Pea-ee, puh…
An-a-tea, nut.
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Archive for January, 2012
Letih
Posted in Write On on January 30, 2012| Leave a Comment »
Babi Ini Dalam Sejarah
Posted in Culture, Sense on January 29, 2012| 2 Comments »
“Enida, kenapa you list down blog yang ada babi and non-halal food dalam blogroll you?”
“I tak kisah. Bukan I yang makan. Not all entries are about babi pun.”
“You tak geli ke?”
“You rasa kawan-kawan Hindu kita geli tak tengok beef rendang and daging lembu masak kicap kat blog you?”
“Tu lain.”
“Both pork and beef are meat. Dua-dua ada history why they’re forbidden. Apa yang lainnya?”
“Babi is haram for us.”
“Tengok aja pun haram?”
“Ahhh you ni! Ada je jawapnya. Entahkan you makan tak?”
“Excuse me! Syak wasangka you tu pun sama haram dengan hukum makan babi tau.”
“Oh sorry, sorry!”
“You should feel sorry for yourself. At least I tau macam mana rupa babi lepas dimasak. You?”
“Yeah, you got a point there, Enida.”
“You are not what you eat, you know that?”
“Then?”
“You are what you think you eat.”
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Biru-Biru
Posted in Poetry on January 27, 2012| Leave a Comment »
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Biru dekat sini,
biru dekat sana;
Biru dalam hati,
rindu orang mana?
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*Enida
22 April 2011
Marina Island, Lumut
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Mesra Ayam
Posted in Humor, Language, Monchies, tagged Parenting on January 27, 2012| 6 Comments »
Ishhh! Angat ati sungguh kak hang ni petang tadi tak tau la nak habaq lagu mana. Kak ghiau-ghiau dok laghang depa bertaki beghebut TV, depa tak peduli. Bukan depa tak tau dah memang prinsip hidup mak depa ni, tak buleh lebih tiga kali warning. Asai lepaih amaran ketiga, soheh sogha mak depa ni tak dak perlahan daghipada guruh dah la.
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“Hangpa nak sangat dengaq sogha dainasurrr, mai sini! Jurasik tak jurasik. Sekali mak hangpa tempikkk, satu Mesra Terrace hilang habih kemesraan, okay! Amboooiii dia!”
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Dua-dua anak kak sipi-sipi nak kena sekehhh dah petang tadi ni. Ilang tak tau mana pi dah sabaq mak depa ni. Kak ghampaih remote control Astro mestro depa, tekan punat TV bagi mati. Paihtu hambat dua-dua oghang keluaq pintu. Yang si Adik dah cemaih dah kot mak dia ni nak halau dia pi duduk kandang kambin. Yang si Kakak berlagak cool lah lagi.
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Kak biaq depa dok menempek dua beghadik kat pangkin luaq pintu depan tu baghang 20 menet. Sambil kak kat dapoq dengan Bibik sibuk panggang ayam. Buleh dengaq yang si Kakak menyalahkan si Adik, yang si Adik tak mau abih teghiak ayaq mata dainasurrr — sungguh la baby-baby lagi anak kak yang kecik ni. Ghimaihhh kak haihhh!
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Keghin saja tangan kak lepaih dok peghisi ayam, kak pi jenguk depa dua beghadik kat luaq pintu. Dua-dua kena grounded takdak sapa buleh tengok TV sampai ujung minggu ni. Haa toddia, nak sangat hangpa noh. Hambikkk! “Mami tak mau dengaq lagi dah sapa salah, sapa tak salah. Oghang cakap baik-baik sampai tiga kali, telinga hangpa boh kat lutut. Nasib baik tak kena pulaih.”
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Depa masuk-masuk ghumah, kak hambat naik sughuh pi mandi. Kita satni nak makan ayam, kak tak mau anak-anak bau reban ayam. Tapi budak-budak ni memang kelaku dia dah. Sementagha nak menyampai bilik ayaq tu sempat lagi bertaki, tu yang kak tak paham tu. Kena bagi warning hat lain pulak.
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“Hangpa hingaq laaaa… hingaaaqqq! Sogha sapa Mami dengaq sampai kat dapoq satniiii… Mami bagi dia tulang ayam saja! Try test tengokkk!”
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Dan-dan sunyi sepi ghumah Mesra kak.
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Baiklah…
Posted in Poetry on January 26, 2012| Leave a Comment »
Elok Sangat
Posted in Write On on January 25, 2012| Leave a Comment »
Yang jauh didekatkan. Yang dekat disatukan. Yang satu diduakan. Yang dua ditiga-empatkan. Yang tiga-empat diceraikan. Yang cerai dijauhkan. Yang jauh didekatkan dengan yang lain pulak. Hah, elok sangat lah tu. That’s why I don’t believe in multi-level marketing, or polygamy. Men should learn a thing or two about loyalty from penguins. Yeah, women too. Sekian.
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Hah? Tak lah! Tak marah langsung. To each his own. 😉
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Thy Will Be Done
Posted in Inside Enida, Monchies, Sense on January 25, 2012| 1 Comment »
It took me over a year to finally realize that I am now on my own. In this little wagon I am driving, there is only one driver seat. Gone are the days when I was just sitting in the passenger seat trying to make myself useful, pretending to know where to go and how to get there. Though I never held a map upside down, my journey came to a U-turn that turned out to be an I-turn when I, Enida the Questa è Enida, took a different path. My path. 😉
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Now, nevertheless, that I am behind the steering wheel on my own, I still don’t know where to go and how to get there. But I am doing it as I go along… with Monchies in the back seat. As long as we are on this journey together, I don’t really have to know where exactly we are going and how exactly to get there. We’re getting there, wherever there is. As a matter of fact, sometimes I don’t mind at all if we are not going anywhere. There is where we are. There is here. We’re together.
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But then, I know… I have to be prepared for my own inability to hold on to the steering wheel for ever. Anything can happen. Anytime. Just like what my insurance agent said (that got me to sign up with a plan), “Planning, if you asked me, should have been done yesterday. If anything happens today, your tomorrow is covered.” And so… I am writing my will and instructions. And in the process, I have been awakened by some gentle reminders that at some point of time I have to let go of everything.
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So when I saw my best friend recently, we had a good conversation to confirm what I would put in my will and instructions in the case of my absence — sudden or eventual. It was a sad but quick chat on where Monchies should go if anything happens to me. I fear not death, for I have embraced the reality that I am dying from the day I was born. I don’t mind death. (Hidup itu jodohnya mati, as I said to Cik Nan.) But I mind dying if I can’t live the remaining time to my full capacity.
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If I were given half a year, it is probably worth all the headaches of getting our Russian visas back so that I can be in the house where Monchies can have their Dad. I take no sympathy from him. No. But I know the kindest thing for me to do is to be kind to the kids, and kinder to their Dad. And I know that’s all that matters to Monchies anyway. If Daddy wouldn’t drop anything in this world for them, I would. At the end of the day, I could say I had dropped anything and everything for them. Drop dead! 🙂
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And six months would be enough for me to write a book on how happy Monchies would be and I know for sure they will miss me.
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I am not trying to be hopeless or morbid now. For heaven’s sake, I want to live as long as I can! I have so many I-told-you-so‘s to say to Kitreena and I have not rolled my eyes enough at Edrick’s jokes. We still have those trips to take: Kitreena wants me to take up snowboarding in the Swiss Alps with her, and Edrick is flying me to Rio, Rio, Rio! So help me God. If I can have 20 years, I will take 20 years. Or 30, max. But of course I can live without the headaches of getting our Russian visas back.
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On that thought, please pray for me… that my repeat blood test results would not number my days with the love of my life — the two good people I am raising in my Mesra house.
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So Long…
Posted in Inside Enida on January 24, 2012| 1 Comment »
Do you know the feeling of wanting for something to come so badly,
waiting for so long, that when it finally comes…
you feel like running away?
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In my case, it never came.
I am still here.
But I wait no more.
I am still here.
But I wait no more.
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Di Hujung Sana
Posted in Poetry on January 21, 2012| 1 Comment »
Enida berpantun di hujung halaman:
Tidak berpangkin lamanku ini,
buluh rimbun rotan berduri;
Tidak berpimpin tanganku ini,
jatuh bangun jalan sendiri.
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It’s All Write Now
Posted in Inside Enida, Write On on January 20, 2012| 1 Comment »
There are times when I feel like letting my guard down, sitting here pouring my heart out in as many words as I can write on this Questa è Enida blog, telling about everything that I have gone through, everything that has broken me to pieces, slices, chunks, granules and eventually to dust.
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But as I was finishing the previous sentence, I was struck hard by my own inability to answer my own question: Why? Words might not come easy, and juicy stories might sell. But mine are not cheap. I only have one life here.
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The wrongs…
Do I write about them or do I just right them?
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