.
.
Tuan alun saya tarikan,
peramu anduh bersapa bahu;
Tuan mohon saya berikan,
bertemu jodoh siapa tahu.
.
.
.
.
Posted in Poetry | Tagged Writing | Leave a Comment »
.
.
Mujhe jaana padega,
aap ko jaana hogaa.
Magar… kabhi alvida naa kehna.
.
.
.
.
Posted in Hurt | Leave a Comment »
Within the next few paragraphs, I am going to sound annoyed. And I am going to be very blunt. If you feel poked, great! Maybe the paragraphs are for you. If you feel that you are wrongly accused, go ahead and sulk. See if I entertain moronity.
.
Number one, I like questions but I don’t like them being asked because the questioner is too lazy to look up the answers before asking. I may not have quarter of all the answers laying around in the world. But I, Questa è Enida, at the very least, know where to find them. And most of all, I want to find them first!
.
I don’t speak or write Chinese. That’s a fact. So when I get curious of Jonah Ong’s Facebook status in Mandarin, I copy, paste and translate using Yahoo! Babel text translator. One example.
.
And then if I am not sure if Dubrovnik is the capital of Croatia or Lithuania, I can always Google it with a Giggle. Another example. So now you see why it is very challenging for me to comprehend why you have to ask me where Cha’ah is!
.
Number two, I appreciate friendship as it is, at any levels. You can be my best friend, my close friend, my teman-tapi-mesra friend, my kawan-biasa-biasa-sahaja friend, or remain my Facebook friend. If we were back in the 70’s or early 80’s, our closeness might have upgraded you to be my Abang Angkat, Kakak Angkat, Adik Angkat, Pak Menakan Angkat or Maktok Angkat.
.
But let’s face it. I don’t have time to go through the adoption process to angkat you anywhere okay. The year now is 2010 in case you haven’t noticed and in case you have missed your make-believe shinkansen. I either keep you on my Friends List, or I remove you. Simply.
.
I do understand closeness, intimacy, comfort or whatever you name it between two people in friendship. But you really don’t need to be afraid of my judgement. I don’t give it a dime. You might be the best of friends, holding hands, pecking each other on the neck when you think nobody is looking. But honestly, you don’t need a certificate to prove that you’re not screwing each other.
.
So the term Adik Angkat, Abang Angkat, and Girlfriend Angkat are really not necessary in this new millenium. Not that I want to know what is going on between friends behind closed doors either. I am a big girl (trying to look small). I am not that naive lah, por favor.
.
Number three, I am very comfortable being Enida under my proverbial Moscavado Sugar skin. At times I may come across as that hot beechy girl from the hottest hell rambling endlessly about grammar, spelling, hurt and pain of parenting children and men. But for all you know I have my own bills to pay too. Who says it is easy being brown on a blonde’s land?
.
Just like you, I have stories to tell. Just like you, I hope my books will sell. Now if you could just quit asking me why I deleted you from my Facebook Friends List, I might be able to finish packing. And that is if I could remember what else to pack on my back other than me two Monchies.
.
Uh, excuse me. Where am I going again?
.
.
.
.
Posted in Sense, Write On | Tagged Facebook | 2 Comments »
Enida berpantun…
Akar selasih rapuh di peti,
kalau kaduk mana pucuknya?
Biar kekasih berjauh hati,
kalau rajuk mana pujuknya?
Posted in Poetry | Tagged Writing | 6 Comments »
We just came home from a 4-hour walk at the Moscow State Tretyakov Art Gallery, plus a 2-hour walk at Aliya Perusa. I went to sit beside my son who was about to browse through the TV channels.
.
Mommy: Ohhhh I’m tired. Can I sit by you and die please?
Edrick: No Mom! You can’t die! You’re not 100 years old yet.
Mommy: Yeaaaah but I don’t have to be 100 to die.
Edrick: But you’re not 100% yet.
Mommy: You’re right. I can’t die now. *goes ahead and dies in her son’s arms anyway*
.
.
.
.
Posted in Monchies | Tagged Parenting | 4 Comments »
I am braving the pain.
I have cried, but it only hurt my eyes and my face. For my voice had fallen on deaf ears and my love had reached a dead heart.
.
For everything that is no longer here…
He will lead me away from my fear.
.
.
.
Posted in Hurt | Tagged Life | Leave a Comment »
When I make my own coffee every morning, noon and night, whether using the Nespresso machine or just having Nescafe Gold, I make sure to scoop sugar into my coffee mug first. Call me superstitious, it won’t hurt my feelings. But I always believe in order and the logicality of order.
.
Scooping something sweet into the mug first, I believe, is like putting positive thoughts and aura into your day first and foremost. So when bitterness – as in coffee – comes in, it symbolically falls onto my cushion of positivities.
.
But of course this order and logic does not apply to those who take their coffee black. I don’t. Coffee for me is always with 2 cubes or 2 teaspoonfuls of sugar and a 2% creamer.
.
And never, ever, do I make coffee by pouring hot water into the mug first! That is a coffee-making sacrilege! Scooping sugar or instant coffee with a wet spoon is also considered a crime in my house. I have seen way too many coffee granules contaminating jars of sugar in my life. I’ve made a vow to not commit such sin in my kingdom.
.
But of late, I have been having an affair with those 3-in-1 Nescafe Gold in sachets. And although this instant drink is regarded by coffee-lovers as a disgrace to ‘real coffee’, I do not deny that it is humbly delicious. Therefore, I, Questa è Enida, unashamedly disclose and unabashedly confess that I have sinned and I am going down. 
.
To earth.
Posted in Write On | Tagged Me | 4 Comments »
.
.
If happiness was the destination, I would sell my soul to be on the fastest way there. But I learned that happiness is the journey itself. I have to hit the road. And still it buys no souls.
.
.
Posted in Sense | Tagged Lesson | Leave a Comment »
There is this song from my childhood that I can still recall. While I am not particularly sure of the original singer, I remember the unidentical twin sisters with long curly hair who called themselves The Queen or The Queens singing it with their beautiful manja voice. Well, I like anything and everything manja. So this song came naturally to my senses. Still does. Anybody knows this song?
.
Jangan ku digoda
jangan aku kau rayu
bebaskan hatiku ini
dari rasa cintamu
.
Berilah ku waktu
mencari kepastian
jalan yang penuh berliku
tak seindah impian
.
Nanti di suatu masa
aku kembali sayang
ke pangkuanmu
.
Akan aku dirikan
istana cinta murni
kasih dan sayang
.
Janganlah kau ragu
jangan berhati bimbang
demi kebahagianmu
izinkan ku berjuang
.
Posted in Nostalgia | Tagged Songs | Leave a Comment »
Date: January 25, 2010
Time: Between 0700 and 0800 hrs
Venue: Enida’s Kitchen
Speed: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8… 900 rpm and then 8 again
Direction: North-South-East-West-Up-Down-Back-Forth
.
Whatever you call it, brain or mind, it is an amazing tool. I was amazed at myself this morning as I amazed myself when I caught me thinking so many thoughts within less than one hour. It must have been the sleep I had last night, though shorter than what I hoped, was one of the very high quality I have had lately. I woke up with an active mind ready with Plans A, B and C for any A, B and C circumstances.
.
My routine Monday-to-Friday-hen-pecking-at-Kitreena session for some reason went in Bahasa Malaysia this morning. It started with her taking her own sweet time shampooing her hair ladidididily and applying the hair conditioner ladidadidaly. I don’t usually like those 2-1 shampoos, because really… how can a ‘detergent’ work with a softener when they are mixed together? But hey, in Kitreena’s case, if someone could come up with 6-1 shampoo, conditioner, body soap, body lotion, toothpaste and breakfast all in one bottle… I would gladly DHL 30 bottles every month with huge ‘For Personal Consumption ONLY’ stickers pasted all over the jumbo box!
.
But seriously, she can take 15 minutes to get some toothpaste onto her toothbrush. Brushing would take her 35 seconds, and cleaning the toothbrush 5 minutes. By the time she picks up her hairbrush, it’s already nightfall!
.
Ah well, you know me. It would take me 2 sentences to start exaggerating and to wander high and low, near and far wondering where my Dara Monchy got her dillydally-ing and ladidididiladidadida-ing talent.
.
Oh, did I say I was hen-pecking at Kitreena in Bahasa? After making and packing her lunchbox, feeding her breakfast and feeding her brother breakfast, I had to brush Kitreena’s hair as she forgot to brush her hair after she brushed her teeth. And this is after doing it five days a week for so many months here, accumulated into so many years. She forgot to brush her hair?
.
Naaahh, kan mama’ eh suda bilanggg! Sampek turun itu matahari menunggu tangan kawu ini mencapei sisir. Aaiiiihhh! Teda lah kedapatan. Di bilang eh ayo ayo, yang lagi ayo mama’ eh saurang. Yang lagi siap mama’ eh saurang. Mok ka skolah ndak? Sedari jam brapaaa tadi mama’ eh bilang. Masa eh lupa rambut di palak ndak disisirrr? Di eeeehhh!
.
And there I was going at the speed of a waterjet, pockpecking at Kitreena with all my good intention and all in one breath. And to all that, she said… “What do you mean, Ma?” That’s it! My mistake! I should speak more Bahasa around here. Teach Bahasa to these Canadians in the house.
.
I didn’t repeat myself, though. I had a good time bahasaing. I felt good. So good, I sent Kitreena to school with an extra-large smile.
.
.
Ratu Kebaya Buzzy Bee 2006
.
.
.
Posted in Monchies | Tagged Parenting | 1 Comment »
-
In Her Words…
In Her Thoughts…
In Her Time…
In Her Search…
In Her Count...
- 157,982 hits
In Her Mind…
-
Join 84 other subscribers
-
https://www.w3counter.com/tracker.js?id=151113
Questa è Enida 