Little Bundles of Joy

all of us cried over little things in life, be it that final score that brought us to the door of university, or the cry of joy when our child is getting married, or that little note of appreciation when the little boy from the tuition class has scribbled.

we do shed a little tear of joy once in a while, and there is this little shimmering hope in us that keep us moving and scaling higher pinnacles in life.

saturday. i cried. not because i am sad, but because i was looking at a friend i dearly loved walking out of the house in her wedding dress, laughing like an angel and beeming like a siren. i was fortunate to accompany her in her journey to a new phase in her life. with my chest swelling with pride and joy as i was by her side all along for the preparation of her entire wedding, i mumbled a silent prayer for her that the day will turned out to be a perfect one.

"you are such a lively girl and one hell of a mischievous joker. all weddings will be filled with laughters with you around." she said.

i smiled demurely and already a new prank has conjured at the back of my mind for the dinner that night.

the flunency of the moonlight in the late evening was our accomplice, and the sound of the waves from the sea was the mystical hymn that showered blessings onto the newly wed.

i was cracking silly jokes and gazing at the guests streaming in and out of the wedding venue with several other rapturous nymphs at the reception table. throughout the evening, the overzealous photographers and several others kept taking pictures of us at the table. for a brief moment, we felt like celebrities.

someone from denmark commented that i spoke like a diplomat. well, thank you gentleman, but i am more than a diplomat. that is, of course, for you to discover.

the flower bouquet tossing by the bride heaved a sea of wows and ahs from the guests. needless to say, to make a story whole and an ending happy, i was the chosen one to catch the flying mass of erotic and weird looking scrubs.

"you will be the next bride and within three years, it will materialise." she winked at me playfully, while we were strolling back to the hotel for a final touch up.

raw sugar, fresh lime and whisky, i was reeling from that forty percent content of alcohol flown in by the groom's family. i thought such hydroxyl is meant only for the torching of the cauldron during the olympic games, but the rest of the world seemed to be gulping them down like plain water with delight.

the smell of the hibiscus in the surroundings captivated us. i am amazed at how far our friendship has taken off since that fateful day at the beach, drifting in and out of emails, a ring once in a blue moon and not seeing each other for months due to the vast distance between us.

very soon again, she would be going away again for a long long time, but i am confident that this bond would never break, not like the other one.

i feel a great sense of pride and happiness for her. it is remarkable that she did not know she has gone through such a long journey in life to be where she is now. i am happy to be that one friend who has once walked with her during the most important part of her life.

weeks from now, i can only be the one looking from far away at her but i am contented. because from where i stand, i can see how much further she can scale and where she has gone.

Life is a box of Chocolates

i am seeing things. i see people whom i am not suppose to see, not that i do not wish to but he should not be encapsulated in the same space between as me this point of time, but eventually he turns out to be not whom i thought i saw but the startling resemblance of whom i wish to see.

well, that rhymes.

life is such a huge amusing soap opera and the tormenting realisation is that you find out that halfway through the journey, it is one great korean soap opera unfolding in front of you.

you wake up in the morning and discovered that you have not gone too far from the starting point, and instead more unexpected events are waiting for you ahead, surprising but delightful. it peels off layer and layer inside you till you are stripped bare naked, exposing the most vulnerable and veracious core that have been hiding for long time and it left you bare and breathless.

yep, burnout can still be exciting.

this morning, i made a mistake by having breakfast with someone who has been ogling at my breasts throughout the entire meal. if not for my strict upbringing, i would have shoved that spoon up his nostrils.

now, curiosity sets in and i just wonder when can i steal glances of him again. and my delicate little fingers have started to itch again. maybe in the next few weeks, you will get a whole new blogging experience.

just remember to tune in everyday for the latest update. same time, same place.

i see you then. goodnight.

The Child in Us

i am bewitched.

it was so huge and lovely. the moon on the lunar fifteen never failed to enamor me since i was six. so bright and shinning like an enormous fat steaming pancake, i wanted to smash a hole through it using a catapult, so that my overly curious bright eyes could peep over it to see what was hiding behind that celestial mass.

sometimes i wondered, would my friends on the other side of the equator be gazing at the same moon, this lifetime, this moment with me? that our heads all tilted up at the same time, looking up into the beautiful starstudded midnight blue sky, wondering how each other was doing now, that we wished we could be gazing up at the same moon, side by side, this timeless moment.

i closed my eyes and took in a deep breathe. the late evening air smelled of dew and garland scent. the grasshoppers and crickets were strumming an autume orchestra for this festive occasion. we lighted up the whole place with colorful lanterns and candles at every corners we could find. he lighted a sparkler, reminiscing the old days when we were little kids, running and flunging each other onto the ground.

a friend from long ago joined us on this occasion. we talked like we always did since thirteen, fantasizing about the future, how far we would have gone from here, what aspects we could have better forseen for the future.

we found the little joys in life, just like we found ennui is the restless tapping of the foot on the ground, and a day sun tanning at the beach could leave us going home fresh and smelling like a rich chocolate fordue. and that the excruciation of emotions were all but little excitements to stimulate the essence of monotonous life.

we illuminated the area with more sparklers which burned and sparkled like the diamonds in the sky, beholding the tiny stars in our hands, watching it as the flame faded to a tiny glow, like the tiny hopes each of us been harboring about something we wanted so much in life, and wished that the fading glow be again rekindled into its once glorious life.

and when we have fallen along the way, we wished we could scream out loud to the ocean, and let the waves washed away all the pains. or named a stone of every single person we have cried over, and threw it into the sea and let the sorrows sank to the bottom of the seabed and never be found again. and that life was a huge soap opera, that we woke up the next morning to find everything was in place again, that the rainbow has arrived and the raging storm was over.

"how time flies." she said.

yes it did, my dear. it always did.

Monsters

Has no one told you she's not breathing ?

Don't try to fix me
I'm not broken
Hello, I'm the lie living for you so you can hide
hello, evanescence

it is late. she stirred slightly and stopped, like a struggling fish being pulled out of the water and flapping on the dry ground every few moment. the empty whisky bottle sitting awkwardly on the table. the spasms of choking came another time. and another. she tightened her iron grips on the arms and bodies supporting her, pulling them closer and sucking in every single ounce of strength streaming from the limbs for solace. the woman cried out in pain. i flinched slightly from the same pain. never under estimate a well trained golfer's grip. i distangled her lifeless form from the two of us. she struggled vigorously.

the monsters were out tonight, they were back with a vehemence, whispering among themselves, scheming a new plan to rip her apart this moment.

she wake up suddenly, clutching her chest and gulping for air. then, as though you were imagining it, she stopped suddenly and collapsed onto us again. whining softly.

do you still love me? can you hold me like you used to do before? please?

the monsters were whispering again.

she leaned forward. a moan escaped through her trembling lips. floods of sorrows poured out of her thin lips, the residues of what was left of yesterday, the love that was forever gone and never be found again, whose imprints left deep scars in her life reminding her every moment of the loss. the confident and dynamic career woman i know was gone. what i saw now was a little helpless girl clutching her teddies and crying for help.

a monster reached out and tried to pull her into the abyss. i fought back and shooed him away.

bastard. i cursed under my breathe. several customers inside the bar looked over at the rumpus. the man behind the bar counter gazed over lazily before turning back to serve his grouchy customer who was complaining about the glass of brandy he was holding. the phantom shadows of the fans and the lights on the walls were playing hide and seek the whole night, casting strange irregular motif on the walls.

she stirred again, then gulped for more air, her chest rising and falling too rapidly, too rapidly that alarms were ringing in my head. the next wave of tears came, then she fumbled vigorously into her clutch bag for her acupuncture needles. the woman beside was stunned beyond words. she started kicking and wailing. "shoo shoo, time to go home honey, shooo." her golfer grip held onto me tightly, her nails scratched and bite into those tender flesh. i looked on enduring the pain. a few more friends came to the rescue.

the monsters were laughing. they got her tonight.

after few hours of endless struggle, arms and hands supporting, she was finally placed into the car. the men cried out in pain as her nails bite into their flesh. i pulled her away. the ride home was a nightmare. it was a one man show. no! as she tried to open the car door halfway onto the road as we were trying to speed her home. i was trying to pin her down through the whole journey.

it was near dawn when i reached home finally. i heaved a sigh. the clock on the wall struck a three o'clock. the cat outside was looking at me curiously. shoo kitty, go and sleep, shoo. i tiptoed into the room and took off those soiled cloths. the residues and smell of a love that has left and the pain of another weeping soul. there seemed to be too many broken souls around me recently. i thought my reaction to heartbreak was bad, till i saw her reactions tonight.

i looked at my arms. seven long reddish scratches and a few faint bruises on my body. faint tinges of blood were already oozing out of the long marks.

i closed my eyes. if i could take away some of her pain, let her do it again.

More than Words

i closed my eyes.

"i am so glad you called." and the pent up emotions came in torrents. from torrents to words to that shaky voice that trembled into a feeble whisper in his ears.

i can imagine him frowning, his eyebrowns furrowing deeper into his forehead, searching for the right words in this silent moment to fill up the void. i can hear him breathing in deeply from the other end. i chuckled weakly and teased him about his latest hunt. we laughed a little, gave some encouragement to each other before cutting off the line.

elevan years of friends. so little words, so much is exchanged. the closest of all the close male friends i have, this is as good as it gets. i heaved a soft sigh.

clutching the phone close to my chest, just one more time, let me bring along those words close to my heart when i tuck into those lonely quilts tonight.

halcyon and laughter

When owls call the breathless moon
In the blue veil of the night
The shadows of the trees appear
Amidst the lantern light

We've been rambling all the night
And some time of this day
Now returning back again
We bring a garland gay

the murmurs' dance, loreena mckennitt

women should not congregate. how cynical that is.

today i have participated in the most glorious congregation volitionally i have ever been in for ages. one beeming virgo, one charismatic capricorn followed by an aspiring pisces, we are the most beautiful reunion since the birth of hera. yes baby, thunder does not struck. venom is not exchanged. and definately no abuse of any little frisky animals.

glowing in the company of two stunning, independent and intelligent women, i chuckled heartedly after such a long time, my laughters echoing the whole house whose unfamiliar sound i have long forgotten.

we engaged in topics only marxists will favor. we are tearing inside out over the atrocious ideas the home and bridal designers have come up with to mulct the brides-to-be using that once in a lifetime excuse. it gets so mad that we are almost rolling on the floor.

there is an air of love and happiness in the room, so thick and puffy that you can punctured tiny holes in it with your little fingers to smile and wink at the impish pixies hiding behind those masses to steal little glances at the ruckus going on in the room. butterflies are hovering above the violets outside the windows peeping at the privy fete and wish that they can join in the fun too. the monsters are kept at bay today. even the mices have come out to play.

it feels like those halcyon days again, when i was a little girl with two ponytails and a freshly plucked frangipani tucked behind one ear, humming softly to myself, swinging myself high on the swing to feel the sunny afternoon breeze warm on my cheeks. and if i concentrated hard enough, with my eyes closed, i can feel myself soaring with the doves as i kicked myself higher into the air.

gone are the days when i was a little scalawag, longing for me to grow up fast. those golden years came and gone all too fleetingly. i am welcomed into the grown up world to coffee, hard concrete, cold city and harsh humanity.

this moment, as i gazed tenderly at a dear friend who looks nothing less than a faerie nymph being exclusively taken out from a fabled tale and inebriated into my life, we look at each other and smile. how far we have taken off since that day at redang when she initiated the first hi.

many years from now, we will still share many moments like this, leaning on each other for support, skipping around with happiness when something great has happened to the other. promising each other to fly over when she gives birth to the first child and when i wed in the future.

we will both grow old together. we will have many beautiful babies. we will laugh at each other's bloated stomach outside the gynae's waiting room, bring our children to the coffee cafe for afternoon tea and explain to them the difference between earl grey and chai. when we are old with grey hair, we will help each other dye our hair and look for our lost dentures. we will hold onto each other and stroll to the playground to watch our bawling grandchildren laughing on the merrie-go-round. or maybe, just maybe, still sun tanning in our bikinis under the morning sun.

and most important of all, we still have each other now.

I Am What I Am

just when you thought the pair of hands stretched out in front of you are going to pull you out of the water, you are drowned further into the chilly water by the very same pair.

i leave the door into my life ajar, and let people stormed in and out of it as they wish. this door has never shut tight on them, despite the numerous hammerings and vandalisms inflicted upon it, and the storm and havoc they have wreaked in my life.

this door has never once shut.

i realised i can never quite expressed eloquently to people whom i love the most. i see this as good and bad. if i am anything less than prolific, it means that i have let my affections supersede my pride for people i dearly love and care around me.

i remain silence.

i do not impugn their intentional pedagogy or wrath on me but sometimes it does make me wonder if they really understand. pry into those thoughts without listening to those kvetchs. walk away from the swing and feel as if we have the most wonderful conversation exchange through that silence. see the emotions in my eyes without uttering those words.

and maybe i should just stop trying too hard.