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Posts Tagged ‘Life’

Life’s Lemon Tea

Have you ever drunk that perfect hot lemon tea when the heat is just perfect, and the tang is just perfect, and the life you’re drinking the lemon tea to is just perfectly painful you feel like drinking your whole life into nothingness as you empty that perfect teacup?

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It would not have been a perfect tea without some water boiled, some lemons sliced, some tea leaves plucked, and some clay burned.

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And for me to think all these when I was sipping on my perfect Hot Lemon Earl Grey Tea at Delicious @ Dua Residence on a beautiful sunny morning when everything was (supposedly) going well? Not good, Enida. Not good at all. Be grateful.

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For You

For if only you could see me now, you would move my hands away from my face, wipe the tears away from my eyes, and take the pain away from my heart.

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For if you could hold me in your arms tonight, your heart would break too. For me.

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I’m Keeping It

You know how it works with the mind, don’t you? That when we want something so much, so badly… we tell ourselves that we need it. And even after finding out that it isn’t really what we want or need, we tell ourselves we need to ‘finish’ it. We search for reasons. We make excuses.

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At the end of it all, we want to avoid saying, “We didn’t try.” So we keep pushing for the next level. Up or down. We keep hanging on. We keep climbing, saying it is the climb that matters. For whatever it is, we have this profound need in finding proof that it’s worth it. Worth finding. Worth trying. Worth keeping. Or worth letting go.

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And then we make up stories to tell none other than our gullible little self that we need to hurt in order to heal. Some of us hurt others. The rest of us hurt ourselves. We contain that pain as deeply as we want to contain joy. And we list down all the choices we made that have led us to the final chosen pain.

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More often than not we play the blame game. We lose, we lose. We win, we  still lose. We’ll never put back the clock. Nor will we ever walk backwards pretending that we haven’t gone through what we have gone through.

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At the end of the day, it is the climb – and its hurdles, and its steepness, and the height, and the challenges, and the tears, and the sweat, and the blood. And everything else in between finding it and quitting it. Whatever it is.

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And whatever it is I look for… I actually find it everyday. It’s just a matter of keeping it.

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The faith.

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Sampai Merajuk

Tiba-tiba terasa merajuk hati dengan dunia. I love my life, no question about it. But when so many things go wrong because they can go wrong, and I can’t say, “Don’t go wrong!”, it hurts my feelings. Merajuk betul hati saya.

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Bibik belum sampai. The delay has been a week! Saya kecewa, marah dan merajuk dengan Khalimah kerana tak tepati janji. Uangnya udah saya bayar penuh sebelum lebaran Buk. Gimana nih?

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Monchies semakin nakal. And I am too tired to speak gently. Tapi bila saya terpekik-pekik, saya tambah letih. Tekak pun sakit. Sia-sia. Saya merajuk dengan Monchies dan kepenatan saya sendiri.

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Shipment dari Moscow belum sampai dan kaki saya terasa lebih dari gatal untuk berlari. I am exhausted, but I know if I run… I get back the energy. Saya merajuk dengan Lancang Kuning belayar malam terlalu perlahan. Roar roarrr Rasputin!

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I had a loved one who didn’t love me enough to ask me to stay. So I left my loved one and I left love. I am now loveless. Saya merajuk dengan cinta dan dunia. Kerana cinta itu entah-entah tak pernah ada. Saya yang terlalu percaya. Bukankah hidup kita akhirnya harus bahagia? Bahagiakah saya? Ohh!

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Saya ada Facebook dan 285 orang kawan di sana. But I am getting so up-to-the-nose with those who claim to be my friends but ‘hog’ other friends of mine, tell me lies and act vulnerable for the reason known only to them. Terasa seperti hendak berkata, “Come on lah, you think I am desperate like you, izzit?” Saya merajuk dengan beberapa orang di Facebook yang so lah fake.

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And then, there’s another friend whom I have known for a while, out of nowhere asked me to only send her SMS’s if it is important because she’s a busy woman. And the deal is, she will give me a call if she receives a text message from me that she deems important. Hah? Begitu rupanya friendship kita? Mulalah rasa nak nyanyi lagu Adam Lambert nih! Saya merajuk dengan friendship begitu. Apakah?

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Kitreena doesn’t like the new school all that much. She feels that she is an ‘Either-Or’ and most of the time she is a ‘Neither-Nor’. Fitting-in is still a challenge. And the teachers are not as friendly and loving as those at Anglo-American school di Bukit Pokrovsky. Saya merajuk dengan sekolah Jalan Ampang itu kerana saya tahu anak saya bercakap benar tentang ini.

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Hari ini saya sakit kepala memikirkan dunia. Ya, dunia yang sama yang saya merajuk hati dengan. Mujurlah saya kelilingi diri saya dengan orang-orang yang betul-betul ikhlas menerima saya seperti:

  • my KaCher (for all the support. All!)
  • my Lil Sis (for worrying with me about Bibik and Romsiah)
  • my brothers (for washing my car, picking up my CRaVy’s spare keys, for looking for my slippers, for running my errands, for everything!)
  • Aunty Halimah and her daughter Noraini Rajudin (for the special Kuey Teow, Kue raya tapau and the two little kittens that have been named ‘Kitreena’ and ‘Edrick’)
  • Tuan Nor (for the admiration, the kebangsawanan, and the ‘Panas dingin hatiku, hanya Tuhan yang tahu’ saying!)
  • Ida Bakar (for the yummylicious Mee Kuah, Popiah and ‘The Sosilawaty Lawiya Last Trail Tour of Banting’ and Fish Tour in Kelanang)
  • Shareen Ameen-Fors (for the gift of new friendship together with her family, Noah, Bisha, Aunty and Uncle. Loved the python story! And dialysis has given me a new meaning and appreciation)
  • Lisa Lish Johari (for the positive outlook and support towards Enida Consultancy & Services. Brilliant ideas! What should we name our cafe?)
  • Rosmadewi Razali (for a cozy friendship, the throaty laughter and the restaurant bill that went up to RM3,000.00 in our imagination. What a hantu you make me!)
  • Chin Neoh (for the bahasa conversation yesterday and the Cantonese refreshers I am going to get this Friday morning while we gallivant di Tempat Biasa! You are my Jack Daniels on the rock, bebeh!)

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Haruskah saya terus merajuk dengan dunia?

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…in my books, 11 years old girls are just too young to own a handphone…even if you have enough duit raya to buy one yourself…wait till you’re 21 ok…public phone got what?????…

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Nina, my dear Facebook Friend, put up a status that got me thinking today.

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My initial response was: “I told my Monchies, until they have a steady job to pay the monthly bill, they have no rights to ‘luxury’.”

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And then I got thinking, that as parents we always try to compensate for the very thing we cannot give our kids. Time. We buy them cellphones, for instance, with the excuse that in emergency situations they can call us easily. Or even in non-emergency situations, it enables us to communicate with our kids worry-free.

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But in any situation, do we really communicate with our children? Do we listen to them? The phone enables us to hear them, yes. But can they really talk to us, heart to heart, on the phone and off the phone? Do we take time to communicate with them?

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Also, as parents, every time we buy our kids something ‘big’, we justify the purchase with, “Oh when I was your age, my parents could not afford this. But now at YOUR age, I can. So I get it. So you get it.”

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But then again, I got thinking…what would our kids say to their kids? And the thought scared me as I realized that luxury can do a lot of damage to character building. How are we going to teach them to be humble when they are so used to having everything? And not just everything, but everything NICE.

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As cliche as it may sound, “If it is too easy, it never lasts.” my mother was right. And so I am sticking to my principle that, unless you earn it, you don’t deserve it.

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And that is also MY reason for not believing in this Duit Raya custom. I apologize if it offends those who take it as a charity. But I see it as a way of teaching our children to have unrealistic expectations. We do not give money for nothing, nor do we get money for ‘free’. Being a good person is not something that you get paid for. Well, not in this life anyway.

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Me Monchies have been asking why they are given money on Hari Raya. Other than saying that it is the culture of and custom for Hari Raya, I do tell them that it is a ‘donation’. Kitreena is happy to receive Duit Raya, but she has been asking, “Mom, I am not an orphan and I am not poor. But why do I get donation?” So I told her, that people just feel like ‘giving’. And like usual, she always has the last why.

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Anyway, the way I raise my Monchies, I want them to see that money is earned. That’s the reality for us adults, and that’s the way reality should be for children. Otherwise, I should expect Duit Raya from my family, friends, foes, and those Dunkin Donuts‘ cashiers at Ikano.

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Semoga…

Dengan rasa rendah hati dan penuh penghargaan, saya mengucapkan ribuan terima kasih bagi pihak Virgo Batik Resort, Lumut, kepada:

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  • Dzulfitri Yusoff,
  • Danial Jazmy Jamzuri
  • Amirudin Dunia
  • Imillya Irwani Roslan dan Syed Yaamin
  • Isma Zuriyya Ismail dan Mazli Abd Rahman
  • Hafiza Sanusi

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… diatas sumbangan ikhlas teman-teman saya ini menjayakan Majlis Berbuka Puasa bersama Warga Kompleks Manabi’ul Ulum, Madrasah Batu 10, Lekir, Perak, yang telah berlangsung dengan jayanya pada 5hb September 2010.

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Although you were not with us at Virgo Batik Resort that night, given the short notice and the long distance, I am happy to ‘report’ that your love was there among the smiling faces of Anak-Anak Yatim, Warga Emas dan Golongan Kurang Berkemampuan.

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Tak terganti penghargaan saya ini dengan sekadar ungkapan Terima Kasih. Doa saya semoga Tuhan memberkati usaha dan sumbangan kita. InsyaAllah.

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Enida Berada

I must have been seven then and I remember specifically asking my dad what ‘class’ we belonged to. Whether we were Orang Kaya or Orang Miskin (The Rich or The Poor). You know how it was as a child, we had this funny urge to belong and to fit in, hoping that we were the hierarchical toppers. When I asked dad the question, I remember looking specifically at our bathroom door almost feeling sorry that it didn’t even look like a door.

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But perhaps it was that door that made dad think we were in a class of our own. He said we were neither kaya nor miskin. We were Orang Berada‡.  Because we had a house. We had a bathroom. And our bathroom did have a door no matter how unlike a door it looked like. We had money. It was barely enough but we had money when we had it. We had wheels. Riding on dad’s bicycle was definitely faster than walking. We had food on the table. Though we didn’t really have a dining table. We sat on the floor around our food at mealtimes. But we had a floor of the house. And we had a house.

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Most of all, said dad, we had the will to better ourselves so no one would call us The Poor. I learned it from my dad that we didn’t have to have all, to have it all. We had it all figured out and today we are okay. We are our all. Each other.

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Orang Berada‡ loosely translates to ‘people who have (everything)’

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