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Procession?

December 1, 2009 by Enida

A friend stopped by tonight. No, that’s not true. It was I who stopped her on her busy track. I just wanted to say hello. But I didn’t just get a hello back. She stopped and gave me power!

 

She enriched me with a simple-but-simply-overlooked philosophy, that “Life is a process.” I thought I knew that all along. Well, indeed I did! I knew that. All along. But the trouble with knowledge sometimes is, we don’t put all of it in words. And when a great friend came along and put my knowledge in words that I thought I had heard before, I was stunned nonetheless.

 

For I realized that it was not her words that I actually heard. It was her thought. One of those many that I had shared. All along. In silence. And from a distance. She was there to say hello and release my wordless thought. The stopping-by was brief. But it was enough to have done wonders.

 

I am blessed with great love from great people. So blessed… that it made me wonder if in the many of my previous lives,  perhaps I was that smart accountant in Singapore, or that marathon runner in Hong Kong, or her sister in India, or was I that great professional gallivantor who speaks English, Dutch, French and Malay just as easy as her eating Nasi Lemak with sliced cucumber, boiled eggs, roasted peanuts and deep-fried ikan bilis?

 

Life is a process. And that’s what I am. In this life I am that thoughtful but wordless writer who knows very well how to love but knows not what love is all about.

 

Being thoughtful and wordless hurts. But that’s a process. Knowing how to love well, yet clueless about love… is painful. That, too, however, is a process.

 

But then, one day… when I have all the words and lose all the thoughts, the process will end. When I know what love is but know not how to love, I will end.

 

I would rather be a process in this life then. Be a work in progress. And in the meantime enjoy every strand of my gray hair, every wrinkle on my face and be entertained by every slightest thought of revealing the real name of that Shower Cap Woman (who had no idea that her middle name is also the brand of birth-control pills… until she got pregnant and did not know who the father of her baby was!)

 

I like this process of accepting that life is a process!

 

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The Shower Cap Tragedy

December 1, 2009 by Enida

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

 

 

Posted in Hurt | Tagged | 6 Comments »

She’s In Love With The Boy

November 30, 2009 by Enida

He wasn’t supposed to be a late November baby. In fact, he wasn’t supposed to be a November baby, late or early. Our first date wasn’t supposed to happen until December 15th, 2005. But then again, he wasn’t supposed to sit the way he sat… across Mommy’s tummy, however he wanted, refusing to compromise his own comfort.

 

Hence, Dr. Ravi Chandran suggested the dreaded C on December 1st. Came Noah’s Ark, hovercraft, high water of the water-break, he had to come no shorter than 2 weeks earlier (than the due date). And then again, Mommy had a selfish idea – she wanted to have a collection of two November babies!

 

And so he came on a Wednesday morning the 30th day of November 2005. It has been four years now since our first date and since I fell in love with this boy. The blessing is, I have kept falling in love with the same boy. Everyday.

 

Happy Birthday, Edrick Karl Johnson!

 

 

 

Posted in Monchies | Tagged | 1 Comment »

Warning: May Contain Adult Content!

November 26, 2009 by Enida

Me Monchies were changing into their pyjamas when Edrick started this conversation last night with:
“Kakaa, when you were a little boy…”

 

Kitreena abruptly, naturally and nurturally corrected the brother:
“Edrick! I wasn’t a little boy. I was a little girl.”

 

Edrick insisted:
“No Kakaa. When you were three, you were a little boy!”

 

Kitreena looked VERY confused at this point when she said:
“No Edrick! When I was three I was a girl. I am a girl!”

 

Edrick:
“No! I am three and I am a boy. When you were three. You were a boy too!”

 

Kitreena:
“What are you talking about? When I was three, I was a girl. Now I am seven. I am still a girl, Edrick.”

 

Edrick tried to explain his theory:
“Kakaa, I’m three and I’m a boy. When you were three you were a boy. When you’re seven, you’re a girl. When I’m seven, I will be a girl. Goddit?”

 

Kitreena’s jaw dropped right to her feet when she finally understood her brother’s Gender Identity Theory:
“No Edrick! You don’t change! If you’re a boy, you’re always a boy. When you’re a girl, you’re always a girl. You don’t change when you’re seven!”

 

Edrick was puzzled when his theory was denied by his seven-year-old sister:
“You don’t change?”

 

Kitreena:
“Noooo silly! You’re a boy. So you’ll still be a boy when you’re a grown-up. And I’ll still be a girl when I’m a grown-up.”

 

Edrick went into his vocabulary show-off mode:
“You mean when you are adult?”

 

Kitreena bolayan:
“Yeaaahhh… grown-up, adult, the same thing.”

 

I might have looked like I was busy putting the laundry away and sorting the hangers in the closet (Edrick’s hangers are blue and green. Kitreena’s are pink and orange.) And I might have looked oblivious, but I could tell… there were so many theories formulating in those little heads. There is so much going on right now – upstairs. Oh I can tell!

 

I mean… just look at their face!

 

 

 

Posted in Monchies | Tagged | 3 Comments »

Hot Tall Vanilla Latte, Please!

November 25, 2009 by Enida

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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Read Roses Written Blues

November 25, 2009 by Enida

 

I ended up with my own Roses Are Red poem because I could not quite agree with its ‘Violets are blue’ logic. Violets, to me, are not really that blue. They are reddish blue, perhaps. But not blue blue. Or true blue. Blue and red equally. Purple perfectly. And of course purple is a mix of red and blue. Violets are logically, literally, and therefore should be literature-ly purple. Not blue. I stood to have been corrected by myself, thank you very much. And now I stand to be corrected by anyone who dares to correct me with a better correctness than mine.

 

This is my blog, lest you forget.

 

I began changing it by first mental-scanning for a word that rhymes with sweet. It would have been nice to keep some of the poem’s original sense. And then I recalled Kitreena’s artwork today of a hummingbird. She spelled bird as b.r.d.e. Hmmm… oookayyy, let’s tweet the birdie shall we? And then I found this fancy post-it with a bird. Call it karma or sutra, I must have been a bird in my past life. And so I saw the blue skies. Blue violets can be on somebody else’s notes then. Haven’t got the blues for ya, violets!

 

‘Sugar is sweet.’ Sugar? That is such a processed sweetness. Can’t we have something a little bit more natural here? Like honey! I honestly think it goes better with birds, skies and all. Honey from bees, bees and birds fly, and they like clear blue skies as well. Plus, I don’t wanna be thinking of that sugar refinery in Felda Mukim Chuping or of a packet of Gula Prai when I get to the ‘Sugar is sweet, and so are you’ part in the poem!

 

Well, as you can see… I went through quite a bit of a thought-process for such a simple note for Kitreena. And oh yes, she is on the second rerun of her spaghetti boxed lunch from home. I made Spaghetti Carbonara but with some fresh chopped tomatoes and pickled artichokes the other day. Mama mia! Tanto gusto. Tutto belissimo. Abiss ito. Massu tido. Mmmuuuaaahhh! Buona notte, mia colibri!

 

 

Original version:

Roses are red,
violets are blue.
Sugar is sweet,
and so are you.

 

 

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I’ll Be Write Back!

November 24, 2009 by Enida

 

I was going to start writing Kitreena simple notes tonight – notes that I will slip into her lunch box tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after, and everyday after that. Found these two old old glow-in-the-dark pens and was going to write on the recycled black cover of a color pad. I had already found one of those Roses Are Red poems to be my first notes.

 

I did say those two glow-in-the-dark pens were very old, didn’t I? I can bet you a dollar to a vareniki that they are actually older than Kitreena. Hmmm… guess what? They don’t work no more. They don’t even glide. Forget about glowing!

 

I am off to look for my gold and silver marker pens. They are not older than Kitreena. They are older than me!

 

Posted in Write On | Tagged | 2 Comments »

Ma Baker

November 24, 2009 by Enida

Not me!
Naaa. I am more like a Ma Faker, to be honest.

 

I don’t bake. I can be sweet – thank you – yes, I can. But I am not known for makin’ n bakin’ those sweet and chubby stuff you call muffins. Yeah, or cupcakes. With my oven I can bake, broil, and roast things that move on two, four and eight legs, or things that move with feathers, fins, fans and fangs. Oh I can have a fishy affair with my oven, for all that my lover cares. But I am not your cupcake chef with cherry on top.

 

That’s why when my hubby had to leave for Siberia on Sunday, I felt deserted, dejected, rejected, cheated and very very deeply impacted. He is the baker in the house! For him to be away when I need him the most is just cruel! By the way, I finally said yes to his marriage proposal after nine times asking, after two years, and after watching the movie Deep Impact! (Go figure!)

 

And now there is no impact deeper than this week, when… almost ten years of marriage, two kids later, and when it is Kitreena’s turn to bring snack to her Girl Scout meeting, Daddy is not home to bake it! You can tell me if I am exaggerating it. Tell it straight to me faeces, weel ye?

 

It was, to put it in a very plain term, a stressful night for me last night trying to decide what snack to make for the girls. Kitreena was begging me not to send apples. Apparently there are many health-conscious parents out there who would fain want these Daisies to snack only on fruit. Well, I could have sent pears or bananas. But being Enida, I take snacks very seriously.

 

Deserted, dejected, rejected, cheated, deeply impacted, seriously stress-outed and all… I made these:

 

 

To hide the hideous cracks on the muffin caps, and of course for hygiene purposes, I individually serene-wrapped them. The recipe calls for VERY ripe bananas. But my Bonanza bananas, though looked bruised and brown, were pretty middle-aged. Hence, not enough moisture. Hence, the cracks. Hence, told ya ma no baker way early in me post.

 

I wasn’t trying to scare the girls with the ugliness of the muffins or anything. But I, in fact, almost accidentally poisoned the Girl Scout troop today with my muffins had I not checked that the stickers – which I thought were candies – were not edible! I was going to stick ’em pretty stickers into the muffin caps. Luckily I decided to suck on the first one. The stickers are plastic!

 

 

I don’t blame myself for not speaking or reading Japanese, nor do I feel handicap for having such a cheap idea trying to cosmeticize my not-so-pleasing-to-the-senses-looking muffins. But the label and instructions that came with the stickers sure gave me such a misleading idea that they are made of sugar and meant for decorating cupcakes.

 

Aaahhh well. It all went well in the end anyway. Kitreena came home with Kristy (the Scout Leader) who announced that my Bonanza Banana Muffins were a hit at the meeting. (Of course, Kris, after many meetings snacking on apples, anyone would go bananas!) I was just happy that my cosmeticization effort didn’t end up being a plastic surgery.

 

       

 

 

 

 

Postlude:

The day before Kitreena’s next turn to bring snack to Girl Scout meeting, Mommy will make sure Daddy’s house-arrested!

 

 

Posted in Monchies | Tagged | 2 Comments »

To Shadow A Son

November 24, 2009 by Enida

 

“They’re here, Mom! They’re here!”

 

Posted in Write On | Tagged | 1 Comment »

Simply

November 23, 2009 by Enida

We have been wanting a lot of perfections. We have been avoiding too many distractions. But sometimes all we need is just…

 

Some plain Meehoon Goreng and…

 

 

… a little challenge.

 

Just enough to fill us and feel alive.

 

 

 

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