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Archive for the ‘Sense’ Category

It was just an innocent catching-up conversation between two relatives about their common kampung friends. A very innocent ‘did-you-know-that-so-and-so-is-married’ chat that turned out to be my wake-up call.

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I now re-realize that I am back in this Malaysian society and very much belong to it. As much as I think I am ‘outside’… as I do think outside this proverbial box, I am deep in it. And so, although what I heard should not have bothered me, it surely has woken me up.

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“Eh, si Mat tu dah kawin kan? Tapi tak ada jemput pun.”
“Sebab dia kawin dengan janda.”
“Laa… iye ke? Kenapa lah tak cari yang bujang.”
“Janda tu dengarnya tua daripada dia, anak dua ke tiga, entah.”
“Ishhh! Si Mat tu muda daripada kita. Baru start kerja.”
“Anak dara bersepah, nak jugak kawin dengan janda. Beranak pulak tu.”
“Cari lah yang sebaya. Kot nak janda pun, biar lah yang tak ada anak.”
“Ah kalau janda tu tak melayan, tak jadi jugak.”

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I woke up right there and then, determined to find my people’s cultural definition of jodoh and bodoh.

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Hair You!

We were on the way to school this morning feeling fresh and entertained by the Krappi Call on 95.8FM. The car was inching in towards the school gate for the grand drop-off…

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Edrick: I think soon I’m gonna have moustache.

Kitreena: *looks at Edrick’s face* Ohhh yeah Edrick. But you are only eight.

Edrick: Oh kaka you should see my friend Haniff, he’s almost like an adult.

Mommy: Are you sure his name is Haniff, Edrick?

Edrick: Yeah. It is.

Mommy: Not Hairy?

Hehehehehe!

Kitreena: Mom, my friends don’t have hair on their legs. But I have a lot.

Mommy: That’s just the way you are.

Kitreena: Yeah, but Cody doesn’t even have hair on her legs. Mine is so long.

Mommy: You are like Daddy. Don’t you remember how hairy Daddy is?

Edrick: But Kitreena doesn’t have chest hair Mom.

Kitreena: Edrickkkkk! Eeeeyewwwww!

Mommy: Yeah, but you can’t really choose, can you? Like Daddy, he has lotsa hair everywhere but…

Kitreena: Oh yeaahhhhh, but the head.

Mommy: So be thankful you have hair growing in the right places okay.

Kitreena: I ammmm, Mommm!

Hahahahaha!

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The Hairy Fairies...

The Hairy Fairies…

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Go To Yell

Luka di tangan nampak berdarah...

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It just wasn’t her day. Kitreena forgot to bring her violin to school, and so she went straight to the music room just like what she had been doing the whole of last week, to wait for me to bring the violin. When she called me from the music teacher’s phone, I gave her a hard time for not setting it out by the door like usual. But I came back to school anyway, with her violin.

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Her class teacher came to the music room after Kitreena called me (as I was told later that Friday) and scolded her for being ‘blur’. Kitreena was ‘supposed’ to be in her class – although it had been okay for her to be practicing her orchestra on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday (and not having to be in her homeroom). She felt embarrassed and offended, to say the least, being yelled and shouted at by Ms. S in front of everyone in her orchestra. I have heard stories of her being yelled at in her classroom, but this time it wasn’t in front of her other friends who are used to being yelled at.

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And on top of all that… Kitreena fell during recess. Though much of the pain is self chosen, I knew the pain on her knees and elbows was nothing compared to being humiliated by her own teacher for something very trivial. And what was with the name-calling and scolding students for being ‘blur’? Is it not a teacher’s job to clarify rules to the children and to remind them when they forget? I was not going to defend my child for her tendency for being confused. But the yelling and shouting was beyond me.

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I am going to school this Thursday for the parent-teacher meeting. And someone who has been yelling and humiliating not only my child but many other eleven-year-old children, damaging their self-esteem in the process, is so going to have a professional slap on the wrist from me. And from the Principal. I do not send my kids to an international school to be yelled at and embarrassed by an incompetent English teacher who pronounces the word silhouette as sil-how-tea. Na’ah!

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Watch me.

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The story needs no introduction. I started seeing his pictures the morning of June 21st. I started reading and looking for more news on him on the very same day. But it wasn’t until the midnight of June 22nd that I cried my heart out when I saw a video on how he was found… abandoned.

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My very first thought was on what I could do to help the poor child. And my second thought was that there must have been a reason for the abandonment. The third thought was, I wasn’t there when whatever happened, happened. I didn’t help. I didn’t know. I didn’t care for what I didn’t know. So I shut my mouth up and kept on weeping.

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Now that I know there are people who do need help, what do I do? What do I want to do? I dare not tell Monchies this heart-wrenching story yet, for I have no answer if they asked, “What do we do, Mom?”

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For all single-mothers out there, may God grant us the wisdom to know what to do and the strength to do it.

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"Every child has feelings." ~ Genius Aulad

“Every child has feelings. ”
~ Genius Aulad
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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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Masih Sempat

Saat kau kucup keningku...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ada Yang Tak Mampu Ku Lupa
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Ada yang tak mampu ku lupa
bulu lembut di keningmu
yang meremang kala ku kucup
dan ketika ku sibak rambutmu.
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Ada yang tak hendak ku buang
serangkaian kenang-kenangan
yang tergambar di gelap malam
dan tersimpan di pucuk daunan.
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Langit di atas simpang jalan
menemaniku bernyanyi
bagai gejolak pohon nan runtuh
bersama gitar
bersama sepi
bersama luka
dan cinta.
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Aku masih sempat bernyanyi lagi.
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Ada yang mesti ku fikir lagi
melepas dendam dan sakit hati
dan berjuang membendung benci
Tuhan jaga lah tanganku ini.
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Ebiet G. Ade
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In the pouring rain on my way to Pak Ngah Studio to pick up Monchies the other night, I got a call from Edrick. He asked for my permission to get a drink at Pak Ngah Café. One for kaka Kitreena, and one for himself. I asked him if they had enough money for the drinks, as I don’t usually give them pocket money. They go to their classes at Pak Ngah after supper at home and they have their water bottle. So no pocket money for dinner or snack is necessary.

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But that particular evening, the kids only had cream of mushroom soup with garlic toast and steamed broccoli for supper and wanted nothing else. So I told Edrick that it was okay if they got themselves some Keropok Lekor. Edrick, in his innocent question to Kitreena that I overheard on the phone, asked, “Kitreena, do we have enough money for some krupuk?” There was only two ringgits left.

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It was when Edrick, in his innocent voice, asked, “Mom, what can two ringgits get us if it’s not enough for krupuk?” … that I suddenly felt sad.

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Sad in a way; that I don’t give Monchies enough money to buy what they need when they need it. Although I tried really hard to not pity myself after we hung up, what Edrick said in all his innocence broke my heart. They climbed up into the car that night, half-drenched by the rain and told me that Kaka Rina at Pak Ngah Cafe was so kind to only take one ringgit for the drinks. And that she gave them a big bag of Keropok Lekor for their two ringgits. I quietly burst in tears.

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I felt so ‘poor’ until later that night when I saw this saying…

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Don’t handicap your children by making their lives easy.
~Robert A. Heinlein

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I knew then as I thought I have always known it… that being ‘poor’ is sometimes a blessing. And so, I started counting.

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Coat Of Many Colors

Back through the years as I go wonderin’ once again
Back through the seasons of my youth
I recall a box of rags someone gave us
And how my Momma put the rags to use

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There were rags of many colors and every piece was small
And I didn’t have a coat and it was way down in the fall
Momma sewed the rags together sewin’ every piece with love
She made my coat of many colors that I was so proud of

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As she sewed she told a story from the bible she had read
About a coat of many colors Joseph wore and then she said
Perhaps this coat will bring you good luck and happiness
And I just couldn’t wait to wear it and Momma blessed it with a kiss

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And my coat of many colors that my Momma made for me
Made only from rags but I wore it so proudly
Although we had no money I was rich as I could be
In my coat of many colors my Momma made for me

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So with patches on my britches and holes in both my shoes
In my coat of many colors I hurried off to school
Just to find the others laughin’ and makin’ fun of me
In my coat of many colors my Momma made for me

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I just couldn’t understand it for I felt I was rich
And I told them all the love my Momma sewed in every stitch
And I told ’em all the stories Momma told me while she sewed
And how my coat of many colors was worth more than all their clothes

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But they didn’t understand it and I tried to make them see
That one is only poor only if they choose to be
And I know we had no money I was rich as I could be
In my coat of many colors my Momma made for me
Made just for me.

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If You Don’t

“If you don’t like the truth, don’t lie. Leave.”

~Enida Supian-Johnson
November 7th 2012

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Speak and Span

I have been thinking. And that, the thinking thing, is always a good thing.

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I have been thinking about the way I speak. Well, not just the way I speak. But about what I speak of and how I speak about the things I know and the things I don’t. And I have been thinking and wondering how it would feel like to be watching myself speaking. Of course not to myself. That would be surreal even though I do that in my head and in my closet all the time. But really, how do I speak?

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Do I speak humbly? Do I speak clearly? Do I express wordless stories in the way I blink my eyes, or the way I touch your arm whenever words fail me? Do I smile when I speak, or do I smile more when I listen? Do I breathe in every word I hear, or do I search for words in your eyes? Do I make faces when I speak? Do I make sounds as well? Am I rhythmic in my speech, or do I shoot my syllables?

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But then again, since I am down to writing my thoughts… do my words speak to you? Do you almost hear my voice when you see my written words? Do you see me speaking to you in these sentences?

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Do you feel me?

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Say What?

Mal Info

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Listen to this.

And the purpose of making an announcement is … ?

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