Sensitive Issues?

Had a discussion yesterday with someone who believes in the energy force as a palpable thing.

An object that is worshipped, it is believed, will be infused with such high energy levels that birds or planes are not able to fly above it. Pilots are said to alter its course upon reaching the mentioned area because all are aware of the fact that the force field cannot be penetrated.

My mind was filled with questions. If that was true, what keeps the energy force field expanding vertically... but not horizontally, where its worshippers crowd? So the inanimate object gains self-consciousness to direct an amazing force field that extends for miles above it to the height where planes fly.

Another friend advised, "Don't question people's beliefs. Sensitive issue"

Must it be?

Makan Once More

I was sick yesterday, fever on my birthday, so it sure didn't feel like a birthday at all. Decided to rest for most of the day - and was far from the hyperactive person I have been known to be. Sue Anne called from UK, which was really touching since I actually didn't expect her to remember with all her work and all...

My birthday dinner was scheduled as a belated one because I had prior plans yesterday (which I couldn't attend because of the above). It was dinner at Orchid Thai Restaurant thanks to Mummy. The setting wasn't much to shout about but the food did live up to expectations.

One of the signature dishes. Most dishes seemed to taste of curry powder... which is quite odd, since Thais are known for their tom-yam flavour. If I wanted curry, I'd have gone to an Indian restaurant. But it was the fish that saved the day, with its unique gravy that made me eat more than my usual amount of rice.

The dessert was cool.

Darn... it really doesn't look all that nice here, quite gross.

Eat like that sure become graduate from fei-poh to super-fei-poh. Tomorrow promise go jogging already. Cannot reach 45 minutes, 20 minutes pun jadilah. Hehehe... been a super long time since I ran anyway. About time la to start exercising to stop falling sick so much.

Strawberries

On my right, two mothers were discussing the merits of Pampers vs Mummy Poko.

On my far left, a Vietnamese woman was sitting with her two children - a young boy of about 5 and an infant sleeping in her arms. The boy was holding a shopping bag containing a small pack of baby diapers because she couldn't afford the value packs.

A young lady takes a seat beside the Vietnamese mother. The boy looks longingly into her shopping bag. Noticing him, the young lady pulls out the packet of huge strawberries from the bag. Suddenly shy, the boy hides behind his mother.

The young lady tears the pack open and offers him the largest juiciest strawberry.

The boy learnt two new words that day: Thank You.

The young lady said that she learnt that Vietnamese children have smiles of sunshine.

It was 2:45 a.m. at Batu Tiga toll plaza

The girl who drops by regularly, who quietly asked me for assurance before having a tumor in her breast removed, who actually shares lame jokes... she is...

On the front page of Malay Mail were the details of the call that Kelvin received last night. Rashween is really gone. Jagdeep is still in Intensive Care Unit, in coma.

Jagdeep has always been the butt of all jokes at MGS Taekwondo. We called him black, we called him Singh, we called him long pole... and he laughs along. When my brother Kelvin fell into a manhole, Jagdeep did not hesitate to jump in so that his friend would not have to be alone down there. It didn't really occur to him to shout for help first but yeah, Jagdeep's like that.

Pray for his physical recovery and later for mental strength so he can accept his girlfriend's passing. Yes, he was the driver. All three passengers died.

And friends, don't speed.

Mummy, Why?

Why must our relationship be like that? Why can it not be like it was before? Why are you drifting away from the family?

Seriously, my mother, I don't know.

Maybe it's because when I come home and you're watching the TV... and I say hi and you don't, I think you don't want to talk about anything. But you're actually just too tired.

Maybe when I tell you about the prospective universities, you tell me to discuss about it later... I feel that you are too tired to discuss about heavy issues. But you're actually just concerned that I haven't eaten.

Maybe when I gather the courage to ask Pa out for ping pong and he shakes his head, I take it that he has given up on me. But he's actually genuinely too tired to play.

Maybe when I ask for guidance and advice, you give me none, you sigh and tell me to handle it in any way I see fit and when I want to battle my own monsters, you step in too hard.

Maybe we see the drift in relationship and you always ask me WHY HAVE I CHANGED? Could it be how have WE changed?

Or could it be nothing at all? Over the years, taboo issues crop up. Things like I know you don't like practical jokes, so when someone plays one (and even if I'm not involved), I don't tell you. It is a emotional landmine. The mines just increased until there's not many safe spots to thread on anymore. So we talk less and less and the number of common interests dwindles and dies.

In a home when an adult child does not feel at home, coming home for dinner is just that. Coming home and eating dinner. It's an obligation... a little effort against hope that this little gesture is better than no gesture at all.

At the end of the day, it is all pointless, isn't it?

So why do we even bother trying?

If Only

I reach home at eight and my parents are watching TV.

"Have you eaten?" Pa asks, no scolding, no questions. Ma doesn't turn.

"Nope." I walk to the back, feeling guilty that I wasn't back in time for dinner with them, wishing that I had taken the train instead of waiting for my friend whose lecture ended late.

I stop. Three out of the four dishes in the kitchen are my favourites. Mum knew I was coming home today and made the effort. An effort that I should have at least matched.

I wish I had the guts to walk to the hall and tell them that I love them.