Posted in Monchies, tagged Parenting on February 15, 2011| 2 Comments »
If she is just being emotional, calm her down. Enough of asking why she is being emotional. There are things you can reason. There are things you just let be. She is just missing her Daddy.
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When she can’t explain why she feels certain feelings because she is just a child, stop being a professional engineer. All she needs is just a dad to say, “It’s all right.” You’re not constructing world’s longest hanging bridge.
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Just like the two of us, she too, is Work In Progress.
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Posted in Monchies, tagged Parenting on February 14, 2011| 1 Comment »
Mommy: Okay Monch, no more Humpty Dumpty. Close your eyes.
Edrick: But I still want to read.
Mommy: You’re going to have a tough time getting up tomorrow morning.
Edrick: I promise there won’t be any hanky panky, Mom.
Mommy: Huh? Hanky panky? What do you mean hanky panky?
Edrick: I mean I won’t go hanky panky and panic when I get up for school, Mom. I promise!
Mommy: Hahahahahahaha! Okay, so hanky panky is like panicky you mean?
Edrick: Yes, Mom.
Mommy: Okay then. If you hanky panky tomorrow, I’ll panky spanky you. I promise.
Edrick: Good night sweet Mommy.
Mommy: Now don’t you do that hanky panky on me, young man.
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Posted in Abang, Humor on February 13, 2011| 4 Comments »
Ehhh sayaaaang! Sayang dah ada rambut putih lah!
Abang baru perasan?
Ha’ah baru perasan.
Tu lah, jarang-jarang lagi nak belai rambut Ida ni.
Ehhh banyak lah Da!
Memang pun. Tapi nasib baik putih kan bang?
Kenapa nasib baik pulak?
Ye lah. Kalau hijau ke, merah ke… nanti Abang confused pulak.
Confused?
Ye lah. Nanti Abang tak sure Abang tu belai rambut Ida ke rambutan.
Perli lah tu. Tarik rambut tu kang!
I love you too!
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Posted in Poetry on February 10, 2011| 4 Comments »
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Sonnet XVII
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
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I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
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I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way
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than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
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Posted in Mom on February 9, 2011| 4 Comments »
She was probably the only person in my life so far who called me Sayang and meant it. Everytime. Who sayang me everytime I called her on the phone and everytime I was too busy to do so.
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Who always looked happy to see me and who would be the last one standing waving goodbye when I left. Who would greet me with smiles even when the only thing I had on my face was tears.
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Who asked me to sing Sayang Disayang when all I felt like doing was to weep, knowing I wasn’t going to have enough of her love. She was my biggest fan who loved me more than I will ever love myself. She loved me with everything she had and she never took anything back.
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Anything.
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Not even the Sayang.
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Posted in Sense, Write On on February 9, 2011| 3 Comments »
Us, the Mesra bunch, were going through the possible menu for the school lunchbox at bedtime last night. Monchies refuse to have the rice lunch provided by the school these days. And I, almost apologetically, must admit that these rascals are not rice mice. Having rice everyday at mealtimes for Kitreena and Edrick is like us truly Asians having bread for breakfast, for lunch, for dinner and at snack time 5 days a week. Boleh?
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So I bet you could imagine how overly displeased I was when Bibik told me we were out of bread. At 8.15pm Tuesday night! But oh well, if we’re out, we’re out, ya know. How else can it be? Monchies went to bed and so did Bibik, at 8.30pm. But I, the Questa è Enida, had to make a run to Cold Storage Mont Kiara for some bread. And while I was at it, I actually got some bagels, sausages, cumin Gouda cheese and some Coons, some choy sum, kyuri, cherry tomatoes, snow peas, yogurt, Korean strawberries and bananas. And oh! Yeah I got bread too!
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A lot of things needed mending at home, and I thought while I was still at it, I might as well look for the replacement for these…
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It took me a while at the lightbulb section to find the right one as this was the light for the Electrolux kitchen hood. I wasn’t all that hopeful to see any at Cold Storage. But I looked anyway. And I caught myself staring at, and then staring through the lighbulb boxes for a few long minutes, thinking that it was never my ‘department’ to look at lightbulbs before. It used to be a man thing in my house. There used to be a man in my house too. 🙂
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The right lightbulb was not available. But the blinking thought I was having while looking, certainly switched a lightbulb on in my head. I actually had an ‘Oprah’s Aha! Moment’ there and then!
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I moved on to the battery section nevertheless, thinking that at some point in time, I must have been the brightest light in someone’s eyes. And at some point in time, I must have been that energetic pink bunny rabbit ready to toy around with any possibilities life had in store. But then, life happened. And just like a burned-out lightbulb and a drained-out battery, I have been replaced. Out of sight, out of mind.
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I drove home with neither a new lightbulb, nor a new battery. But I must have taken the longest route home. For it sure felt like I was driving 260km long thinking about finding a replacement. Maybe the next time around I should look for one that is bright enough to light up the whole kitchen – not just the stove, the one that has a lifetime warranty, and for a battery that is rechargeable for ever and ever. And ever after.
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Maybe I need a heart replacement. Banyak sangat roti and not enough nasi.
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Posted in Hurt, Inside Enida on February 7, 2011| 5 Comments »
When I write, I don’t usually think or write about my writing. More often than not, I would just tell you my side of stories. The way I see them, the way I feel them and the way I live them, being me. Being this Enida.
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And perhaps the last thing I would be thinking about when I write is… whether I am writing what I’m writing from the heart, or from the mind. I don’t really know where it comes from. It is challenging enough as it is, to write from my memory.
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So the other day when someone, I can’t even remember who it was now, said, “Enida I can feel that you write from the heart,” I didn’t know how to respond. For someone who kind of almost always has the last say, I didn’t. I didn’t know what to say.
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I came home here – to my writing – and started reading some of the ‘Hurt’ entries to see if I sounded like I was writing from my heart. To be honest with you, I couldn’t tell. I still can’t. But I do have a question for you.
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When you tell the truth, can you tell if it comes from the heart?
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For the longest time, I thought I had a broken heart. Too broken to write from.
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Posted in Persona on February 7, 2011| Leave a Comment »
Ja…
I have seen a bit of the world, enjoyed, suffered in and weathered around some foreign land and even the no-man’s land. But it was you who first gave me the pictures of the world to dream by.
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It was you who built the images of ‘Rumah Seronok’, helped me envision mystical meadows, singing ‘Oh What A Beautiful Morning, Oh What A Wonderful Day’ as a starter. An appetizer for me to go ahead and taste the world.
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You dreamed with me back then, and you picked up my shatered dreams when I was too broken to do it myself. It was, for all God’s intent and purpose of sending you to me, you. None others.
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So Ja, for all that you have been, all that you are, and all that you have become… Happy Birthday.
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You are loved. And very much so.
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Posted in Write On on February 7, 2011| Leave a Comment »
Buat pengunjung Questa è Enida yang berada di Jakarta Raya dan Bandung, juga yang bukan…
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Kalau sudah ditakdirkan bahwa hidupku ini kuserahkan buat membahagiakanmu, dan aku bahagia dengan penyerahan itu… simpanlah aku.
.Selamat menunggu mentari, langit biru, hari baru.
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Posted in Abang, Humor on February 6, 2011| 4 Comments »
Daaaa!
Ye maaakkk!
Sini kejaaappp! Tolong mak peygang langsir ni jappp!
Cominggg!
Aaiii, yang ngko terhenchot-henchot ni pasal?
Ntah la mak. Bangun pagi ni peha orang sengaaal nor.
Ko banyak sangat main tak.
Mana ada main apa-apa. Racket pun orang tak bawak balik lah mak.
Yang mak dengor bergurau terjerit ketawa malam tadi tu bukan main.
Itu Abang lah. Urutkan kaki orang. Kuat nor! Nambah sakit jer. Bila orang sakit dia geletek. Tension orang!
Ohhh. Mak ingat kan ngko main-main. Hehehehehe.
Mak niiiihhhhh! Mana adaaaa! Orang… mana ada bising-bising.
Padan ler lepas tu terus senyap je mak dengor.
Mak niiihhhh! Jangan aaaa. Malu orang! Hehehehe.
Alah, mak pun pernah muda lah Da. Hehehehe. Mak kan takde anak pompuan. Ngan saper lagi mak nak gurau-gurau hal belakang langsir.
Hehehehe. Best lah mak ni!
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Questa è Enida 