Mondays Sunny Side Up

I'm feeling good today. I jumped in my car, turned the volume up and start speeding down the road to office as the song of my choice, Mika - Grace Kelly starts blasting over my stereo. I'm in the mood today.

I usually hate Mondays. And it's usually because I feel like the weekend wasn't satisfying enough, and I wake up Monday morning wishing that I had more time during the weekend to do the things I wanted to do over the weekend.

But I just had a great weekend.

Met up with someone for lunch on Saturday, and sat for a whopping 5 hours over endless cups of green tea, over sweetened watermelon juice and a weird but surprisingly tasty honey-lime-papaya juice... doing nothing but chatting and getting to know one another. Just the kind of one to one interaction I enjoyed most. Made an oath that if I ever reach the age of 35, never to try hitting on pretty and intelligent 19 year old girls. I also discovered that to compensate for the lack of an attractive physique and a receding hairline, older men eventually learn how to become extremely charming sweet mouthed. Capable of killer lines such as "I've never felt like this with any other women before, but somehow with you I feel like there is a connection."...... GOOOOWD.. I felt like poking the eyes of of the next fat balding 35 year old man I see. Mainly because by right lines like that should be reserved for use only when it really is true, and not like after a few dinners and chats on the phone!! Those precious kind of lines should be nothing less than SACRED to a man, and not some standard 'charm line' that follicle-ly challenged lonely geezers use on girls they fancy. And the prettier the girl, the more likely she's heard it a thousand times before from other birds nest headed dudes, thus destroying EVERYONE's chances. Stop it old man, stop it!! Imagine if a, less suave, but entirely genuine younger guy, who knows nothing else than speaking what's in his heart, eventually plucks up the courage to tell the girl of his dreams the same line..... only he MEANS it. What will said pretty girl do? What will she think? She's blow him off too! The poor chap will be scarred for life! He'd probably give up on women and *gasp* become a celibate MONK!!.. Oh the tragedy!! *sob sob*

Anyway, the hours flew by and before you know it was dinner time. My dad did always say time flies when you are sitting with a beautiful girl. I thought he was just being metaphoric. Turns out he was literally right.

I rushed home, and brought my family out for dinner. Choice of food? Indian. Banana Leaf Rice. Mode of eating? Bare hands baby! It's always fun eating with your hands (once in a while)... people say the food taste extra good. (I suspect these people would tell you not to wash your hands too) I duno.. I just like ripping the chicken apart with my hands like some medieval barbarian. Didn't really like the fact that your hands tend to smell like curry for a good few hours after no matter how many times you wash your hands. Got back to my brothers place, and lied down in bed next to my mother, holding her hand. She insisted that I tell her all the itsy bitsy nitty gritty little details about my life. She wanted to hear everything. And so I told her... not quite everything, but enough to let her know about her sons life. I could tell she wanted to hear it because every time I told her something new, she would smile, and share in my excitement. In my heart I was glad... glad that I was blessed to see such a moment such as this. A peaceful, quiet, time where we just sat there being mother and son. It has been a rough and tough last 10 years for her, and for us. And at that moment, looking at my mother, holding her and and hearing her laughter... I realized just how fiercely protective I was over her. Not many people know this side of me, or seen me in this kind of mode........but I'm actually a mommy's boy... shhhhhhhhhhhhhh

The next morning, I picked her up again, and for the second Sunday in a row, I actually brought her to church. And for once, I didn't feel like God was about to strike me with lightning at any moment. Mainly because I was holding my mothers hand, and I'm pretty sure God wasn't about to strike me as long I was holding on to her. So it may seem like she was clinging on to me, avoiding the cars and all, But it was really ME clinging on to her, avoiding divine punishment from God. LOL. I enjoy listening to sermons.. and believe it or not, I actually pay attention. I do listen and try to absorb what the pastor says. Whether or not I actually practice what is preached is entirely different of course.. but the thing is, there are not many places you can turn to for spiritual guidance. Many people don't realize that human beings are not only emotional beings, we are also spiritual beings. We crave for spiritual and emotional growth and guidance....not logic and reason. those are secondary. That's why every corner of the earth, where there is people, there is SOME form of religion or belief. We look beyond ourselves, to the people around us, to leaders, and ultimately to the Divine for some spiritual food. That's why I pay attention during service. After service, we scurried off (mom and I not one to mingle around much with people) and went for lunch. Returned to my brothers place after that and just hanged around the living room doing nothing.

I discovered that my brother thought that I was a very serious person, that I take myself and life a bit too seriously sometimes. Isn't it weird to hear that coming from your older brother? I agree that I DO take life seriously. I DO take the people around me seriously. Aren't we supposed to? But if there is one thing I have tried to do all these years, is not take MYSELF too seriously. I try to laugh at myself. And since no one seems to dare making fun of me, I make fun of myself. My squinty eyes, my pseudo beer belly (that's a typical beer belly that you get even though you hardly drink beer.. bizarre eh?), my absolute lack of dressing sense beyond T-shirts and jeans... and of course, my ultra lame Visit Kuala Lumpur T-shirts I wear almost all the time. I mean, better people laugh with you than at you right?

And in his attempt to 'lighten me up' so to speak, he often invited me to play computer games with him which I often rejected. I know how to play computer games, but I sort of outgrew them in secondary school see. But I was in a particularly good mood this weekend...  being in a sort of 'bonding mood' ever since Friday night. And so, for a change, I invited him to play computer games with me. And we played for a couple of hours, battling evil wizards and demonic creatures and saving the world from certain doom. You see, I learnt that you bond with ladies by having heart to heart talks and talking about your feelings. You bond with guys, by beating the crap out of highly detailed, computer rendered demon characters in a fantasy world. Nothing says we are brothers for life better than saving the world from certain doom together. That or exchanging dirty jokes.... but that's not something I'd do with my dear brother.

And on the side, I got praise from my mother for taking pictures of pretty flowers in Cameron Highlands. She's a big fan of flowers, so I think she was praising the flowers more than my photo actually. But still, I felt like a little school boy all over again, receiving praise from mommy. LOL. Here's the picture.

Evening, I sent my mother back to the nursing home, and headed straight to the swimming pool... which to my delight.. was near empty. That means no annoying kids that pee in the pool, no frighteningly muscular swimmers that make you feel like a blop of unattractive fat and no eager beaver show off boys trying to impress scantily clad girls swimming around. No pretty girls around too.. sigh... but heck, I can't see anything without my specs anyway, so wasn't missing much even if there was any around.

After an hour of swimming, I showered and came home, with dinner and my beautiful fiancee already waiting! Had dinner, retired into the room, wrestled on the bed and tickling each other, lazed around and talked for another good few hours before finally dozed into my sleep. Work schedules tend to get int he way. She said she missed talking to me like this. Casual conversations about whatever really. Didn't really matter what we talked about... it always seems interesting she said. Said I was a nice person to talk to, and it made me smile ear to ear....

I don't always have something to give people, I don't always have wise words or insightful thoughts to share... but I do always have my company to give people, for those who want it. Nothing made me happier than knowing the people around me enjoy my company.

Good conversations, enjoyable company, bits and pieces of bonding with family, paying your Maker long overdue respects and worship, not get strike by lightning, saving the world from certain doom, receiving praise, alone time, exercise, and a home cooked dinner on Sunday night..... Aaaaahhhhh...... Now THAT's a weekend.

So much so, it seems to have spilled over to Monday morning. And as I parked downstairs of my office, I swore to myself I'd not check my mail OR write a single post till I got my job done. But I guess, when you've got something to share, there's no better time to do it than the present. Fresh off the oven. Have a good Monday folks.

Cheers!

Everyone needs time to themselves.....

I've been thinking a lot lately about my need for time to myself...

I'm the kind of person that seems to constantly need time to myself. Every now and then, I find myself longing to be alone, by myself rather than have someone by my side. I don't think I'm a loner... or maybe I am little, but have you ever found yourself in situations where you had a choice of going at it alone, or with someone and find that you rather do it alone most of the time? No? Or maybe somethings wrong with me.

For instance, sometimes when I have to make the long 3 hour drive down to Singapore, I'd rather to it alone, than to sit with a colleague with me. I can go when I want, stop when I want, listen to what I want, as loud as I want, and not need to force myself to create conversation for the sake of it. After a hard days works, I sometimes would rather just be alone in the room, by myself, doing whatever it is I feel like doing, which most if the time.. is actually nothing. LOL. Yes, I like doing nothing sometimes...

Then there's also the kind of hobbies I seem to have taken up.I like reading; that's done alone. I like swimming; that's done alone too. And I like writing; alone again. Why are things that I have so naturally taken up be things that are done strictly by myself? Somehow, I don't think it's a coincidence. When I read, I'm totally immersed and lost in whatever world and thought the author brings. When I swim, I hear nothing but my own breath, the beating of my own heart, and sensation of my body cutting through the water. I feel free, at peace and calm.When I write, I find focus... focus on my thoughts. It sometimes takes me hours just to write a single paragraph, but often times, it's not the end result that helps me. It's the thought process. As the words come out, I struggle in trying to make what is written truly reflect what's inside. Write and rewrite, and then you realize that you can't write about what you don't know, and that's when the journey of discovery often starts for me. Vague ideas become crystal, fuzzy feelings become clear, and many a times, hesitations and doubts transform into deep rooted conviction.


But time to myself doesn't only mean I want to be alone all the time. Many times, I sit alone in my room and look the the four walls, and wonder why I'm sitting alone and everyone else seems to have company. Wanting to be alone is often a cry for some time to one's self. But wanting time to one's self doesn't necessarily mean wanting to be alone. Time to myself at it's most basic level means I am free to do whatever I want, without having to ask anyone, or tell anyone or answer to anyone. And sometimes, I just want to meet the people I want to meet, and share thing things I have to share, no interruptions. I consider that time to myself too.

There are times when I'm with certain people, people like my mother, or my fiancee, or a close friend, and I intentionally don't pick up the phone when someone calls. Not for anyone, even when it's a call from another important person. (Unless it seems to be an emergency). I usually call them back later. When I say I want to spend time with that person, I try to ignore everything else, ESPECIALLY the phone. In this day and age, we never seem to think about when it's important to answer a call, and when to ignore it. The phone always gets answered by default. Don't people know that it is as much for yourself as it is for the person that you are talking to that you don't be interrupted by phone calls? Give your full focus on the person before you. They deserve it more than the one on the line. There's always voice mail, or text message, or they could always call LATER.

There are some people, whom I feel like meeting, just because I feel like seeing them. These are people for one reason or another, I long to establish connection with. These people belong in a special category. Most other people, I only meet on occasions i.e. gatherings, activities, outings, movie.. etc. But when I'm having time to myself, I sometimes yearn to meet up with people in this special category. No movies, no occasions, no reason. The meet IS the reason. And although I'm not alone, meeting up and establishing closeness with these people gives ME a sense of fulfillment, contentment and meaning to my life. That my life also involves other significant people. It's like I draw a circle to establish a boundary that defines who I am, and I find that as small a circle it is, I want to include them in that circle too. They matter to me, and I want them included in my life. The thing I fear the most is often that they might not have drawn me in THEIR circle. But I think I've already written about that earlier.

It took the person I'm with almost 7 years to figure this out about me. She used to think I was behaving secretively and suspiciously. But really, all I was doing was asking for some space and time. I never explained it to her, because quite frankly, I didn't quite understand this about myself either. Until one day, all stressed out and tired, she looked at me and said "I think you need some time to yourself. You haven't had that in a while.". I stared at her in amazement. Because it was coming from her; the person that I often felt was the one taking up all my free time, leaving me no time to myself. She had figured me out all on her own and she was right.


I smiled because I was glad I didn't have to try defending myself or explaining myself on why sometimes, I just need time away, even from her. I was glad she understood...

Everyone needs time to themselves.....

Malaysia Day

 Malaysia Day is Now a Holiday!!

Did you read the news? We've got yet ANOTHER holiday to add to our ever growing list of public holidays. This time it's Malaysia Day falling on every 16th Sept of the year. I have actually done any counting, but it sure seems like we actually have more than our fair share of holidays. Lets see, there is (in no particular order):

Hari Raya Hajix 1 days
New Year's Day x 1 day
Hari Raya Puasa x 2 days
Awal Muharram x 1 day
Prophet Muhammad's Birthday x 1 day
Chinese New Year x 2 days
Labour Day x 1 day
Wesak Day x 1 day
King's Birthday x 1 day
Independence Day x 1 day
Deepavali x 1 day
Thaipusam x 1 day
Sultans Birthday x 1 day
Federal Territory Day x 1 day
Christmas Day x 1 day
And now.. Malaysia Day x 1 day

That's about 18 days. And since its supposed to be a 5 day work week, that's almost an entire month off! Malaysians are working only 11 months a year! Rest of the time, we are on holiday...or at home watching TV. That's not even counting annual leaves we take to extend the long weekend, or or the occasional now-you-see-me-now-you-dont-disappearing-act we pull on our bosses sometimes. That that I'm complaining la... who doesn't want another off day right?

For those of you who are either (a) Not Malaysian thus unfamiliar with Malaysian history or (b) A typical Malaysian that hopelessly failed your history paper, listen up. Malaysia Day is supposed to be the day MALAYSIA as we know it today was formed. That thing you celebrate on August 31st is independence day, is called Merdeka. Back in 1957, the British decided to bail out of Malaya and leave us to our own devices after creating a mess in the first place by bringing in people from China and India and segregating them. Our ancestors, Ah Chong from the city, Ali from the Kampung and Muthusamy A/L Ramanathankrishnan from the rubber plantations lived in what was known as Malaya before independence. After independence, we were still strictly known as Federation of Malaya. On 16th Sept 1963, on Lee Kuan Yew's birthday actually, Malaysia was formed, after Sabah, Sarawak and Singapore agreed to joined in the fun. Brunei was also invited to this little gang, but things didn't really work out. See, the Sultan of Brunei wanted to have autonomous rule over their finances and military etc, plus he wanted the rest of the Sultans to call him the King of Kings.. or something like that... The rest of the Sultans weren't amused. I think neither was Jesus. That plus, the peoples of Brunei were a bit jittery about 'them people' from the west side of the south china sea tryin'a tell them what to do. So, Brunei missed the boat, and Malaysia was formed. Indonesia weren't too pleased, and had an undeclared war with us, but we survived. Some years later, Singapore left due to 'irreconcilable differences' but has since living a very successful, albeit paranoid existence.

But yeah.... that, in a nut shell, is what Malaysia day is all about.

Back to the holiday thing, our PM says that this off day is supposed to be spent fostering the 1Malaysia spirit among Malaysians. Don't even get me started on this whole 1Malaysia hype thingy...  But there has been problems and confusion for decades now concerning how Malaysians should celebrate independence or our countries existence for the matter.

On August 31st, West Malaysians tend to celebrate Merdeka while East Malaysians are 'obliged' to celebrate it, even though they know historically this wasn't the day THEY gained independence. They are just playing along and being nice. One country already mah, so be nice la. Give face. 2 weeks later, on 16th Sept, Malaysia day comes, but all the West Malaysians 'no mood' already.... and have to catch up on work after a month of preparing for Merdeka, plus it AINT EVEN A HOLIDAY. Where got mood to celebrate rite? The East Malaysians look at this, and potong steam la.. not to mention get pissed off. "Oooh, I celebrate with you, now you just ditch me la... Bugger you, I should have just join Brunei, at least there, petrol is cheaper and everyone gets a free house...." If I was a East Malaysian, I'd be seriously pissed too.

The celebration of a countries existence or independence has always been one of the most unifying factors for a country. Sadly, there has always been some sentiment that Malaysia Day has not been taken seriously, often overshadowed by West Malaysian celebrations of 'Independence' of Malaysia on Merdeka Day that is neither politically nor historically correct. Maybe it's just another politically motivated move to gain popularity, or maybe he's really serious about it, but out of the blue, almost 50 years down the line, Malaysia Day finally gets it's recognition and is granted as a national public holiday. According to Mr. PM:

Malaysia Day would be celebrated with events that would foster closer unity, understanding between the different races and community success and achievement through sports, social culture and arts.


But frankly la Datuk, this is only half baked effort la.. Not to mention a shameless publicity stunt. Race? What race? This isn't a race issue. Plus, I wasn't aware we were racing anyone. :p Events? What kind of events? Closer ties are fostered in the day to day things you do in life, not some event. It's fostered when people start accepting each other and have a oneness of mind. Not through some publicity driven event i.e. marathon for unity, or climb for peace, teh tarik competition, dance carnival in front of the Agung or or whatever. Those are just called 'syok sendiri' events. It still doesn't change the fact that West Malaysians are still ' celebrating independence on 31st August completely ignoring Malaysia Day. Of course, now that it's a holiday, they'll ignore it even more by just sleeping at home. :-S

So, if you really want to foster closer ties, here's what you should do Datuk:

1. Get rid of August 31st Merdeka Day celebration.
2. Make Malaysia Day 2 days Holiday (Or 3 oso can la, I don't mind)
3. Make Malaysia Day the focal celebration of Malaysian independence and Malaysian existence.

Apamacam? Got balls to do or not? Malaysia boleh mah.....


Let everyone have a oneness of mind. And a single focal date to channel their energies. Educate people. Make them realize that our country today was not born when the late Tunku chanted "Merdeka, merdeka, merdeka" at Stadium Merdeka.... That was just when the water broke and labour pain started leh... It's a milestone yes, but that wasn't it yet la. Malaysia was born when 6 years later, across the sea, the peoples of Sabah, Sarawak, and Singapore (as short lived as it stayed) agreed to join us to form this country. What happened in between was strictly labour pains. I know it's less romantic la, and less cool that we were born when pieces of papers were signed instead of when the Tunku chanted independence in front of thousands. But  really, that was when it happened. THAT was when Malaysia was formed. It was ONLY THEN that the term Malaysia was even coined and our country came into being. The sooner we acknowledge that, the better.


And looking at how much contribution the land and the people of East Malaysia has contributed to our nations wealth and prosperity, lets try not to pissed them off too much la, after they REALLY end up joining Brunei..or worse.. Indonesia. Then die la. I got a lot of east Malaysian friends, and I'd still like to enjoy my kolok mee and kampua mee and super fresh seafood once in a while, if you don't mind.

Cheers

Paper & Pen

Scribbled out of pure boredom (how's that for blogging?)...

I have no idea how to make the resolution higher so, just click to enlarge OK.

Reflecting @ 30,000 feet in the air..

This was shot on Sunday night, using my phone camera, as the plane I was taking was leaving Subang airport on my way to Singapore. As the plane took off, I couldn’t resist taking a picture of the view from my window, despite knowing how crappy pictures from phone cameras tend to be, especially at night.

I was in a pensive mood that night; a million and one other thoughts going across my mind. I always get this way when I'm alone, with no one to talk to, ever reflecting, ever searching my own heart for answers... or at the least, clarify of mind.

I thought about dinner Friday night, when my brother and I finally came to some sort of agreement on what to do about my mother. I thought about how funny it was that despite spending our lifetime together, going through thick and thin, he and I have never really talked about our feelings regarding our ordeals when growing up. That night was the first, and I never felt closer to my brother than when sharing all these things. He was the only one who ever saw what I saw, experience what I experienced, and felt the pain I felt. We grew up to be very different kinds of persons, but because of what we went through together, there was a unexplainable bond between us. We used to hate each other and fight a lot. When I was 13, we were fighting in the room again, to the point of physically punching and assaulting each other. My father, came in fury, broke us apart and said to us “The two of you only have each other, no one else. You only have each other to depend on if anything happens to me or your mother”. My brother and I looked at each other, and something changed from that day onwards. We never fought with each other again. We’ve had our disagreements and arguments. But he stopped treating me like a baby, and gave me the respect I always yearn for from my older brother, and I started giving him the respect that he deserved, as the older one, even if it was just a couple of years older. I thought nothing of giving him whatever spare cash I had a few months ago, because I remembered….. when he got his first job and I was still studying, he gave me what he could, without me asking for it.. and I knew he did it out of love.. Love for his brother.

I thought about my mother. I always think of her. It’s funny that many people close to me don’t know how close to my heart she is. But then again, probably everyone has their mothers close to their heart. 3 times in my life, I thought I had lost her for good. First, when I was 13 years old, on her birthday. She swallowed 28 tablets and told me she was ‘going to sleep for a few days’. I was in my school uniform, ready to go to school, but instead, I used every last dollar I had to send her to the hospital immediately. The next day, everyone thought I was a lazy bum, intentionally skipping class. It was easier to let them continue thinking so. Second was when I was 20 years old. We had received a lot of calls from her. She didn’t sound very well. My brother and I took the long drive up north to see what was going on, and as we drove up to the house, we saw the house door open, the entire house ransacked, smelling of urine and dirt, and there in the far end of the kitchen, lay my other motionless on the floor, half naked and not responding to my calls. “Dear God, please don’t let her be dead”… I think that was what was going through my mind. The 20 steps to the back of the house were one of the most dreaded ones I’ve ever taken. Half desperate to see if she was OK, half terrified……..that it was too late. She was alive, but not what you would call living. We had to bath her and dress her and carry her to the hospital. She couldn’t stand, she couldn’t walk, she couldn’t recognized who we were. For the first time in more than 10 years, I witnessed my brother break down and cry…. I wanted to cry with him, if only the tears would come. The third time was when I was 23. My brother broke the news to me “Ma was hit by a lorry…………” I was too afraid to listen to the rest of that sentence. “It’s my fault.. it’s my fault.. it’s my fault. Please let her be OK, please let her be OK”… that was all I could think of before he finished his sentence. It was a hit and run. The lorry driver hit her, came down, cursed her in the middle of the road, and drove off. She got up, walked to the side of the street, and sat down, not realizing how bad her wound was. Passers-by called the ambulance when she finally passed out. She was in a wheelchair for the next 6 months. She required 30 over stitches on her skull, there was a hairline fracture to her lower spine, and she still walks with a limp today. With her haggard look and somewhat unusual mannerism, people constantly stare at her. I think she feels it. Society always looks at you differently. It’s the stigma that comes with being a mentally ill person. I didn’t want her to walk the streets thinking people were looking at her in a funny way. It hurts me to know that about people, but I try to stand tall and proud next to her, showing to the world that, yes, even a frail and ill woman like her can have a son like me. I wanted her to walk the streets and be proud that while some other mothers have sons that couldn’t care less, she had 2 young, successful, capable and strong sons, who were there by her side that she could be proud of, for whatever that’s worth. It's be nice if she could boast about something for a change.

I thought about, my girlfriend.. Sheesh, I should stop referring to her as that. But for some reason, it' still taking me some time to adjust to caller her my fiancee. I'm slow at adapting to change. She'll be going away soon. She quit her job in the hospital and got the job in Saudi Arabia, as she had hoped for. Many discouraged her from going, mostly her relatives. Some were worried for her safety. Others say it was risky leaving your man alone to his own devices for an entire year. Things happen, and you never know if other women came along and snatched him away; a fear I know she could never really erase too. Plus, what kind of couple gets engaged and then decides to part ways for almost an entire year? For that reason, I have been careful in the way I've been supporting her. Too eager a support for her to go would almost imply like I'm only too happy to 'get rid of her' so to speak. But I have been her staunchest supporter. "Go for it. It's a once in a lifetime thing. You will remember it for years to come." I said to her. To me, her going overseas, could only be a good thing in her personal development. I didn't want to have her stuck in Malaysia without ever having the opportunity to see the world, to see how others live. Traveling to a foreign land always broadens your mind and teaches you things about yourself, if you have the eyes and the mind to learn from it. Life always teaches you by experience. The lessons only come AFTER you've done whatever it is you're supposed to learn. It's always retrospective. This was more than just about the money. "Go dear. And do yourself a favour this next year. Go travel on a holiday, either to Egypt, or Europe, or anywhere else that you can afford to go while there. I insist." I said to her. To the nay sayer, I simply said to her "It will take more than a simple year of being physically apart to destroy what we have been building together for 7 years. I'll be here when you leave, and I will be here, waiting for you when you return.". I have wondered to myself how on earth I will manage this coming year without her. I have always been a strong advocate people being independent despite being in a relationship. As close as two people are, you can never be my whole world, and I can never be your whole world, at least we shouldn't. You still need family, you still need friends, you still need time of your own. Being in a relationship should add to the sum of what you are, not diminish the things that make you an individual. Something I believe strongly in after seeing how my mother crumbled when my father left her. But I suddenly found myself fearful of being alone again, without her constant company. What will I do on weekends? Who do I talk to? Who am I going to share my constant lame dry jokes with? She leaves in a month. What about Christmas? Shucks..... this would be the first Christmas I will be spending without her. She was the one and only soul in my life that stood in then the most inner core of my heart, any closer and you would find my heart. No one else has ever come even close to this most inner layer, no one else knew me better, no one has accepted me as I am more than her. There was no one I could act more myself than with her. I could be silly or serious, reflective or ridiculous, and somehow, she still loved me for all my peculiarities. I needed her, more than I had realized.

Other random thoughts ran through my mind.

I had a list of ten outstanding things to do on my work. I keep telling everyone I'm busy. And everyone keeps telling everyone else I'm busy and overloaded. Truth is, I've just been inefficient.... and procrastinating... and daydreaming. I've been busy being distract by every other thing that I'm not supposed to be doing (like blogging). I suppose in a way, I've shifted a gear down a bit for now. This time last year, I was full steam ahead. Traveling everywhere, working weekends and nights. I hardly had time for my family, what more my friends. But with so many things happening in my personal life of late, I didn't want my life to evolve solely around my work. I needed to make time for others too. Family, loved ones, myself..... and of course... God himself. These things deserved my time and attention too. Work never ends, and every task seems urgent. There will always be things to do, deadlines to meet. it's so easy to get get lost in that ride, because day in day out, we are reminded of these urgent deadlines by the boss, or an email, or a call, or a fax. The squeaky wheel always gets the oil. But there are other things in life that are more important, but seemingly never urgent, until it's too late. There's a stinging pain in my ear every time a close friend of mine asks me how is my walk with God is going. I wanted to reply that God's practically dragging me along on the floor, nagging me like a father who's at the brink of loosing his patience before leaving me behind. Hours earlier, my mother had greeted me with a big smile and said to me "Come, let me give you a kiss, this prodigal son of mine." and I happily obliged. She said it's so hard for her to catch this younger son. Always jetting off here and there. I felt guilty.

There was someone I was supposed to meet for coffee. I hate first meets. It gets me nervous and jittery. I never know how to behave, what to say, or how to do when meeting a stranger. "Can't people just skip to the second meet straight away?" I asked myself. The first time I ever agreed to meet a stranger, boy was I in for a surprise. She was bigger, taller, and probably stronger than I was. Her arms were the size of my thighs, and she had a battalion of girlfriends (of comparable built) to meet me and my skinny friend. I didn't know if she thought of breaking my neck for staring at her with my mouth open wide. To say I was shell shocked would be an understatement. What was her name again? J... someting... Judy, Jane? ... No... no.. aaaah.. It was Julie. Yes, Julie. I'm so sorry Julie. You left me too shell shocked... and I wasn't sure how to behave. These days, I assume everyone I'm meeting for the first time looks like Quasimodo, and I tell them I look like Quasimodo. Something I learnt in my working life: Always under promise, but over-deliver. Keeps everyone happy.

I closed my eyes... and tried to sleep. At least with flights, there were no bumps.. except during turbulence.

I wanted to be a pilot when I was a kid. Free as a bird, flying here and there, and looking oh so cool in those pilot uniforms and shades. I remembered the first time I sat in a plane. I was so happy and excited. I got a window seat. I didn't blink an eye as the plane slowly sped down the runway and took off, feeling the sensation of your weight shifting backwards as the plane climbed the sky. I never got to be a pilot. But at least I was still flying. I wanted to share that moment of elation with someone. To be able to say "Hey, this is my first time flying! Look, no motion sickness! I didn't puke, and I didn't freak out either!" But I was alone. So, I suppressed my smile, bit my tongue and just stared out below, seeing mother earth from 30,000 feet in the air for the first time in my life. Life's no fun when you have no one to share it with.

I thought back on my friend who sent me that thank you email a few years ago. A silent smile to myself. Maybe I do matter to people around me. Maybe there is a point. Maybe I CAN believe in the heart of others. She was one who gave me Tuesdays with Morrie, by Mitch Albom to read. I fell in love with it. I identified a lot with the writer, and the things written in the book. It got me thinking a lot about life (which seemed to be my favourite topic)... and the best part of the book was, it was written in a very personal and intimate way. It felt more like someone sharing their very real, and very true personal experiences and journeys through life, rather than some millionaire motivational guru tryin'a tell you how you should live your life.

After I touched down, I walked into the first bookstore I saw, with every intention to buy Tuesdays with Morrie, to read again. God knows I really needed a good dose of life lessons and words of wisdom right about now. But I never came out with it. Instead, I walked out holding his second book; "The Five People You Meet in Heaven".... a book I had no doubt, I was going to enjoy too. It starts with a man dying.. and going to heaven, and meeting 5 people who's life were deeply affected by HIS life in some way or another, even though he never even knew it did. Everyone has their own story.. but everyone story intersects with one another and affects us. In that sense, we never really lead meaningless life that don't matter to people. We're all connected in some way. But really, just the darn title was enough to make me buy the book.

I've started reading it.. and it has some really really beautiful lines. Gosh, how I wish I could write like him. Maybe one day I could write a book.. Mondays with Mom.. or something life that. If you haven't already read it, please do (the Mitch Albom book, I mean). I'm pretty sure I'll be sharing some of it here. But for a change, I'm not going to rush through a good book (like I usually do). This time, I want to read it, line by line, savouring it. If books had flavour, I think this one would be Cookies and Cream, with a topping of chocolate. Rich, creamy, fulfilling, with a good firm bite inside.

Cheers.

Friends of the heart.....

 What's in your heart?

I find myself asking that question, a lot of times..

Every time I sit down and start writing to myself. It's like going to freaking confession. "What's in your heart?" I ask myself. And often times, I stare at the blank screen for a long long time, just trying to figure out the answer to that. I type, and retype.... and erase the whole damn thing, go wash the dishes, then sit down and ask myself the same question again.

You know how people say there is no lying to yourself? Well, they weren't entirely correct. There are plenty of ways to lie to yourself. Human beings are good at that. We call it rationalizing. We call it justification. We call it reasoning. Often times, it's so hard to admit that we want the thing we want, even if it's wrong, even if its something we aren't supposed to want. We are emotional beings first and foremost, above this layer of emotions, is our intellect. And boy are we so good at rationalizing the thing we want.

Do I really agree with this? Do I really want that? Is this something I truly can accept? Do I really care? Can I live with myself like this? Is this something I really want deep down? It's a confrontation for me most of the time.. trying to seek the truth within me. I'm an inward looking person. I find answers not by reading what others have said, or what others think (thought that helps sometimes), but by looking inwards, into the very core of me.. into my heart. So many times, the things I find scare me. The knowledge that I am actually capable of many secret, deep, dark, wrongful deeds scare me. Things like countless occasions of wanting to be unfaithful, of wanting to stop caring, of wanting to hurt people. Other times, I find bits of emotional truths.. of values and beliefs that have guided me through my life.. bits of truth I didn't even know was in me. How strongly I feel about family bonds, how I judge people, how I perceive the goodness in others....and how I became such a cynic in life... and how I'm stubbornly still wanting to believe in the good of others. Confronting myself regularly has been one of the most enlightening and illuminating things I have done for myself. I sleep better at night knowing that at least I'm being honest... with myself la.


But...........What's in your heart?

I find myself asking that question, a lot of times too.

Everytime I meet someone new, and think that maybe this person has the potential of becoming a friend, I silently ask the question "What's in YOUR heart?" The only thing more daunting that figuring your own heart out, is trying to figure someone else's. In fact, I'm inclined to believe that it's downright impossible. But It's important to me somehow. I don't need to know everything. Just a little is enough for starters. But I do need to know you have a good heart. A caring heart. A heart that is not cold, evil and (for the lack of a a better word) 'heartless'.

If you're going to be a friend, that mean's I'll probably want to share a lot of things with you. If I start sharing a lot of things with you on a personal basis, the last thing I want to discover is that you never REALLY cared in the first place. That would break MY heart. If that was the case, I'd rather we just be acquaintances, exchange pleasantries now and then and happily move along with our individual lives. I'd risk nothing sharing my heart with you, and you save your ears hours of needless listening. This isn't the same as sharing things on a blog (like I'm doing now). Because whatever it is I start writing here, I assume that by default, no one's really bothered about the things they read online. It does not belong to the realm of the real world. Either people are just browsing, or they like the way I say things or whatever. Of course, there are (very) few exceptions to this.

So the deeper question I always need answering really is "Do you have ME in your heart?' Do you really care? There have been many friends in my life, with which I have silently retreated from, or quietly fade away from, not because they did a wrong to me, but simply because, after a while, I realized...... that they never really cared. At least, not in the way that I did for them, and it broke my heart. I can't do the whole 'friends with everybody' thing. I don't know how anyone ever has a couple of hundred friends. Being friendly with everyone isn't the same as being friends with everyone.

I want to be your friend, and I really want you as my friend, if I know you care. But the ones you thought cared sometimes never really do, and the ones you didn't know care, you took for granted That's why it's so darn hard to find true friends. I'm very cynical of friends because I've seen the self serving, selfish ways of people. They do everything friends normally do, go out for drinks, late night chats, activities, movies etc.. but every once in a while, a moment of truth comes along, and then you see it. You see just how much of a friend they really are. Those moment of truths usually come in times of desperation, or need, emotional or physical .....whenever the going gets tough, at your greatest time of need, you will see it. No doubt, people can't be there to help you all the time. Some things in life, even friends can't help you with. But a friend, who has you in their heart, will demonstrate their love and care for you in whatever means they are able to, ESPECIALLY in those times. A simple phone call, a ride home, a much needed pair of hands, emergency money... whatever. Nothing can ever be too big, or too small a gesture to show that you do care. To me, that's a friend. Someone who genuinely cares for you in a very real and sincere way... plain and simple.

I don't know about other people.. but for me, when times get rough, and I feel I need a friend, what I really want and need, isn't your help, or your money, or your ideas, or anything... just your heart, and maybe your ear. Just to know that you care what's going on with me, and what's happening to me, and that you would in the goodness of your heart, do whatever within your means to be there for me. That's enough. That's all I ever need from a friend. They don't have to have the same interest as me, they don't have to be same age, the don't have to of the same background, race, country, hobbies, neighborhood, school, class, or whatever else friends usually use as a platform to their friendship.

I know sometimes, you have to take the first step... It's true that you have to first be a friend before you gain a friend. That means you have to start caring for others first, without knowing for sure if it will ever be reciprocated. But that's a risk we all have to take at some point. A risk even I ever want to stop taking. I might be a cynic.. but I'm a reluctant one.


I want to be wrong about people and friends.
I want to believe that friendships aren't always just superficial.
I want to believe that when I care for a friend, they do care for me too..

No inspiration : Just Crap

"I'm going out for a drive. I need some time to think"

A text message. I thought I'd be considerate, despite us fighting, despite me being so pissed off.

"Don't bother coming back...."

came the stinging reply.

I started the engine, and drove. Where to? God knows. I didn't have anywhere to go, or anyone to see. I needed time; to think, to calm down, to soothe. One hand at the steering, the other against my head. My usual pose while thinking, or stressed, or both. Ouch... the bump still hurt a bit. Got kicked in the face while swimming. Bloody hell, I thought swimming was supposed to be a safe non contact hobby. Chances of drowning to death was so much higher than getting kicked, but I got kicked instead.

"I feel like you don't really accept them..."

"I did the same thing for you, and now you won't for me...."

"Do you really consider them your family also?"

"Sometimes, I really wonder if you meant the things you say...." 

It hurt.... not the bump. My heart. It always hurts, when you love is being questioned, what more by the one you love MOST. It hurt like hell. I turn the radio up, loud, noisy songs. I need something to drown out the hurt.

"Why do you keep quiet?"

"When I keep quiet, it's wrong, but when YOU keep quiet, it's supposed to be OK?"

"Don't you have something to say? Or maybe you're thinking what a bitch I am is it?"

Don't you see? Don't you know? I keep quiet because I care about what I say to you. I keep quiet, because I love you too much to hurt you with careless, thoughtless words...... the kind you are hurting me with right now. I could say something, I could fight back, and I could probably out talk you, and WIN. But I don't. Because I'm not trying to win. I'm trying to put away my pride. I'm trying to put my hurt aside and focus on what you told me, and what I need to do to make things right.

"You know how much I hate being late."

"You always have an excuse. It's not like you don't know how important these things are to me"

"You always make things seem like it's always my fault. You're never wrong."

More of the words came flooding in.. So much so that my mind is numb. I can't think straight. Maybe I need someone to talk to. Lets see.. I can call......... Hmmmph.. NO ONE.........FUCK. I HAVE NO FRIENDS. There is no one. Do you have a friend that you can call, in moments of anger, of joy or whatever? The kind of person you can call, not to tell something, or to arrange something, but just someone to share your emotions at the time. The kind where you go "You know what happened today? I.....yada yada yada....." so and so forth......Well, I sure as hell don't. I drive around aimlessly through the streets. Turning every other corner I've never taken before. Waiting at red traffic lights, just counting down the timers, waiting for the green light. It helps, in some funny way.

"You always make me feel so stupid."  

"You made me try so hard, and yet you hardly try yourself"

I drive into a dark corner. There are a dozen Mat Rempits, doing all sorts of stunts. They look my way, wondering what's this guy in office cloths doing here, in the middle of the night. I start to wonder if they would try to bother me, or even rob me. I drive by anyway, not looking their way. "I'll run down every one of you fuckers if I have to." I think. Tough talk..... for a guy who immediately locks the door after seeing them.

"Can you THINK about what you are saying. Do you think its FAIR what you just said?"

"You're just picking on me because you're upset... and I'm easy target."

I'm tired. A crappy long day, topped with a whole lot of shit on the way home. Shouting at the top of your lungs tend to make you tired. I knew I should have just continued being quiet. I quickly drive off and stop in from of a 7 Eleven, watching people come in and out. I lower the seat, close my eyes to rest. More like self soothe really. The CD was repeating itself for the 3rd time. 2 hours of aimlessly driving around. At least I'm claiming for petrol at work.

"He's been here TWO BLOODY WEEKS"

"He disappears for years and shows up out of the blue, and now I'M THE ONE CAUSING THE PROBLEMS?"


Maybe I need a coffee... and an internet connection. Maybe I'll feel better typing it all out. I drive to the nearest Old Town Coffee.. but get hushed away. "Last order is at 12am boss.. sorry. " the fella tells me. I thought these buggers open till 3am? Damn it, EVEN THE COFFEE PEOPLE DON'T WANT TO SEE ME. I drive around some more. So many people still out having teh tarik, chatting away happily. "Don't all these damn people have jobs to go to in the morning? Look at them sitting around chatting the night away, with their stupid grins and lame jokes...".......All rhetoric. Truth was, I'd give anything to be one sitting there pouring my heart out to someone

What happened to all that talk about problems being easier to deal with if you stand by each other? You aren't supposed to turn on someone who's on your side. I'm not the one your really upset about, I'm not the one giving you this heartache, but I AM the one putting up with all this shit. 

"You ask me to just say what I have to say, and then you can't take it."

"This is why I SHUT THE HELL UP. "

I turn into the car park. A cats sits in the middle of the road, refusing to get out out of my way. I hate these cats. I inch straight away. No way in hell I was going to navigate around the stupid feline. For a brief moment I thought of flooring the pedals and squashing the bloody cat. But there were people around.... and I just washed the car. The cat just takes a cool few steps to the side, and I pass through.... "Chicken shit la you, even the cat doesn't respect you...." I whisper to myself.

Round and round I circle the car park. It's full. It's almost 2am. Everyone's home sleeping.... except me. Me and my lonely, hurting heart. Isn't there a reason we use stickers and pass keys? How can it be full when I'M not parked yet? Isn't there an equal amount of stickers to the number of spaces? I circle the place like ten times. What's a few more rounds anyway? After all, I've been out for hours...... "I'M NOT PARKED, BUT THE PLACE IS FULL. I HAVE A FUCKING STICKER YOU PIECE OF SHIT. GO DO YOUR FUCKING MATH!!!!" I curse under my breath..... from the safety of my car. Told you I was chicken shit.

I just park at one corner, and send out an open challenge to the management, or the universe, or God, or whoever hells listening "Clamp my car if you dare!! Come on! CLAMP IT! I can take this shit." One last defiant curse into the night... and I'm done. Too tired even be angry.

I close my eyes, listening to Robbie Williams singing Sexed up.. Funny Robbie.. very funny.... I was just thinking the same thing.










More Free Music at MP3-Codes.com

Never raise your hands against a woman....... Never.....

More Free Music at MP3-Codes.com

Written by babyface, stevie wonder (1997)

There was a girl I used to know

She was oh so beautiful

But shes' not here anymore

She had a college degree

Smart as anyone could be

She had so much to live for

But she fell in love

With the wrong kinda man

He abused her love and treated her so bad

There was not enough education in her world

That could save the life of this little girl

How come, how long

Its not right, its so wrong

Do we let it just go on?

Turn our backs and carry on

Wake up, for its too late

Right now, we cant wait

She wont have a second try

Open up your hearts

As well as your eyes

She tried to give a cry for help

She even blamed things on herself

But no one came to her aid

Nothing was wrong as far as we could tell

Thats what we'd like to tell ourselves

But no, it wasnt that way

So she fell in love

With the wrong kinda man

And she paid with her life

For loving that man

So we cannot ignore

We must look for the signs

And maybe next time

We might save somebodys life

Hook

I on occasion met that guy

He stirred up bad feelings deep inside

Something about him wasnt right

The way he proves himself a man

By beatin his woman with his hands

Oh I wish shed seen the light

How can someone like that

Call himself a man

In reality he's far more less than that

And we cannot ignore

Whenever we see the signs

cause any kinda of abuse

God knows isnt right

******************************************************

Never raise your hands against a woman....... Never......

Love & Thanks....

"So have you eaten dinner?" I ask awkwardly.

“Yes, yes, I cooked some noodles… thank you, thank you” came the reply.

Almost a week into him staying here. He still seems to thank me profusely for every small little thing.

I was told I was hanging around in my room too much, being anti-social. I was told I was not opening up and not letting him the chance to communicate with me. I was told to make an effort to warm up to this old man… for her sake. Yes, I could do that, but only for her sake. She was the one of those very few people who could ask things of me, and get a yes… purely because it was them asking and not someone else, purely because it was for their sake.

And so I tried. Tired as I was, exhausted as I was, I stayed, and made an effort to talk to this old man. I’d rather just go back into the room, lost again in my own thoughts, reading, reflecting, and writing. But I did say I will try.

“There’s some tea I bought when I was overseas, go ahead and try it if you want. No one else drinks it” I try again. That was it; that was the best I could muster. Damn it, I'm offering him my freaking special tea you don't easily find around Malaysia, surely that meant something right? :-S

“Oh.. yes, yes, thank you very much.” came the same reply.

I gave up. This wasn’t going to work just like that. I knew what I needed. I needed time. Time to smoothen the edges, time to take away the awkwardness… but really, just time to come to terms with one another and learn how to be comfortable.

“I’ll be in the room, just let me know if you need anything OK.” I was just about to put an end to my feeble attempt when he came up to me.

He walked up to me and put his hand on my shoulder. The first time I’ve ever had physical contact with him. Physical contact: always an important barrier to break when trying to establish closeness with someone. I always crave the human touch, especially with people who matter to me, especially with people I want to be close to. It was he who made the effort to break it, not me. A point I didn’t fail to note.

He calls me by my name…. (I won’t write it here of course) A persons name: something that is very intimate and personal. I care about what people call me. At work, I’m Mr. XXX. Or just XXX. Friends call me by my personal name. Family, and close friends, naturally start calling me shorter forms of my name after a while. It always feels more personal, more intimate. Subconsciously, everyone loves being called by their name, and I am no exception, especially by people who matter, especially in a tone and manner that is loving. It’s the first time he addresses me by my personal name. First time we met, he called me by my surname. Again, a point I didn’t fail to note.

I turn and look at him. He just made 2 important gestures (touching and calling me by name).... I wasn't quite sure what to expect. What did he want to say? What's he trying to do? It almost felt like I was being.........defensive.

“Thank you…...... thank you....for all that you have done all these years.” he tells me.

“eeeeerr......I haven’t done anything…” I reply, looking into his eyes and shaking my head. Truth be told I was completely taken aback.

“No, you have done a lot. My son told me some of the things you have done for my them. Thank you for taking care of them all these years.”

“………………It’s okay. I haven’t done much really. You should be proud of your children. Your son is a fine young man, with a good head on his shoulders. And your daughter is a very brave, and very loving woman. Despite all that has happened, they both turned out fine.”

He nods his head. Maybe he was as speechless as I was.

I have no idea where the hell that little speech came from. But I didn’t know what else to say. This was the last thing I’d expect him to say directly TO ME.

A meek smile and a pat on the back later, I quickly scurry off and was safe and secure, back in my own room.

Pheeeww..... Damn.. that was awkward. One of them male intimate moments again?

“What just happened?” I asked myself. Did he just thank me? Why is he thanking me? Did I say the right thing? Shit, it might have sounded so patronizing. I was too caught off guard to give a decent response. What the hell was I SUPPOSED to say anyway?

I don’t know what he thinks I have done for his children. I don’t know what sort of savior he thinks I am. I certainly don’t feel like one. And I certainly can’t recall any valiant deeds I have done for her OR her brother. Was it his guilt conscience more than my actual contributions? Do I deserve thanks from this man? He was the older one, and I the younger one. The man's almost triple my age, shouldn't I be the one making first contact, building bridges and being humble? .

I dunno. I need to think about it.

But I knew one thing about myself. I brushed the thanks off in such a nonchalant way, as if it was some small petty issue. Pfft... typical Asian behaviour I guess, always rejecting thanks & praise. But deep in my heart, it mattered. It mattered that he came up to me and said thank you. Not that I feel I deserve a pat in the back, or that this guy owes me big time. But the fact that he appreciated whatever it is he thinks I have done for his family, and bothered to make the effort to say thank you. You have no idea how powerful a simple gesture of love and thanks can be. A simple pat on the shoulder, a loving hug, a gently whispered thank you, it makes you feel appreciated. It makes you feel useful to someone other than your self, like your existence does matter to other people. Not to an organization, not to an establishment, but to a genuine person, who now acknowledges that you made an important difference in their life.

I felt good. It felt good to be thanked, especially when that thanks was not sought after nor even expected. I can count with one hand the number of times I have been sincerely thank like this. The last time was in an email I received, which pretty much made my week. Don't ask me what I did back then, because frankly, I have no idea. But it remains one of the single most cherished emails I have ever received.

This was a lot more awkward, and less sweet to the taste buds, but no less overwhelming. The next time I was on the phone with her, I told the story to her.

"Your dad... he..... he thanked me.." I stuttered.

"REALLY? What did he say?"

I know it got her attention. She had not expected this either. They were proud people. It was in their blood. sharp minds, strong character and deep sense of pride. She was her fathers daughter, and in many ways, I think she understood more than I did how hard it is for them to come humbly before another person... what more a person a third your age.

"Nothing much la.... just something about taking care of you & your brother all these years. Says your brother talked to him. I duno what he's been telling your dad... but he's under the impression that I did some super thingy." I said with a weak laugh. Again, I keep trying to downplay the whole episode.

You know how sometimes you can hear a smile through the phone? No eyes needed? Well, I think she was smiling.

"I think he appreciates what you did. I also told him some the things that we've been through all these years he's been missing." she replies.

"Gosh............ emmmm. Alright. Well, I'll tell you more later okies. Bye."

"A'rite, bye."

Sincere and genuine thanks are so hard to come by these days... I'm always on cloud nine when I receive them. Say your thank you's people. And mean it. Not the 'oh, by the way, thanks ar...' kinda thing... but a deliberate, intentional, purposeful one. The more specific the better. It's a little effort on your part, but it goes a long way. Take it from someone who knows how it feels like on the receiving end. We (or rather I) will never admit it, but it makes every hardship, every challenge, and every other pieces of sh*t life throws at you not necessarily easier to deal with but definitely more worth while to endure.

Why do we struggle through life, trying to make ends meet, trying to make things right, if not for the love of the people we care for? And what greater reward is there in life than knowing that the things you do out of this love, have not gone unnoticed, but fully acknowledged by the persons involved?

Do you believe in Karma? I was told by someone once that whenever the universe presents something to you, never forget to say Love and Thanks. When you forget to give back love and thanks, you have taken something away from the universe and not given back in return.... and things DO have a way of coming full circle. I don't know if things always come full circle in life. Bad things have happened to good men, and good things to bad men. But I do believe in the power of being loving (to everyone we encounter in life), and giving thanks for all the big or small, significant or tiny things that we received in our life.

Gosh.... I think I need to start making a thank you list. God knows, I owe a lot of thanks to so many who have helped me in my life.

Peace be with you (Good riddance)

“The next time you plan to see him, bring me along. I will give him a piece of my mind. Let him repeat those words again in front of me….”

I was pissed. He usually gets taken aback every time I start talking in such a forceful nature. I rarely feel strongly about things, and rarely in such a note. I’m easy going most of the time. But some things are close to my heart, and none so more than this. None so more than the welfare of my mother.

“No la, they mean well….They are thinking of her welfare.”

They MEAN WELL? Some of the worst deeds every done were with the BEST intentions.

“I don’t like them planting ideas into her head. HELLO, I DON’T NEED YOU TO TELL ME HOW TO TAKE CARE OF MY MOTHER. I know it’s my pride talking, I know it may sound arrogant. But I don’t like it when people give suggestions just like that without first understanding first what we have been through ALREADY. So simple and easy and idea. Do they really think we haven’t tried that already? Do they really think we are THAT naïve and silly to not have thought of that by now. Didn’t you explain to them that we already tried living together with her AT LEAST THREE TIMES? And the last time, SHE NEARLY DIED?! Show them the scar on her skull.”

Silence……..

“We don’t need their money. We took up this responsibility long before they ever came into the picture, and we will still be doing in long after they are gone. If you want to help, HELP. Don’t try putting strings on it. I don’t need your approval on how best to care for my mother. Take your benevolent fund money and bring it somewhere else, to someone who needs it more. I’m sure there’s an orphanage somewhere, or an old folks home that need that money more than us. Go do it and feel good about yourself.”

“It’s not about the money. They just want to know what we plan to do before considering renewing their funding.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just pissed. I can chip in more if you are too burdened… But I’m not going to go up to them, pleading and justifying why we need the money.”

“He’s just trying to ask for some supporting justification. I don’t think it’s his call. It’s part of their benevolent fund committee to decide.”

“Isn’t he the HEAD of the committee? Committees don’t make decision brother, PEOPLE DO. PEOPLE MAKE DECISIONS. If HE goes before the committee and vouch that we DO need the fund, isn’t that justification enough? Committees are the thing people HIDE BEHIND when they don’t dare to make a decision and stand by it."

More silence.

“It’s easy for them to just say take her out of the home, rent a bigger house and all of us stay together. Haven’t we already done, the first time being 10 years ago? You remember that? We DID try. And she tried to commit suicide by swallowing all the tablets. I HAD TO BRING HER TO THE HOSPITAL, IN MY SCHOOL UNIFORM IN A TAXI I BARELY HAD ENOUGH MONEY TO PAY FOR. Does HE KNOW THAT?”

“Sigh… I know I know.”

“You know, but do they? Anyway, just let me know when OK. We’ll tell them the whole story together. I want to see if he dares say the same thing to me again. Talk to you later. Bye.”

“OK. Bye.”

****************************

I know I’m disillusioned. I know I’ve lost my faith. Not in God, but in man. Men supposedly calling themselves men of God. People who go to church every Sunday, worship, pray, set up organizations and trying to help others in the name of God… They set up committees, they set up procedures, the set up trust funds, big, influential, rich. Somewhere along the way, they seem to have lost their soul.

They give thoughtless suggestions and ideas.. planting ideas to my mother behind my back, ignorant to just how dangerous those ideas can become. No insight into the present. No foresight to the future.

Where have you been oh church?

Where was the church when my mother became ill? Where were you when my father, a former associate pastor at the church needed support the most? Did you not shun him the minute you knew he had problems with his wife, deeming him UNFIT to lead other brother and sisters in Christ? How quickly you turn your backs! Where were you when my mother lived for years alone up north, with no job, no money, no protection, no friends, no help? Where you the ones who sent food to her every day out of kindness? It wasn’t. It was people from the nearby Buddhist temple. What have you given beyond lip service? Where were you when my mother was lost for months, after running away with nothing but the cloths behind her back and with empty pockets? Where you there with me, when I ran the streets of pudu raya, desperately trying to find her before it was too late? Where you there when we had to tie her down in the car with tears in our eyes and drive her 300 miles to KL, and hospitalize her? Where were you when we, as STUDENTS, used money meant for food and tuition fees to pay for her medication, not knowing if we will ever have enough? Where were you when I was lost, when I needed support through it all?

Where were you oh people of the church?

You think you understand, you think you know, you think you’re doing your part. You come when the weather is good, but disappear when it starts to rain. And now, when the weather is good, and we have our feet on the ground, somewhat stable, you try to tell me what to do, and what is best for her. You try to tell me you know better. You try to tell me that unless you agree with what I plan for her, you will not spare a cent. Where were you when it was darkest before dawn? Where were you when I cried out in fear, helplessness and desperation? Oh, that’s right…. Sunday evenings are cell group meetings and you were busy… and you DIDN’T KNOW.

If I do as you suggest, will you jointly take responsibility? Will you be there with me when I am running around in Pudu Raya searching for her? Are you going to travel 300 miles with me to retrieve her from some hospital if she gets run down by a lorry AGAIN? Will you stand by my side as I force her into the car and drive her to the hospital in event of a relapse? Will you put your hand on my shoulder and comfort me if God forbid, something happens to her? Will you? You won’t because you think you did your part by giving me your advice and your money. Your benevolent money…… How great of you.

Take your money and go elsewhere. Walk away and satisfy your ego and convince yourself that these ‘boys’ are selfish, that they don’t really have their mothers interest at heart; that they rather just keep her in a nursing home for their own convenience. These boys are hopeless. You’ve done what you can. You tried to help, but they refused your help. Go pray that God will send someone else to help. Go pray that God will change our stone cold hearts. Whatever makes you sleep better at night….

This is my struggle, not yours. I was facing this long before you came along. I will still be here, by her side, long after you have gone, still struggling. Thank you for all your help. I AM grateful for what you have done. Really, I am. But I don't need your help. You think you're doing Gods work. You think you carry His mandate. And who am I to challenge you? An unbaptized, unfaithful so called Christian who neither prays, nor go to Church nor do any Good Works. But God is my witness. I don't need to prove to you where my heart lies. He will provide for me, as He has done so far. Even if He forsakes me, and I burn in eternal hell for my transgressions, He will still take care of my mother, with or without your benevolent money.

If this is how you are going to be, I will ask no more from you. I never did in the first place.

Peace be with you.... but good riddance.