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Archive for the ‘Hurt’ Category

Some Times

When I heard the story about a tardy ruler from someone who had to wait for him, I was skeptical. But when thirty minutes dragged on to three hours, and the same tardiness seemed to be fashionable as it happened in three occasions within just two to three days… my heart bled blue. Oh how I wish the stories were not true.

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For days on end the stories disappointed me. Hearing more stories about the same ruler who is actually well known to have made people wait, somehow hurt the very core of my soul. I don’t understand why, and for some reason I was in denial. So much so that I went looking for the hukum of tardiness. Oh how I wish the rules were above the ruler.

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And then I remember Ustazah Khadijah who used to wait for my whole class to come back from the science lab to attend her Agama period at the end of the afternoon session. I, for one, used to drag my feet to her class until one gloomy late afternoon when she had enough of our tardiness and told us that God would be fair to those who make others wait.

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No matter how well we have served God and how kind we have been to people in this life, there is something about time that many will be denied heaven for, she reminded us. And that is if we are tardy. For punctuality is a promise. A trust. And one who breaks his or her promises of time purposely will be denied the best of the hereafter.

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“Tuhan dah janji dah. Tak tepati masa kat dunia ni, kat akhirat satni hangpa tunggu lah pulak sampai Dia redha kat hangpa baghu buleh masuk syurga. Tak keigha lah hang sapa kat dunia ni, hatta seorang raja.”

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Se-Mentara

Kalau nak sangat sedih,
biar sedih betul-betul.
Sedih habis-habis.
Sebab sedih itu,
dalam sakit dan perih-payahnya,
sementara.

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Kalau nak sangat menangis,
biar menangis betul-betul.
Menangis habis-habis.
Sebab menangis itu,
dalam pedih dan bengkak-bengkilnya,
membasuh jiwa.

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Sedih lah. Menangis lah.
Penat sedih, penat menangis nanti, kita berhenti.
Letih sedih, letih menangis nanti, kita berdiri.

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Tak mati.IMG_5194
Ada masa lagi.

 

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*Enida
Mesra Terrace
15 Disember 2015

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Keep Bleeding, Love

  

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Luka di jari nampak berdarah, luka di hati siapa yang tahu?

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[Luka di hati kadang-kadang sendiri pun tak tahu.]

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The Sungai Sedim Tree Top Walk is a much longer story. This one is short, so it gets told first.

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The thought that I had when I realized I was bleeding from the cut (it was just from opening a Red Bull can) was… sometimes it takes time to realize we are hurting. We don’t always feel it right away. And I can’t say I was in denial, for only when there was blood all over my steering wheel that I knew what I did actually cut me.

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There were bandaids in the car, but I didn’t really feel like putting one on. I just moved along and moved on.

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I drove southbound from Kulim through Selama and its scenic palm plantations, watching cattle and rainbows along the way and set my heart with the sun in Taiping that day.

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As soon as I got there, I felt all right. Taiping embraced my heart.

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Semuanya

Dulu saya simpan semuanya, tak nak lupa.
Sekarang saya buang semuanya, tak nak ingat.

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Kenangan.

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Didn’t I?

I did. . .

I purposely took some time away for myself and with myself to sit me down so I can write what I have been wanting to say. I really wanted to say how much I treasure this last year especially, for I have stood up for myself. For I have finally stopped letting me be a reserved player. Yes, I wanted to say it. Probably not that way, and not in those words exactly. But I wanted to say it.

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I did.

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I wanted to thank my husband (still is my husband although he has taken up another woman to sleep in our bed – his bed now, not our bed, because I left him – to clean his place top to bottom, to cook him breakfast, lunch and dinner, and to treat him right. Something he claims I never did. Or maybe something I never did right).

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I did.

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I really wanted to thank him profoundly. For all his love and appreciation. And perhaps for his speedy recovery from the pain I inflicted upon him by leaving Moscow. I wanted time and space.  Not a divorce. But since he thinks he doesn’t love me anymore and is not willing to let go of a woman who is standing by him right now – something he claimed I didn’t do – maybe I should agree that a divorce would be the best for both of us.

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I did.

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Written on: March 11th, 2011.

Published on: November 17th, 2014.

The reason for this entry not published on the date it was written:
I had to learn to let time tell the story. Words were inadequate.

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To Feel No More

What hurts the most...Enida:
Jatuh kat sekolah. But there are two stories that cut deeper than her wounds. One is about her class teacher that has been calling her names, like ‘Blur’. And the other is about Daddy who has just ‘disappeared’. Well, not just disappeared disappeared. She said Daddy is just gone now. And she doesn’t have that feeling of how a daughter would feel for her dad anymore. It’s gone, she said. She cried for many kilometers. But she’s okay.

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KaCher:
Oh dear. She will be okay.

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Enida:
Oh she will. Sedih sangat for her. It feels like losing our Mom all over again for me. But it makes me more determined.

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KaCher:
Those people who don’t add to our value in life don’t matter anyway. They just make it easier to choose just who we can’t live without, instead.

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Enida:
Sangat! And I think Kitreena is learning to let go. That’s what hurts the most. Letting go tu. I asked her specifically if she wants to spend some time with Daddy this summer. I can let her go and visit Daddy. But she said no. She just doesn’t want to see Daddy anymore. Sebab dia kata it was painful the last time he was here. She realized that she has grown and Daddy stays the same. And every time Daddy sent an email, everything was about him. He never asked how she was doing and what was going on in her life. And now Daddy doesn’t write or call anymore.

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At this point, saya yang nangis berkilometer-kilometer kadalla. That is so her Daddy. It is always about him.

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I continued driving through the mountains with Monchies feeling that luka lama that I thought I could feel no more.

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Lest We Ever Forget

There was a leak in the ceiling of the kids’ bedroom that left Kitreena’s pillow soaked in rainwater. The gutter on the roof was acting up again. So I moved Monchies to the guest bedroom. Yes, both of them. Edrick is nowhere near the stage of sleeping alone in a room, yet.

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A little later than their usual 7:30pm bedtime, and a new sleeping arrangement… Monchies wanted me to stay a while with them in the high queen-size bed. So I stayed for a while, answering all the ‘Mom-do-you-remember’ questions from Edrick.

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Then, Kitreena requested, “Mom, could you sing us the Greensleeves song, please? You haven’t sung us to sleep for soooo long!”

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And I sang…

Alas, my love, you do me wrong
to cast me off discourteously
and I have loved you oh so long
delighting in your company

Greensleeves was all my joy
Greensleeves was my delight
Greensleeves was my heart of gold
and who but My Lady Greensleeves

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Kitreena: Mom… what happened to Lady Greensleeves in the end?

Mommy: She went to bed and fell asleep immediately. Or otherwise she would do her Mommy wrong.

Kitreena: Hahaha Mommmmmm! *giggles giggles*

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I went to her side of the bed for a big hug. And when she held on to me a little too tightly, longer than usual… I knew I had to keep her in my arms longer than usual too. Then, as expected, came the “I-miss-Daddy” part. I cupped her face and looked her in the eyes. Her face was lit by the courtyard light through the balcony.

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Kitreena: But Daddy did you wrong!

Mommy: No he didn’t, sweetheart. Whatever Daddy did, he actually let ME do the right thing for myself.

Kitreena: How is that?

Mommy: It was good that I knew what he did, you know. Otherwise I would be staying with a man who doesn’t love me enough… for the rest of my life.

Kitreena: But what Daddy did was not nice.

Mommy: Let’s just hope he is happy doing what he is doing, shall we?

Kitreena: But how can he forget you so easily?

Mommy: Ohhh don’t worry about me. I am sure there are many who will remember me.

Kitreena: I love you, Mommy. I promise, I will never do you wrong.

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Love takes time, lest we doubt.
And hurt heals, lest we forget.

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Lest we leave... [Picture by Effa Mas]

Lest we leave…

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