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Archive for the ‘Hurt’ Category

Mere Pehla Pyar

It was just too much to bear. The loss of Bibik’s baby. And I am missing my mother and my sisters like it’s my business alone. I had to cry it out. So, for the very first time I went and watched Kuch Kuch Hota Hai! Yes, honest to God it was my first time. Cik Nan once told me about this Anjali movie, I didn’t realize it was Kuch Kuch Hota Hai, so I went looking for Anjali.

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Now that I’ve found Anjali, am fighting fire with fire, tears with tears, recalling more than what I should about mere pehla pyar, something is happening to my heart. Kya karoon haaye?

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I’m gone… crying.

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It Is Well With My Soul

God works in His mysterious ways to restore me when, in the midst of all hurt and pain I chose to almost drown myself into, He pointed me to an old box to find a piece of paper with this on…

 

“Should you despair over a relationship gone bad;
think of the person who has never known what it’s like to love
and be loved in return.

 

Should you find yourself the victim of other people’s bitterness,
ignorance, smallness or insecurities; remember, things could be worse.
You could be them!”

 

I literally belted up for one good heavenly minute, took the deepest breath I had not taken since October 5th 2008 walking away from the enemy gate, then in great relief belted out… “Oh Enida! God loves you!”

 

Nothing felt better after that than putting the Watsons shower cap on my head, singing to the tune of Ville Du Havre in the shower, and smirking at every little lie someone (has been telling and) has to tell herself through her teeth for the rest of her perfect life to deny her bitterness towards her warehouse-sale-price self, to deny her ignorance, the smallness of her conscience, and her insecurities.

 

Pity.

 

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Can I?

If I am to be blamed for finding what I wasn’t looking for, then if you ever asked why I looked… I would just give you the answer all fools have given, “Because it’s there and because I can.”  The pictures, that is.

 

If I choose to feel the pain this time and be hurt by what I wasn’t supposed to see, then if you ever asked why I kept picking at the scab… I would unashamedly be that human left with no strength and say, “Because it’s there and because I can.” The wound, that is.

 

If I am cornered, left to deal with this emotion no one dares to call it anything else but anger, then if you ever asked why I couldn’t just forget it and move on… I would with no pride say, “Because it’s there and because I can.” The past, that is.

 

And if I just let me be that weak foolish human being unable to move forward, pulled back by painful reminders I didn’t know I was supposed to avoid… then let me make my mistakes. Because I am just a human. Because mistakes are there and I can make them.

 

I don’t hate many people. But because I am just a human today, I hate you. You keep making nothing but the same mistakes. I don’t hate many things either. But because I saw what wasn’t meant for me to see, I hate your mistakes. They keep bringing nothing but pain. (I called them lessons before, those mistakes. But I wasn’t human then.)

 

If you ever cared enough to ask why the hate now, I would just say, “Because it’s there, and I can choose to either live it or leave it.” The pain, that is.

 

 

 

I have not learned my lessons well, have I?
Maybe I should just walk away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The Shower Cap Tragedy

Had you come to me before July last year wanting me to talk about shower caps trivially, I would have. I could have. As trivial as shower caps could be. And as trivial as telling you that my favorite and trusted ones are those available at Watsons pharmacies. Thick, polka-dotted, and come in two’s.

 

And those Watsons shower caps were exactly the ones I got for Be’s colleague who had asked him to get in Malaysia (as she was on the Russian island where shower caps were nowhere to be found). Up until the end of July 2008, shower caps were not too personal to me. Sure! I drove to Watsons KLCC to get the colleague those precious shower caps.

 

But came August 2008, life taught me many lessons I could not have trivialized. Even shower caps taught me one:

 

  • That if one’s husband comes home telling the wife that a female colleague had asked him to get her (kirim) some shower caps, what may be going on between the husband and the colleague is nothing trivial.

 

Nothing is more personal than a shower cap but a thinking cap.

 

 

“What you do with your thoughts is entirely up to you.”
– Anonymous

 

 

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Hot Tall Vanilla Latte, Please!

If I  were to flirt with  the idea of flirting with him, I would first thank MokcikNab for the pantuns and the beautiful translation. Well, not that he can’t read bahasa. He is probably the only man with steel eyes in the whole wide world that can say, “Maaf, bahasa saya tak berapa bagus,” in perfect bahasa. And it was both his eyes and his tak-berapa-bagus bahasa that actually changed my tea heart to coffee!

 

But I am not going to. Flirt with the idea of flirting with him, that is. I don’t do the flirting thing anymore. Not since the year 1999, at least. With the knowledge I have about myself, breaking a heart is too heart-breaking for me to do. Afterall, even my heart is in its work-in-progress mode. But someday, he needs to know that there is a book written from the strength that the images of him had given me. Someday, he will have a page dedicated to his green sofas and his orange cat. And oh his hanging owls too! 🙂 But that someday is not today.

 

And then, if I were to seriously flirt with the idea of flirting with him… I would send him these pantuns:

 

Dari mana punai melayang
Dari sawah turun ke kali
Dari mana datangnya sayang
Dari mata turun ke hati

From whence flies the dove
From the fields and down the brook
From whence flows the love
To the heart from just one look

 

Dari mana hendak ke mana
Tinggi rumput dari padi
Tahun mana bulan mana
Hendak kita berjumpa lagi

Tell me where you go from here
The grass grows taller than the padi grain
Tell me the month, tell me the year
When you and I shall meet again

From: MokcikNab

 

But then, these were just thoughts I flirted with back then. The thoughts that got me through the nights of counting beads of tears. The thoughts that got me through the days of counting beads of prayers. For Mom, for me and for me Monchies. The thoughts that were wordless then as they all went into healing my heart. I am still one good work in progress. Wish me love and luck, that with my tak-berapa-bagus bahasa, I will have a book of heartful words.

 

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Love Comes Easy?

 

Why can’t love be an easy conversation like the way we talk about how your day was? Why can’t loyalty be like asking if you have taken your vitamin for the day? Why does it have to feel this heavy, this edgy and this teary? Why can’t it be breezy like Sunday morning?

 

If love is in the air, why can’t I breathe, love?

 

 

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Hard Done By

Cold cold heart hard done by you...It’s the weather, I figured.
That fifth day I was here, that 23rd day of April… the weather was exactly like today. It is the weather. The weather that came with the news that love is sometimes not worth keeping, not worth forgiving, not worth giving. Such cold news that froze my heart harder than the oldest iceberg.

 

And today, if I could turn colder than the coldest snow, I would freeze all the warm thoughts and all my kind words, only to tell you my cold truth that love and all its hardened meaning has melted. Away. My seasonless love is no more waiting for the summer’s sun, nor it is fond of the firewood smoke kissing the snowflakes that fall on our chimney.

 

My love has gone weatherless on a day like today. And on every today, for the many todays to come. I have turned too cold to feel.

 

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Over A Year

A few have asked why I am sounding like I am not over it. I have a big smile everytime I am asked, though. Do I really sound like I am not over it? Like I am still angry about it, like I am reheating it, gearing up for a big burn, burst or bomb or something? Well, if that is how I am sounding to you, you obviously don’t know me well. You have not seen how I dealt with anger.

 

Those who know me well, know… that silence is always The Resort I check my anger in. Which has been, with this anger for what happened about a year ago now. When I was driving from Nikko Hotel to Ampang to ask Mrs. X to face me, I was determined that it was her who needed to see me. She needed to see that this face, this person, this Enida comes with a heart. Enida’s heart can break just like hers can. The only difference was, she was not worth the heartbreak. She could bark and bite, and oh she’s got teeth alright, but she could not break my heart!

 

And I was going to give her the message of closure that 10 years earlier, the man was head over heels with me too… and I did not take him away from anyone. He was a free man. We did not build our marriage on the foundation of lies, mess and heartbreaks. The 10 years we had were the happy years until his job took him away from his family, and until childbearing and childrearing took me away from me. But when I got there, and when I was at her gate, my anger subsided. I was overwhelmed with the energy from my decision of courage.

 

I am not angry now, no. I am simply telling you a story from my side of the gate. And telling this story takes courage, not anger. You must be mistaken me for somebody else.

 

 
This is the face Mrs. X had to face - the picture taken on the very day I went to her gate. Now, is this an angry face? :)

This was the face she had to face that day.
This picture was taken on the very day I went to her gate.
Now, does this look like a face of anger?
🙂

 

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Pengakuan Berani

Facebook:

“Enida tells herself that courage – just like happiness – is not to be found, it is to be created.”

 

KaCher and I playfully experimented this not long ago, that if we wake up in the morning and make a decision to think happy thoughts, say happy things and just dress up to look good… we actually will be happy! KaCher even makes it a point to have her Facebook status sound cheerful as often as possible. It works!

 

Nothing new really. It is just based on “It’s all in the head” philosophy. But the key thing is, you have to DECIDE to be, and stay happy for as long as you can. Try it, if you haven’t already. You’ll find out how amazingly powerful your mind is.

 

Courage is also a decision one has to make. I mean, we really have to tell ourselves to brave it! It will not work if we just pray and keep praying, and look and keep looking for courage but never get ourselves up to fight whatever it is we’re afraid of. Most of the times, you will find that it is YOU yourself that is keeping you from your own strength and courage.

 

Like a year ago right on the dot, September 15th… I was grieving the loss of my beloved to a woman 10 years younger than myself. Forty days after my husband emailed me to announce that he was leaving me for this young married woman, I was done praying. I was done crying. And I was done looking for the courage that was playing hide-and-seek with me. So I phoned this 10-years-younger-than-me woman. I talked to her politely only to be advised that I should go talk to my husband. And only then would she take herself out of the picture. I didn’t think she realized it was my picture she was talking about.

 

I took her advice, nevertheless, as though in my ten yeas of marriage I never ever talked to my own husband. Even though she admitted that the thoughts of me and my kids crossed her mind, she was still going to spend her 3 weeks with him gallivanting in Spain for a free holiday… taking him away from his wife and two children, taking her away from her own husband and family over Hari Raya. (Oh wait a minute! She did pay my husband back RM10k – in two installments – her share for the holiday!)

 

And when they both came home – on the first day of Raya 2008 – from a regretful vacation in Spain, when my husband and I came face to face and I finally made my decision to let go of the marriage after we were done talking and he wasn’t coming home… I made another decision of courage. I went to her house! Again, I was done talking. I was done praying. I was done crying. I decided to move on. To be happy. (Happier, actually, for not getting tangled in such a mess.)  And I got the courage from just making that decision. I also decided that it was time for a closure.

 

As I never underestimate nor do I ever look down upon an opponent, I was actually expecting a grown-up woman tête-à-tête with her. She was about to take away what had been mine for ten years. The least respect she could show her husband-to-be’s (soon-to-be-ex-) wife, was by giving her two minutes for a closure, I thought. But nope! In her very own words when I called her from outside the gate that evening, “You knowing where I live freaks me out, Kak Enida! This is where I grew up. The neighbors know me! Besides, I don’t go to your gate or your area and do this to you!?”

 

Dalam hati, I thought… “Hah? Of course you don’t come and storm me at my gate, you dummy! I am not taking anything yours! In fact, you should be ashamed of yourself and never come close to me, my kids or even my gates! Eeeekkkhhh!” I freaked her out? My sheer knowledge of her whereabouts gave her goosebumps? Yeah, that was because she thought I was stupid. And that… had shown me how laughable she was. Oiii she can have it lah!

 

Obviously she wasn’t going to come out unless her fiance was there. (Oh yes, she claimed he proposed to her and she even had a special dress for the occasion, okay! Oh mi amore!)

 

Pagar-Pagar Cinta, izzitt?Hmmm… you know what, I should keep the rest of this story of courage for my novel. Look for Enida’s bestseller on the shelves, will ya? Chewah, bestseller, cik main! Hehe. If you can’t find it in the autobiography section, then you won’t miss it in the fiction! Tajuk novel akan diumumkan dalam beberapa bulan akan datang. Most likely it will be plagiarized from a movie title: Enemy At The Gate.

 

 

(Chin, how’s this for a cheap promo? Leng em leng?)

 

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Because That’s Why

The Guardians 

 

Unrelated to the pictures above and below, this is the scene in the kids’ bedroom after a phone conversation that went totally wrong.

 

Edrick:
“I can get a Kleenex for you, Mom.”

 

Me:
“Oh okay. Thank you sweetie.”

 

It was then that Kitreena entered the scene. She sat beside me looking at me like a little mother that she is. With profound concern and intense gentleness, caressing my back. Just the way I picture it with her in another 10 or so years when she would first have her heart broken into little pieces. She was trying desperately to comprehend the situation.

 

Tears for years?Kitreena:
“Why are you crying, Mom?”

 

Edrick:
“She’s crying because I gave her the Kleenex, Kakaaa.”

 

Me, already chortling quietly:
“Not because, lah Monch. That’s why.”

 

I am not mothering angels here. I am mothered by two of them who are taking English grammar lessons in return. And today we learned about cause and effect.

 

Just because I had tears in my eyes.

 

Mothering angels...

 

Just because.

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