When is My Turn?

When I browse blogs, I notice that many parents write about their children. You could actually follow their personal development on a regular basis, and how these parents handle situations. In each of these blogs, I see descriptions, photos and even video clips of the happiness that a child brings to the parents.

When I found my ex-classmates whom I've not seen in over 30 years on Facebook, I chatted with them, and they proudly say that they've kids - one even has six of them - and they've a family photo album on display. When they asked me "What about you? How many kids?", I knew what I had to reply. Yeah, of course I've another ex-classmate who's also in the same boat as I am, and there are thousands who live a joyful single life till the end of time, but that's not the focus here.

When I see my brother carrying his child, I see love, peace and joy. I would certainly like to carry my nephew each day but I can't, for he is not my child. It would be a joy to see your child turn, crawl, walk and ultimately talk at different stages of their lives. It is euphoric to hear the first babble and then the call for mommy and daddy.

Each day,  I have a great dream that one day - one fine day - I'll be a father and experience fatherhood like the rest of you. I don't know if I'll be a good father - I've lost a chance to be one. I don't have a clue if I'll ever get a second chance. Maybe better not because I've a bad temperament, and I'm impatient.

When is my turn? Don't ask because there's no answer; don't expect because it is gonna hurt... Only God knows.

But to all parents - new or experienced - out there, be thankful that you have a bundle of joy that was given to you by the Almighty. It doesn't matter if they're michievous, very naughty or throw tantrums every second. That is your gift. After all, they're kids - white sheets of cloth ready for you to paint pictures on them. Educate and treat them with kindness, respect and love; they will reciprocate. Eventually, the picture you get would be a very pretty and memorable one.



Representation of a Plant

I was in the garden this morning. The weather was sunny, and a plant caught my eye. I grabbed my camera and took a close-up shot with it. Well, I used the "Live View" mode and manual focus to capture this interesting shot which I think represents my present life.



Close-up but not close enough. Next time, I'll try using macro.



You see the cute little buds growing? They represent me, my family and others around me. Coincidentally, there are three leaves, too. Each of us will grow, experience new things and then die - just like the plants and any other living beings. Like the three buds on this plant greeting a new day, all of us have something new to experience; in my case, I've to start a new life and hopefully bloom into something nice. With constant water, sunshine, fertilizers and care, I'm sure the buds would grow well. And I will too, with regular positive encouragement, smiles, words of wisdom and love.

We will all grow old, and I do hope that before I'm too old, I'll see new buds again.

"The new beginning...."



Me, the Writer

I love to write. I've written articles to newspaper editors, poems and a real life story which appeared in the Reader's Digest about 8-10 years ago - I was paid US$500 for that. I'm not a good writer; I don't have enough flair for writing a full-blown article or a short story.

Recently, a colleague coaxed me into writing an article in a commemorative magazine for the Peranakan Association of Melaka (PPCM). I was rather reluctant initially as I knew it's gonna take time, but I love sharing what I know about my peranakan culture with others, so when the Secretary of the association approached me one day, I agreed. I was told to write two pages.

Last night, at the 110th Anniversary dinner, the magazine was sold to guests. Writers were also given a token of appreciation for their contribution to the magazine. Here's what was published:

Front of the commemorative magazine

The 2nd and 3rd page of the article

Guess what? I was also given a special token in the form of cash! That was a real surprise to me. This token was presented by the President of the Melaka PPCM. I walked up proudly on stage to receive this gift. I felt like an important person for a fleeting moment under bright lights and with two cameras facing me. It's a darn waste that I didn't bring my camera or else I could blog about the dinner.

"So, you're Kevin, eh? I've heard a lot about you." the president said as he gave a broad smile and shook my hand. Gosh, I really don't know what people have been telling him about me - I hope it's good, or maybe he was just exaggerating, I don't know. My father is a far more prominent person; I've always remained low profile.

"Come more often to the club," he added just before I left. Well PPCM has a club where members entertain themselves with songs, dance and games. Honestly, I don't go there because it's always at night, and I'm not very sociable. Maybe when I retire, I'll think of joining them.

For now, I've to work... and maybe some day continue writing heavier stuff - romance novels, sex tips etc.

Now I Know Who They Were

I've never thought I'd do this, but I did it yesterday. My parents wanted to visit a relative, and I took this opportunity to bring my camera along so that I could take shots of days gone by. I've been to her extra long colonial house since I was a little kid, and I've been intrigue by some of the photos I saw hanging on the plastered walls. The condition of the black and white photos have not changed a bit. I got to know that those are photos of my ancestors, whose relationship to me and names I never knew - or probably have forgotten - till a couple of days ago. Here are the photos:

Great Grandfather
Mr Chua Lip Tay

Great Grandmother
Mrs Ong Him Neo

Great-Great Grandmother
Mrs Lim Heng Neo

Grand Uncles

You'll see a bit of reflection on each photo as I dare not climb a chair or take them down in case something unfortunate happens. These are some of my relative's personal memorabilia not to be seen elsewhere. The photo of my grand uncles was originally taken in 1933 during the Wangkang Festival. Since there was no colour film at that time, each photo was hand-coloured. That's just amazing.

Well, I'm proud to say that I now know who my ancestors are though I still don't know what they did or how they had contributed to the Peranakans or Straits-born community. Maybe one day, I'll find out... yeah, one day.

I'm on a Diet with a Difference

OK, I've to admit it. I'm concerned about my weight - very concerned. Therefore, I'm going on a diet BUT with a difference. I need to stuff myself with food because I'm LOSING weight. Well, the amount of weight loss isn't too great but I'm having trouble putting on my pants because it keeps falling off even with a belt, and there's nothing nice to see behind the pants... I think I need to add between 5-10kg to my current weight to look nice.... hey, wait! Am I vain? No, I'm not. Men wanna look nice too.

I was very scrawny as a teen. When I started work, I put on a bit of weight, but when I came back to Malacca, I lost those hard-earned pounds. It took me years just to gain 4kg!!! Then I got married, and in the three years of marriage, I put on more weight, and the scale almost hit 70kg. from a mere 59kg, which is good to me. That didn't last long, though. Almost immediately after the divorce, I failed to maintain weight. It kept sliding downward. It has been 8 months since it happened, and I'm now down to 64kg. My height is 175 cm., and if the calculation is correct, the weight is still within the normal range.

To some of you, this little weight loss is absolutely nothing to be anxious about (I hope), and I know that stuffing myself with junk food and fast food is not a good way to increase weight. My appetite has been good; so has my ability to sleep. I don't know if it is my work, lack of happiness or something else that has been stopping me from gaining weight again.

I will never be overly depressed with this weight loss, yet I know if it keeps dropping, something must be wrong. Perhaps I need a change of diet... and a wife to cook nutritious home-cooked food for me. Maybe I should just go work in a restaurant instead of teaching. I want to add a little more flesh.

Long Holiday...what to do ah?

The office was deserted today as many Muslim employees have started their Aidil Fitri leave. So I took the opportunity to sneak out of the office early - I hope my boss isn't reading this. I'm not working for the next TEN days - that's right... 10 days of holidays partially because we were forced to take 3 days off. The rest are special holidays and weekends. I'll start work on ... on.... err... well, who cares? I can't remember but I know it's a Monday. So what am I gonna do?

I don't know. Perhaps I'll continue blogging regularly for 10 days, or rejuvenate my interest in photography. My poor Canon DSLR has been gathering dust in the cupboard for months already because I've been busy with classes, and I leave it at my mom's place most of the time... sigh. What a bloody waste of money; there are people who want one, yet they couldn't afford to own one.

How about travelling? Nah, I don't travel alone. It's no fun travelling without someone you love. Somehow, I'm not a lone traveller.

So what am I gonna do for 10 days? If I blog about it, that means I'm doing something; if I don't, that means I'll spend a lot of time sleeping and being a couch potato.

What to Do?

Last night, I prayed for a sunny morning as I wanted to cut the grass. It had been raining; the weather has been unpredictable in recent months. This morning, the sky appeared gloomy but God answered my prayers, the sun shone brightly by 8:00 AM as I was having breakfast at the mamak stall eating my favourite roti canai and drinking fresh cow's milk.

I didn't waste my time getting the grass cutter. As I was cutting the grass, I saw my neighbour. We exchanged greetings.

"Good morning, holiday ah?", the neighbour asked.

"No, I'm on leave - yesterday and today."

"Your wife working?", he said with a smile. He and my ex-wife are colleagues but in different faculties.

I sheepishly replied, "We're separated already."

My neighbour was stumped. "What do you mean separated?"

"We're divorced." Short and straight to the point.

"Ah?? What happened??" he exclaimed. Can't blame his ignorance as he's seldom at home till lately.

I shrugged my shoulders. What more could I answer?

"But... her parents came the other day right?" - he was still in a state of disbelief.

"If recently, those were my parents. If it's long ago, probably hers."

"So now you stay alone?" he asked. Yes, I don't have another woman in my life.

He shook his head. "So sorry..." - and there was a pause. "Sad la," he countinued as he looked at me. "Nowadays, things are different..."

I looked at him. "Yeah..." that's all I could utter. Then he continued with his work. As he turned around, I heard him repeat to himself, "Sad la".

I continued cutting my grass thinking of our conversation.  Each time someone asks me "What happened?" I just could not respond as I'm partially to be blamed too. As the blade of the machine rotated, I kept asking myself why on earth this is happening to me.

After the divorce, I live alone - except on weekends - while my ex-wife lives with her parents every single day about 300 meters away. Other neighbours could testify that I don't bring women home. Strangers have eyes to see that each time I go out, I'm alone unless a colleague wants to have lunch or dinner with me, which very rarely happens. Go ask any pub owner and see if they've ever seen me before. I'm made to look like the state's No.1 criminal... well, maybe I'm a criminal in the making - damn me.

I'm trying to be happy but each time someone asks that question, I'll reminisce and feel sad. I've lost a wife,  I only have me. Each day I pray that I've enough strength to live on, and live with the fact that there will still be questions like "What happened" and "Do you still keep in touch with her?" till it's time to leave this world; it doesn't matter if I remarry or not.

I finished cutting the grass in an hour or so.

"Hello!" the neighbour called again.

He handed me some mangoes. He plants a mango tree in his garden.  He is an Indian, and to the Hindus, mango leaves are hung above the door frame for blessings. I guess he felt sad for me but grateful that he has a family. Perhaps this kind gift also symbolises blessings that Mr. Siva, my neighbour, is passing on to me.

Thanks, Mr Siva. I need all the blessings I can get... and may God bless you and your family too.