remember not to forget me…
the kampung life… something i never grew up with, and only dreamt about.
last weekend, the dream visualised.
never really saw this coming. to live in a wooden house on stilts, with so many windows, overlooking a neatly kept garden and pineapple farms in the background. on top of that, there were chickens and catfish, and a whole lot of family…
atok, my adopted father, and mak cik, my adopted mom, have 15 children, more than 50 grandchildren and 4 great grand children. they can’t even fit into the house anymore. atok was one of the pioneers of the kampung, and he is one of the imams. at 73, he had a slightly high blood pressure; apart from that, he was as fit as a horse.
we ate together on the dining floor, with all the lauk they prepared, and drank fresh juice. we talked about so many different things, and were treated like beloved grandchildren. i miss them so much!
they loaned us their clothes and so we took pictures on kak ayu’s pelamin. 
mat pui was the man, and intan and i were the twin sisters.
it was so worth it, being a part of their family, and even though we didn’t have anything at hand to offer them as thanks, yet, they were overwhelmed with tears, just because, family was leaving. never was i so honoured.
i love my own family back in PJ, but now i have another to love and to pray for, to talk to and to call my own. I miss you guys!
Uncategorized | Comment (1)the missus.
i miss… old times. i hate change. call me autistic, OCPD, whatever. i cling on to memories, and wish they’d always remain. alas, they don’t.
i miss amma’s house. i miss the beautiful garden and the slippery porch floor. many a day were spent sweeping leaves off that floor and washing and scrubbing it often ended in a splash party/bath outside. we were young and shame was never a problem.
i miss her room, with the Yardley talc smell, and the ever burning wick at the altar. i used to blow it out because it reminded me of birthday candles. my pyromania, i suspect, evolved from that fire.
i miss lying down on the bed with her,with an extra kain sarung as my blanket, and how she always got annoyed when i was busy rolling around instead of sleeping. i miss her.
i miss being the strong one. getting up early because i was responsible, not because i couldn’t sleep anymore. making coffee and waking my housemate up, and riding to school together.
i miss giving directions using hand signals because Left and Right got confusing. i miss completing stories i have heard before because he couldn’t find the right words in English.
i miss backrubs and head massages, giving them as much as getting them. being worn out together in this long, long course. late night mamaks just because we didnt have dinner together, or for the sake of leaving that old yellow house.
i miss nagging about DOTA or reading comics. i miss cleaning up the studio apartment-of-a-room because of my OCD-ness. i miss studying together, fighting because of the answers we disagreed on, and laughing at all the full moon jokes.
i miss being ourselves back in those days. in as much as i resist change, things can and will never be the same."everything changes, even change itself." Sam was right of course. and some changes i readily accept. but such strong, fond memories always drift me back to a time that stood still, where experiences were golden, no matter what they were.
like my beloved sisters, who mean so much to me. childhood friends who then grew to awkward teenagers, who then gracefully entered aduthood with all the life-changing events that follow these eras.
knowing them changed my life a little. growing with them changed me completely. now, we are leading completely different lives, thrusted with a whole array of different sensations and experiences. though we still maintain our friendship, it just isn’t the same. and although i guess this is a good thing (as we are changing everyday), a part of me still wants the old back.
i know i should embrace the new. i know that holding on makes me irrational and sometimes condemning. i know that if i insist on such things, all those strongly bound friendships would start to fray. because, what i am hoping for is something in a time capsule. the whole world has moved on. although i seem to have moved on, a part of me just isn’t ready to change.
things i have left behind, like closed chapters in a book, are past relationships and bad dressing sense. but, friendships, well more than anything, i thought they would follow me into my old age. and no doubt they would, however not in the same way i guess.
MEMORIES… they start with ME.
Uncategorized | Comments (2)Funnily, this seems quite true.
DECEMBER=BEAUTY
This straight-up means ur the most good-looking Loyal and generous. Patriotic. Competitive in everything. Active in games and interactions. Impatient and hasty. Ambitious. Influential in organizations. Fun to be with. Easy to talk to, though hard to und erstand. Thinks far with vision, yet complicated to know. Easily influenced by kindness. Polite and soft-spoken. Having lots of ideas. Sensitive. Active mind. Hesitating, tends to delay. Choosy and always wants the Stubborn and hard-hearted. Strong-willed and highly motivated. Sharp thoughts. Easily angered. Attracts others and loves attention. Deep feelings. Beautiful physically and mentally. Firm Standpoint. Needs no motivation. Shy towards opposite sex. Easily consoled. Systematic (left brain). Loves to dream. Strong clairvoyance. Understanding. Sickness usually in the ear and neck. Good imagination. Good physical. Weak breathing. Loves literature and the arts. Loves travelling. Dislike being at home. Restles s. having many children. Hardworking. High spirited.
So i didn’t say it was all true… and you know how i hate all these things, forwarded mail and stuff. but, hey, i’m in the mood!
coffee and tv.
you know the days when you just wanna press pause. and not have to think, and not have to worry, and not have to be someone you are not.
i don’t see a big deal in dressing up, if there is no real indication except that people who pass by might see you not at your best. i don’t appreciate small talk and politics, and the latest gossip doesn’t interest me (ok sometimes it does, but only if it is relevant).
i want a day when i can just be me. when i can be alone and unaware. when my conscience can speak out and not get drowned with a million other voices droning into my ear.
just give me my coffee, tv and please get out.