you stopped to bother. i don't remember. maybe it has always been like that. maybe this is how life has always been. maybe this is how it lasts.

you can do anything but you can't touch a frozen heart.

listen...and you will hear

the daughter needs some space to spread her wings and taste her new-found freedom, to live and laugh in the moment, to love and to be herself. some days she will need her mother, others she will try to take a step out by herself. the woman stands in the shadow, waiting with open arms to catch her in case she falls.

the son needs a little guidance coupled with a lot of love, pranking, learning, laughing as every other carefree boy. the woman listens, laughs and teaches, whilst trying to maintain a stable balance between a firm and a hard hand. she wants him to grow up to be a good person.

the husband needs space to be himself, to be the nonchalant and carefree person that he was. the woman learns when to leave him with the peace that he so craves, and to handle everything else so that he gets that peace. he closes his eyes, his ears, his world.

the grandmother sits all day, waiting for someone to talk to, someone to listen to her. she cooks and cooks, and when she isn't, she's thinking of what to cook, to give her close ones a mouthful of love. the woman sits with her, when time allows, and cooks with her, being with her even if nothing much is said.

the grandfather works all day, indulging in what he knows best. the only thing that the woman can do is listen when he talks, and share a glass or two when he drinks so that he will not have to drink alone.

the nieces and nephews sometimes need someone to talk to, someone to oooh and ahhhhh over the things that they did during the day. someone to tell them that they are special and wonderful. the woman opens her door to those special moments.

the little dog saunters in and lay on the floor, wanting to be scratched on the tummy and waiting. the woman picks his up and strokes him whilst he lie contented, closing his eyes, on her lap.

the people in the office wants this done. the people on the other end of the phone wants that done. the text messages in the handphone wants her attention. the voices that float up claims her name. everybody wants something. what about what the woman wants?

she wants someone to really listen, to care about what happens in her day, to wonder about how she feels, to take notice of her as a person. she's not looking for relationship. she just wants friendship. a girl, a boy. an extra terrestial being, what does it really matter.

she wants to matter. but she learns long ago that it only happens in fairy tales and movies.

separation

i separated it into mine and his. into the way that it has always been in his heart. he doesn't get it. he never will. i don't see the reason to explain anymore. you can say it a thousand times, a million times but he doesn't hear what you are trying to say anymore. he remains fixated on his own perspective. people don't change, they just adapt and move on with their lives.

he opened the door and looked at it with such amusement and curiousity. i opened the door and it broke my heart. i saw it as making a distinction and separation from we to i. mine and his. i have almost next to none because each time he bought, i've always thought that it was enough, that it was ours, that it was mine as well. maybe i am the one that had never understood.

i'll be looking out for when i don't get any tea to drink. i'll be holding on tightly to my bottle of nescafe blend 37, just in case.

complication

when we were young, we craved for the simplest of taste. for the softness of white bread, for the sweetness of a lollipop or a bottle of carbonated drink, for the crunchiness of fried chicken. our taste buds demanded for the purest, the most basic of flavour; sour, sweet, salty but of course, never bitter.

with age, subtle changes come into play, hand in hand with the more obvious ones. the food that beckons me now hold layers of complicated interplay of textures and taste. the softness of a piece of white bread seems to pale in comparison with the bite, the chewiness, the flavour of mixed grain bread. pumpernickel, focaccia, fougasse, walnut and so many more that i haven't tried. just like life, our taste buds are becoming more complicated.

such is a mother's life

motherhood is a lifetime of adapting and adjusting. when the little stork brought her, she was a small one, especially needy and clingy. i couldn't leave her for one minute to go to the bathroom. i had to hold her to sleep, or give up any notion of it myself. she has never been away from me for even one night, except for that 3 occasions where we didn't have any other choice. each time, we had to bear with the heartbreak of hearing her cry inconsolably throughout the night. i had to abandon my life, my identity, my lifestyle to be there for her.

as she grew, so did her sense of independence. i have no choice but to loosen the strings and let her spread her wings. that little thing that couldn't bear to be separated even for one nano second now wants to spend nights away, be her own person and keep secrets from me. i can only take it all in stride, knowing very well that this is life, that it is what every parent goes through and that letting her be her own person is the best thing that i can do for her. but that little thing, who looked at me with such wonderment in her eyes, who thought that i was the center of her world (and vice versa), now doesn't even want me as her valentine when she has no other.  that not-so-little thing is impatient to experience love and has no space in her heart for me.

while one part of you knows that it is alright, that this is how life is supposed to be, the other part of you find adapting to something that is constantly evolving so tiring. i am sure i was once like that too.
when she came, i was me, taking someone who needed me very much warmly into my arms. when she is older, i am still me, letting someone who needed to go leave. i didn't change, but she has. this is life.

whirlpool

what exactly is wrong with me? i think it will take a whole team of scientists and people in white lab coats to dissect and analyse me in order to answer that question. why do i always go back to the place that hurts me the most? why do i bring on things that wipe out the smile on my face and bring the black thunderous clouds in my days? even when the day is sunny and bright and i do not have a care in the world. especially then. the answer i think is that i cannot be left alone. i'm only self-destructive when i'm alone.

a few days back i ran across an obituary of a handsome young man, taken away in his prime three years ago. there was a link to his mother's blog, sharing with readers the sad journey that was his life that he and his family had to endure. his mother is such a wonderful writer that one felt there with them, walking their every heavy step, breathing their every heart-wrenching moments. sigh. if i continue to detail it, i'm only sucking myself into that black vacuum of self-despair. i read his mother's blog from top to bottom and even went on to her next one showing their monthly visits to his 'garden'. and if that was not enough, i kept going back every few days to see if there was any update. it pulls me into this swirling whirlpool of depression and gloom, yet i can't stop myself as if there was an invisible strength beckoning me. why do i insist on torturing myself so? i empathise with them and i feel their sadness and despair, i wish so hard that i can turn back the clock and somehow save this young boy. as if i have such powers! what can i do? i can't help. i should just stay away and close that page. but i can't. it lingers in my brain. especially when i'm alone. sigh. perhaps by leaving this here, i can move on.

sunset

a sunset in a small town like batu pahat is as beautiful as that in a big city like kl. if not even more so. where there are no tall buildings to block the horizon, no loud honking of the traffic, no smelly exhaust fumes.