This one is special

SANTA MARIA!!!!! Anxiety is building up!!!! Joe is due somewhere this/next week. Grrrr, i havnt had time to assimilate to the change. I pray all goes well. Shall be running down to JB to welcome baby Zion into the world when his stars and planets meet at the right time and place. As far as love is concern, yet another bundle of joy to add to my list of earthly delights. Sperfabulistic!!!!!!!!

Indigo Children

Ever felt like you don’t quite fit in? Maybe you were made for things greater than just “fitting in” :)

Many energy healers around the world started noticing a surge of babies born after the 1970’s to have indigo aura. According to their statistics, more than 60 % of people aged 14-25 are “indigo babies”. Indigo children have been on earth for as long as 100 years, but has increased in numbers since the world war two. Indigo children are believed to be sensitive beings, and very empathic towards their surroundings. They tend to be very in-tuned with the feelings of others, and are easily able to detect emotions. Indo babies have a clear sense of their “self” and feel a need to make a big change in his world, also recognized for their high talents and appreciation for creativity. They often ponder about their spirituality, and are known to be “wise beyond their years” because of their search for the self. Also very self-driven rather than system followers, which always makes them rebels, and thus the engine of change in the world.

The indigo phenomenon is believed to be a next step in our evolution as the human species. We are all capable of become Indigo children, but those born with it are here to show the way. Indigo Children can sense dishonesty, like a dog can sense fear. Indigos know when they're being lied to, patronized, or manipulated. And since their collective purpose is to usher us into a new world of integrity, the Indigos inner lie-detectors are integral. These children are worthy of awe, not labels of dysfunction. If anyone is dysfunctional, it's the systems that aren't accommodating the continuing evolution of the human species. If we shame the children with labels, we will crush a civilization before its had time to take roots.
Until fairly recently, all humans born on Earth were born as Third Dimensional beings. This means that they were fully in the material plane or realm, and their consciousness was "locked" into the Third Dimension. They functioned on the first three chakras, the material, the emotional and the mental. Where there was spirituality, it was usually seen as something outside or other than normal every day functioning. For example, Buddha had to sit under a tree for years to achieve spiritual enlightenment.

The Third Dimensional being is aware of him or herself as a separate and unique individual. There is no real sense of the unity or oneness of consciousness that is a factor of higher dimensional consciousness. Because of this sense of separation, humans have built a society that has very little awareness of the interconnectedness of beings and actions. And because of this lack of awareness, humans have created a planet of sorrow and suffering, where individuals see no need to be responsible for their thoughts, feelings and actions. Fear of not surviving on the individual level, because of lack of resources, has led to greed and imbalances that need to be addressed in order to create a stable planetary home for all humans.
The Indigo children arrived with the key to multi-dimensionality. They were born into Third Dimensional bodies, but their consciousness was effectively in the Fourth Dimension and capable of moving into the Fifth. When this "wave" of Indigo consciousness arrived on the planet in the early 1970s, the way was opened for all humans and the planet itself to shift into the Fourth Dimension.

At the Fourth Dimensional level of Consciousness, humans become aware of the Universal Law of One, otherwise known as "Unity Consciousness". This Law states that we are all One, we are all connected and that whatever affects one of us affects all of us. Indigo children carry this awareness in their consciousness, and it leads them to be warriors for many causes that will heal the Earth and stop humans from destroying and polluting their environment and harming other humans. The Law of One also fosters the understanding in Indigo beings that we are all equal, and that no one is greater than any other. The Indigo-Crystal adventure represents a huge evolutionary leap for the human species.
The Crystal Children began to appear on the planet from about 2000, although some date them slightly earlier. 90% of children aged between 1-7 are believed to be “crystal babies”. The first thing most people notice about Crystal Children is their eyes, large, penetrating, and wise beyond their years.

The Crystal Children have opalescent auras, with beautiful multi-colours in pastel hues. In the new world which the Indigos are ushering in, we will all be much more aware of our intuitive thoughts and feelings. We won't rely so much upon the spoken or written word. Communication will be faster, more direct, and more honest, because it will be mind to mind.
So, it's not surprising that the generation following the Indigos are incredibly telepathic. Many of the Crystal Children have delayed speech patterns, and its not uncommon for them to wait until they're 3 or 4 years old to begin speaking. The trouble comes about when the Crystals are judged by medical and educational personnel as having "abnormal" speaking patterns. It's no coincidence that as the number of Crystals are born, that the number of diagnoses for autism is at a record high.

As the indigo children have left their mark of change onto this world, it is the role of the Crystal children to maintain this change, act as a link between the transitions, and bring peace to the world as we evolve into our Golden Era.

Ceh-wah

The three Arokiam women decided to get together today and take a drive down to Kuala Kubu Bharu. Tei, a lively young Chin refugee that has been helping my sister out in her farm also followed us on our little crusade. I always feel stronger somehow, when I am in the company of my two favorite women-yet unbearable. The two hour journey was quite what I expected- a whole lot of nonsense, which kinda made sence on that particular journey. I was put in the back seat of the car, and watched by the rest as they awaited for me to kick off a young and bubbly conversation with Tei. Nothing came to mind besides the usual “ASL please”. 15 minutes down the journey, dagger stares were thrown from my sister followed by comments from my mother, in Tamil!!! Oh boy, Tamil meant trouble, definitely something she wouldn’t have wanted Tei to understand. As the pressure was building up in the car, I saw Tei lean forward from the corner of my eye. She held a tissue on her mouth and vomited out the chakuai that we ate a few minutes before. Boy, What a relief. All attention was on her and the “funny air” was gone- now covered with vomit fumes. We stopped by the side of the road and spent most of the journey fussing over her. Conversation came naturally after that, I guess I just needed an ice-breaker, in whatever form. Instead of the usual pass the parcel, pass the vomit seemed quite suitable. Saved by the vomit.

We parked our car by the hill, and walked up to Antares’ house. Antares is a well-known local artist, a rebel at heart, eccentric at being, and one that fights for a good cause…just because. From afar, I saw his wife, Anoor waving at us. Wrapped in what we would call rags, there stood a woman- a real woman. Her skin was dark, features somewhat unique, short curly hair, thin and petite, young in flesh but old in soul. Antares now stays with the orang asli in Kuala Kubu Bharu, well-assimilated into their culture, and the proud husband of one of the locals. I have heard stories before, that Antares had wedded a “special” woman, and was gifted with one “special” son. I was there that day, to meet them- and of course taste Antares’ famous “magic mushrooms” that he had promised us prior to our visit. However, sadly, unfortunately, and with much relief to my mother, Antares had helped himself to a few cups of “happy tea” while waiting for our arrival. His six dogs and five cats roamed his land and shared the vicinity.

We climbed up the stairs leading to his house, bearing gifts of shit- literally. My sister thought that it would be a nice gesture to bring him some organic fertilizer- to enrich his rich land. True enough, he was ecstatic at the sight of shit. We introduced ourselves to the family. His wife seemed a little reserved and skeptic. His son, a 12 year old naked boy, thin and tall, squatted on a plastic chair glued to the computer- was completely oblivious to our presence. Unlike his father, this little one couldn’t give two shits. The house was on stilts, so I walked below the window and called for him. He greeted me with an “alien language”. Most of his syllables were made up of the sounds “la” and “na’. In a weird way, I completely understood him. A thought passed through my mind- he didn’t mind not being understood- which by itself is an understanding of the self that is so profound. He made me smile, and I made him “na na la la la”.

The sky was starting to get dark, we felt a few drops of rain trickle down our body. We immediately packed the necessary, gathered the heard and headed down to the waterfall. How sweet it must be- living next to such a majestic creation, with the sound of the cicadas to kill the silence- being in a place that was made for you, in your land that you inherited from children, right where one was ment to be.

The journey there took barely a few minutes. Anoor and son decided to perch by the shallow river. The rest of us continued our journey through the narrow road, that led to a beautiful opening. All of the dogs seemed pleased to be there, sniffing about in the familiar land. Without a second of hesitance, they made their way to the water and plonked. Haha, what an unusual sight. After a few hops and skips from rock to rock- there we were at the famous “diving spot” that I had been looking forward to. My mother and Antares waited by the bank and watch the three young ones splash about in the water.
The water was as perfect as perfect could be. Warm enough to keep you from shivering, and cold enough to give you a chill down your spine. Sabina climbed her way to a high spot on one of the rocks, apparently, the exact same spot that she allowed Antares to coax her for a good 15 minutes to take a plunge of death-or so she made it seem. While the both of us were busy getting all jittery, Tei made her way up to the “spot” and dove in fearless. Wow!! Where did the quiet mouse in her go to?? Sabina and i were in disbelief, we waited for her to pop her head out of the gushing waters, patiently as the anxiety in us built up. No biggie on her side tho, she arose from the water and the look on her face said it all- it was one hack of a thrill. She laughed and kept on tumbling among the rocks- Tei the little Mogli. Next up was my Sabina’s turn. Being the eldest among us and the more experienced one- there was no room to show fear. She took a leap, not to far out, but just enough to avoid the rocks that could have caused her some massive concussion. Then came my turn. Surprisingly, most of my anxiety had dispersed. Partially because my swimming skills had improved a tad bit over the past years. I held my nose tight and counted loudly, “one , two, three”!, not allowing my mind to take over my body, my feet left the rocks I stood on pushing my body as far as I could. I made a huge splash in the water, and I felt myself disappear from this world for a few seconds, time seemed maya. Somehow, I didn’t panic, I just let myself be. The current pushed me up and I followed till the waters were still. The adrenaline rush was out of this world, crinkly toes put to shame.

Adventurous we were, climbing every algae- filled rock and discovering every god-made jacuzzi. We strayed a little far, excited that we had found a pool- like spot, we swam about like little guppies. The day was getting chilly, so we made our way back. The swim home was a little tricky, and the current was not at our mercy. Before any of us could react to what was approaching, my reflex made me stretch out and pull my sister from falling down the rocky fall. I felt my heart dip when I missed her hand by a second, and there I was watching my other self dip down that intimidating waterfall, rock and all. I froze, and I waited. A few moments after, I saw her escape the current and hold on to a tree bark for her dear life. Antares quickly noticed the commotion, and he ran to her rescue. From the top of the waterfall, I could see the concern in my mother’s face. We were all scared, but somewhat relieved that she was alive and kicking. As I was hurrying my way to her, I saw her stand up. I stopped to take a few moments to myself- just registering that that very moment could have been the worst day of my life. From afar, I saw Antares performing reiki on her slightly injured leg, as she laughed . Pewh, how typical of Sabina Arokiam! I was angry and worried, and tickled and shocked all at the same time.

The whole “Sabina” drama marked the end of our little adventure. As we took our first few steps back home, suddenly my sister’s last words before she fell came to me. “Woops, Here I Go”. I burst out laughing and the others shared my amusement. Geez, I would never have imagined anyone’s last words before a near death experience to be: “Woops, Here I Go”!!!!!. One too many Murphy’s has made the flesh too sore.

When we stepped foot at the house again, the rain had already shied away. Caught up in the moment, I hadn’t noticed that Sabina was going through some severe emotional distress. I soon discovered that much to her horror- Brother E**** was also there for a visit. What odd luck, we were just talking about the few home-runs that he tried to score with my sister the last time she met him. Itchy man he is. As the story goes, he even tried to rest his fingers under my sister’s bum as she was about to sit on a chair. Hahahah, who would have expected it from a brother eh? She said a quick hello, and avoided much delay after.

We made ourselves at home in what Antares had introduced to us as- his “bamboo palace’. It was just the perfect home, nipah roof, bamboo floor, and beautiful veranda- all of which were resting on stilts. I stole a few minutes alone on the hammock after drying up. I swung slow, afraid that it might give way considering that it was just bamboo keeping the house together.

Tea was served, we sat around a plastic table enjoying the tea that Antares had mad for us- each cup catered to our specific interest, the smell of wet-dog made me feel at home. Conversations after that gave me a clue that both my mother and Antares had already exchanged a few stories about my family. Tea time brought us many interesting conversation, many of which that touched me on a more personal note. Brother E**** however, was too obsessed yacking away about himself, disrupting the sync of the energy around the table that existed before. I had prepared myself for a horny little bastard, but nothing annoys me more than a yacky know-it –all. from across, I saw my mother trying her best to make conversation with Anoor. From her facial expressions, crinkly excess skin on her forehead- I could tell that most of the conversation was lost in translation.

I got off my seat and took the stairs down. Being the perfect opportunity to escape the round table discussion, Tei jolted out of her chair and followed me down. We took a walk around the house and settled down facing the beautiful sunset. The silver lining was amazing, the rays and the orangey-pink sky made it extra- ordinary. We started talking, and I begun to enjoy our conversation. She spoke to me about her four brothers, and I butted in by saying that I would be happy to share my sister with her. She nodded her head, and said thank you. She looked like she needed to say something, so I kept my eyes locked on her face. She smiled as she said, “I love her very much, she is the best teacher”. I couldn’t describe how proud of my sister I was at that moment, this is the greatest gift one could give to another- love and knowledge. I was happy that Sabina had made a difference in her life- just as she had done in mine. I learnt so much about that young girl in that few minutes. She is a strong, unique, loving young woman, and one day- she shall be great, not because she must, but because she knows that it is she.

Right before the last ray of sunlight disappeared, the sweet potatoes were ready- freshly baked, hot and wild. It was the best sweet potatoes I have ever tasted, I admit, it may have been fully psychological. I made my way around the little crowd avoiding Antares’ legs afraid that his sarong might give way any moment, settled myself in the only available spot- beside Antares’ wife. We soon made small conversations. I found it hilarious, we seemed like we were having a fully functional conversation, but to tell you the truth- I couldn’t understand a single word she was saying and vice versa. But it didn’t matter, all she wanted was for someone to listed, the nodding and smiling looked like it made her happy, so I kept up my good work. From what I gathered, one of the most intense topics throughout our conversation involved the word ‘mabuk” for more than four times followed by “nenek” “mati” and “longkang”. Thinking of it now, geez, poor lady, gruesome even - if it means what I think it means.

We rounded up our conversations and said our goodbyes, exchanging a few hugs. It seemed like everyone there had enjoyed each other’s presence, and farewell was not an option- we would most definitely be back in the near future. In fact, Antares’ wife had asked me for my phone number. According to him, this is the first time she had taken interest in anyone, all the more, ask for a number. Antares couldn’t help but spark some curiosity among the rest. Apparently, she hasn’t yet conquered the superficial knowledge of functioning a phone. She pulled me closer to her, and whispered, “bawa baju, rambutan, dan nie (pointing to her eyes)”. Ahhhhhh, now it all made sense, for a second I thought I was special. It seems like I was the perfect target to fish a gift, impressed by the rainbow on my eyes, lips and nails. Everyone had a good laugh, because she did it in such a pure and innocent way, shining the child in her. I dug through my bag- and brought out my lipstick. The glow on her face was priceless as I handed it to her.

Today I got to know many strangers, today I went back to my real home, today I shared my love, today I learnt many things new. It was a splendid day indeed. I hope I have many more days as such, to keep my spirits high.

Welcome to the world baby Lucas!!!
This bundle of sugar is the latest addition to my list of nephews :)
Wallah, Kudos God!! Good job done yet again!!

Katrina Who???

Back in my younger days, I thought of my name as being unique and somewhat cool. Nobody I knew had it, and kids at school use to get fascinated by my one of a kind calling. People called me Kat, Kathy, Kanna, Trina and Katax (this one was derived from a disasterous scrabble game with my cousins at 3 am). Some of it stuck on, some of it forgotten- but I always remained Katrina. The others that didn’t matter much insisted to call me Katherine- which by the way, is a name that I absolutely despise.

I think that the representation of this name to me was amplified because I don’t have a middle name. Tragically, my father wasn’t around to watch my coming into the earth and he conveniently forgot to add his name to my birth certificate when he went back a few days later. THUS, I was left with neither a middle name, nor a surname.

Apparently, I was named by my grandmother. My mom feared her existence- her decision was usually final. Little did she know that I failed to carry down the legacy of the “Das”, that has been passed down for generations. Katrina Mudali Das- Yuck. God Bless my Father’s faked pre- Alzheimer’s!!

Maybe I was lucky in a way that I didn’t get stuck with any traditional names such as “Ranjeni” or “Pushpa”. I have a Sabahan brother-in-law whose name is Jamal. He spoke and looked like a Malay, thus my grandmother refused to call him by his original name. Matthias was his confirmation name, and the preferred option. However, over the past year, “Mathias” has slowly and conveniently evolved into being “Muttiah”. Poor boy.

Some people think its kinda cool. I do admit that it would have been cool if my parents came to a conscious decision to name me Katrina- and just Katrina. Once you get around the whole drama of my name’s birth, it just sounds kinda sad. Not to mention the trauma I went through as a child, convinced by my siblings that I was picked up by the rubbish dump. Thank god I grew to resemble one of my two of my cousins- each from different sides of the genes.

Long story short, my point is that there is no other name besides Katrina, that I can truly identify myself with.

As I grew older, I found an album in my dad’s dusty record collection- it read “Katrina and The Waves”. Oh well, it didn’t bug me much, coz they looked geeky anyway, and nobody really took notice of them – besides old school men such as daddy; impressing them wasn’t exactly on top of my list.

On my first day of registration in college, I walked over to the counter to enroll myself. Boy was I shocked when I saw that there were two “Katrinas” on that darn enrollment list. Not only was it my name, it was spelt the same way too!!!! I felt stripped of my identity, and I was determined to find the “OTHER” Katrina to kinda see if she lived up to the uniqueness of the name. Ironically, we met in a lift, and introduced ourselves. She was one of my first few friends in college, and she remains a very good friend to me till today. I grew to like her, Fab Kat; OCASSIONALLY cooler than me J, so there wasn’t any competition for the “True Katrina”. We hung out together most of the time, and ironically, ended up under the same work roof. The confusion that started five years ago still remains. Some people resort to calling us Kat A and Kat B, or Kat 1 and Kat 2. It never really bugged me as I thought it would have, I enjoyed the little jokes that we use to make, and even the jokes made at the expense of us. However, there were also other Kats in college. One of them called Katriona; probably the more sophisticated version of Katrina, and the other was just unacceptable…… her name didn’t even contain the letter “K” in it. It derived from some stupid nickname that her siblings gave her when she was young, and thus it stuck on.

With the four “Kats” in college simultaneously, I kinda got used to being the “less unique”. Soon came Hurricane Katina, Katrina Kaif and many other random strangers that answer to the calling.

I always knew that I was named after a saint. My caloricity led me to a very disturbing fact of history. The name belonged to a 4th-century saint and martyr from Alexandria who was tortured on the famous Catherine wheel. The Catherine wheel (also called the breaking wheel), turned out to be quite a gruesome torture device. A seventeenth-century chronicler wrote the victim looked like, “A sort of huge screaming puppet writhing in rivulets of blood, a puppet with four tentacles, like a sea monster, of raw, slimy and shapeless flesh mixed up with splinters of smashed bones.”

*Shudde*

OMG !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Its like naming your child “Doom” or “Curse” !!!!.

In this moment, sitting in my room alone with thousand thoughts running through my head, candle lights surrounding my room, cold air running though my toes, had parquet comforting my body- I don’t really care if I’m really a “Katrina” anymore. Because I have a choice to be who I want to be- I choose to be “Katrina- one ever evolving.

From days that we use to cry by the pool, eat crackers in the balcony, head out to Bangsar with a hankie as a top, spend each day of our lives in the infamous 3-15-5 Pantai Hillpark…….you have come a long way. Caring and loving has always been your way, but now I see something new- I see hope in your face.

Congratulations Joe!!!!!!!!!!!! a new life awaits his turn!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It’s always an honor to watch someone you love become a mother.

For what its worth

People are worth more than their worst action.

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Today I feel somewhat lonely. Every time I question my existence in this world, I cant help but to feel lost and small among so many other –things of more importance

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When I compromise my feelings for the sake of someone else’s happiness, it seems like an act of kindness. When that someone else expects me to sacrifice my feelings for the sake of his or her own happiness, it seems like an act of selfishness

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When I loose my freedom to act and feel, I loose my drive to breathe

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We can not force happiness upon someone, or question its existence or non-existence, it just is, when it shall, how it will.

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When I do things that are not “me”, I feel like I’m betraying myself

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Its sad when I wake up some mornings, realizing that what I thought was a thought so profound is actually something so dumb

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The simple truth is that I want to remain “me”, untouched and rare. I despise when people think they know whats best for me. I do not need you to shower my seed, I choose to wait for the rain

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What you may think of as important always seems so trivial to me

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Someone clipped my wings when I reached out to embrace

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I don’t want to search because it is too dark, cant I wait for the moonlight?

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Why does it bug me so much that I have nothing to remind me of my childhood? Is it because it is no longer with me?

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Thou shall not put thy burden of guilt on thy neighbor

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I hate to hear people’s voices that try to teach me how to live

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People see wisdom in different things

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There are two types of lies: The ones we tell to others & the ones we tell ourselves

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Sometimes you just kno things

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I feel different today

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Do not try to chop of its branch every time it creeps for sunlight

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I Wuff You!!!!!!

I haven't slept much today. Was awake the night trying to comfort Milano.

A dog in my dad's center gave birth to 7 puppies. Its funny, but all of em are so distinctively different. I couldn't help it but take one home. Named him Milano. Hez pure black but he has the most loveliest shaggy coat. 3 weeks old, what a darling. Im giving him up to my cousin next month.

Grr, its gonna be tough trying not to get attached to him. They're like babies aren't they? And i love the soft toffee smell you get on puppies, and their gentle huff when you lift them up.
The look on his mothers face as i took him away was like a stab to my heart. Heard him cry himself to sleep today morning. *sniff*.

Sigh- now thats my true passion in life, being close to what is most pure. I wanna take a few years off when i'm older and live in the jungle. I wanna swim with the whales, touch the elephants feet, kiss the orang utan and watch the horn bills fly. I want to sleep on the grass, wash my face in a river and ohh.... i almost fogot.... find my unicorn.

Pull out the bip before reading....

Mangosteen Sorbet

Ingredients:

500g mangosteen flesh, deseeded and shells reserved for decoration
juice of 1 lime (or to taste) - I used calamansi limes
100g caster sugar (or to taste)

100ml liquid glucose
8-10 mangosteen shells with lids, rinsed and dried

In a blender, puree the mangosteen flesh with the lime juice and the sugar till smooth. In a small saucepan over low heat, melt the glucose and pour it into the blender with the mangosteen mixture. Blend together. Taste the mixture and if it is not sweet, add extra sugar and if too sweet, add more lime juice. If you have an ice-cream maker, process it as per the equipment's instructions or if you don't have one, just put it in a plastic container to the freezer and blend it again about 4 hours later. Leave it in the container till the next day and then scoop out into the mangosteen shells to serve.

*Drooling Nasty*

Manis Di Mulut

I had Tang for the first time after so so many years. I was ecstatics when i saw it in the super market. The packaging has changed tho, remember how our tang used to come in thick glass bottles with green wrapping? The one we bought was a tacky yellow packaging that came in a bag. Unlike our good old Smarties and Haw flakes which taste cheaper as the years go by, Tangs somehow managed to sustain its tangy tingly zesty feeling on your tongue. I didn't have a chance to make a glass today, so i grabbed the small packet and stuffed it in my handbag as i rushed out the door headed to work. The first thing i did when i reached the office was to sit down and enjoy myself a cold cup of Tangs. Ouu Yummy. It all kinda brought back old memories. Glucose came to mind too, the grape flavor was my favorite. I cant imagine drinking glucose again, it just sounds ikky to me now, but i think i wouldn't mind having some of the powder. I remember eating all the powder from my tree-drops and refilling it with the glucose. It never quite tasted the same, but at least they looked alike. Oh Oh .... and my favorite....Fruitips!!! This may sound a bit creepy, but i goggled it..and i found out that Nestle had stopped production in Malaysia and the nearest place we can get it is in Singapore. Oh boy, that's not too far for some good old Fruitips. Maybe i should venture into Fruitips importing. I'm sure that all of us 70's and 80's kids would pool me much demand.

How we long for the things that remind us of our childhood. Just a few days ago, Eddy, Thilly and i came across a roti man riding his bike overflowing with all sorts of roti and chickadees on the road. There was a sudden excitement in the car. we couldn't stop the roti man because there were just too many cars on the road so we followed him for a bit and honked till he stopped. i think our eyes were too greedy, each of us grabbed two packets of buns each, however, i was quite disappointed because he didn't have my keropok durian. i was still overjoyed, for a second, i felt like ive known that roti man all my life. we took our bread home and had it after dinner. Potato bun, koko bun and the bun keras. ouuuu,,,,,, nothing like it eh? :)

p/s: Charlene, i promise to bring the packet of Tang right back home.

White Flag

When I was growing up, I hardly remember much of my dad. He was always off to some far away land earning a living. Close to him I was somehow, I remember crying outside my house one day as I waved goodbye to him.

My parent’s marriage was always rocky and uncertain as far as I could remember. We had to abstain from talking bout dad, with fear and concern that it would upset mum. His arrival home was always secretly anticipated but it never lasted long.

When I was 10, we moved to Batu Arang where dad started a shelter home for young boys who were either orphans or had major disciplinary problems. The family stayed in a single room allocated for us in the shelter along with dad for a couple of months, before we shifted to a beautiful kampong house not too far away. Simon, my old and ridiculously grumpy dog of 10 years also found comfort in the land.

Things were better off for us kids there, but mum and dad remained distant under the same roof. The schools were near, it didn’t feel so lonely anymore and for the first time in my life, I had real friends. We felt safe there in our new house, and god knows it, mum was the happiest because she didn’t have to worry of our dear lives anymore as she stayed awake hugging us with her eyes wide open at night fearing for the worst. Although dad didn’t take the time to be with us, we were allowed to join in the fun along with the other boys from the shelter. Here, one of my first few memories of my dad were sculpted. We use to go jungle tracking and fishing together behind the shelter. It was fun, here I discovered a whole new passion in life as my siblings and I went through a right of passage where we were “BatuArangfied” and subtlety “sakaified”.

It took quite a while to adapt. I remember the kids at school being amused at the fact that my brother and I were English literate. However, we were the only ones out of the 600 children at school, and I found it hard to communicate in Malay. I think my brother and I also created history by being the only Indians in the school too, but back in the kampong, the color of your skin did not matter.

Things became better for dad from then on. We couldn’t afford anything fancy but at least there was no worry about our next meal and that was a bigger blessing than what mum had expected in that small town.

After two years of serving in the shelter, dad moved on to his life long dream to open a drug rehabilitation center and a hospice for HIV & AIDS patients here in Batu Arang. Things went on well for him, and the place grew bigger and stronger as it changed the lives of people of all walks of life, most on their death beds.

Dad still remained busy, in fact busier than he ever was before. I remember being the only one waiting at the school gate day after day, knowing that dad had forgot to pick me up.

As we grew older, Mum finally built up some courage to take on a job. She traveled daily to KL, left at 6 am and reached home at 9 pm. I grew very independent during these years, as I had to care for myself and the home. Father figures came and went, I grew much attached to one particular man but they all passed away like flies from AIDS.

My friends at school were my comfort, most of them remained my close friends till this very day. The best and purest friendships are found when you are children I believe. There in that small town, my path crossed with a soul whom I was destined to meet, and I found my first love. He was the biggest part of my life for years. He thought me how to love and live free. Adventures came along with the bicycles my siblings and I inherited from our cousins. We use to roam the town, discovering lakes and secret gardens. We played in the river, and found amusement in the smallest things. My sister soon grew out of it, but my brother remained my playmate till my teenage years. Throughout my journey into early adulthood, my relationship with my sister blossomed again.

As we grew up, a few events took place in my family which made my parent’s marriage worse. This time, it even made the kids bitter towards them. Funny maybe, but I never remember longing for a whole family. I suppose I had gotten used to things being as such, and I never knew what I was missing out on. Before I knew it, sis had moved out of the house and mom had found a new life somewhere else. I strayed away from my sister because she didn’t want have anything to do with the family at that point of time. I needed her to take mom’s place, but she couldn’t. The house was lonely; I tried to spend most of my time staying over at a friend’s houses.

I moved in with my sister a day after my SPM had ended, took on a 15 hour job as a waitress in DOME KLCC that paid me RM700 a month and treated me like crap.

After four month of Cinderella torture, I moved to Pantai Hillpark. College had just started and the jobs that I took on were pretty ok. Things were good for me. I found a few new friends in college that I got along with, day by day our friendship grew stronger, 5 years in counting. Back at home there was always Joe and Thilly to brighten my day and lean on in times of trouble. The three of us were inseparable. It kinda felt like Joe was our third house mate because she hardly went back home even though it was just a few floors down, but of course; her presence was more than loved. Thilly and I took on a job at TGI Friday’s where we had the most exciting and memorable time (I’’’ save that for another day). I had discovered a whole new family here in KL, and it soon became my home. People came and left the house, and my new found family grew bigger, but none of them ever left my life. Later on came Charlene and her family whom perfected the empty spots in my circle.

Months passed by and I grew more apart from my real family, or what was left of it. I don’t remember going home or even picking up the phone to call anyone one of them; but I was doing ok. My new found boyfriend had kept me pretty occupied and happy. I remember waiting for a phone call from my mother on my 18^th birthday, but she never did. But I understand why, she knew I was angry at her.

We started talking months after, but I was always rude and constantly angry. She tried very hard to win me over, but nothing worked for almost a year. I could not forgive, for leaving me at times when I think I most needed her. I learnt to detach myself and I became someone else, a young lady who was her own and nobody else’s.

As the years passed by, I eventually softened. Mum turned bipolar from full-time edgy so we kids learnt to feed on the happy times and just let her be on all the other occasions. I grew closer and closer to my siblings again, there was nothing to patch up between us, we just strayed apart for a bit, I guess everybody just needed their time to kinda figure out things. Things changed as i grew older, I stood up for my self (more than I should have), I was very vocal with my dissatisfactions and I refused any suggestions or advice from my parents. To me, I had gone through the toughest times of my life alone, I didn’t need them anymore to take care of me. There were ups and down in our relationship as a family but there was definitely effort from a few sides to meet up once in a while. We had more things to talk about, and more things to laugh about. Things just started to build it’s self like lego blocks, slowly. Birthdays were celebrated and trips were planned. I didn’t have much time to spare for my family, I was juggling a full time on-my-feet job and college at the same time.

I transferred to SEGI in my last year. By then, I had stopped working and I wanted to give myself a chance to enjoy one year of my college life as a student- and just a student. Dad used his EPF to pay for my fees and I survived with minimal allowance. There was so much time for leisure and play, more time than I could ever imagined. Assignments were a breeze and getting respectable grades didn’t even require much effort. It was an extremely easy year in college.

My family took more interest in my life, and with all that spare time, I made it a point to join in the fun during our occasional gatherings. My sister moved to KL and the entire family would drive down quite often juts to meet up for a nice dinner. Things were good as a whole even though my parents were not exactly reconciled, sis was going through a tough time with her divorce and bro was sinking deeper into his problems. We were growing stronger as a unit. For the first time in years, everyone was well informed about much that was going on and each other’s life and they tried to help whenever they could.

Two months ago I visited home for my occasional Sunday lunch. These days, mum allows dad to step in the house and make him self comfortable whenever we visited. Much to my surprise, I realized that dad had gone into the room for a short nap and mum had followed after, being all shy and all about the whole awkward situation. What a shock!!!! Never in my life would I have imagined that my parents would ever live under the same roof again, let alone in the same room!!! Apparently, what brought them together was my brother who needed constant company at home while going through a really tough patch in life. News immediately traveled to my sister who was about to return from US in a few days. We were all ecstatic.

My sister gave up her house and moved back to Batu Arang with great dreams for the land and people there. I went home a couple of times and it was our new routine to gather around the tv and chat our night away-together.

My 23^rd birthday celebration with my family that year was the best ive ever had. My family always took the effort to celebrate birthdays no matter what the situation was, but this time I felt something different in the air: everybody was there as usual- but this time they all wanted to be there and it wasn’t just some stupid obligation towards the other.

The festive season blew in more fun. We had a family trip down to JB and laughed throughout our journey there.

After a week of time with them, it kinda felt lonely being back home in KL again. It was indeed a weird feeling, we fight so much, we hate each other’s guts sometimes, they are completely annoying most of the time, but I think I missed them- coz I realized, that I’m exactly like the four of them put together and I found a little bit of me in every one of them. The thought of me missing them frightened me, and it was kinda ikky. I don’t mind missing the individuals in the family, but missing the unit by itself was too overwhelming for me.

Two days ago I received a call from home. She called to tell me about all her little adventures she was having and to fill me in on all the happenings at home and in the center. We spoke for a good 20 minutes and I was shocked that there was so much going on at the same time. I thought that it was just the luck that my sister had brought to Batu Arang but my she corrected me and said that things were always as dramatic as that- its just that nobody ever told me. There in the background, I heard chattering voices and laughs. The phone was passed around and I had my fair share of chat with the rest of them.

I sat in my room for a while after I had hung up. I realized that it was the first time in my life that my family was living under one roof- without me. Here I am living my life in KL, missing out on my only chance to have a full family- one that I had been denied all my life. As irritating and crazy as it can get at home- therez really nothing like it and I wish that I was there with them to enjoy it. I wanna fight and laugh and cry with them, most of all, I want them all to be a huge part of my life, as I am already theirs. After 30 years of starting a family together, who would have guessed?

I want to cherish and celebrate the people around me this year, and be more forgiving. This is my new year resolution for 2009. Cheers to people that make our life beautiful, both dark and bright, touched us in some way, changed us by their presence.

Faezah. Puru. Lela. Ah Soon. Bahiyah. Ain. Nabila. Chong. Jasvin. Sarvin. Aunty G. Dalvin. Pretty. Sugi. Hari. Ram. Muhi. Alison. Ram. Adrian. Kat. Alison. Dimps. Sam. Leaf. Iris. Nikhil. Alicia. Mark. Judith. Kenny. Sasa. Ranae. Don. Geeven. Kuhan. Rachel. Steven. Amrit. Thuls. Alice. Anne. Richard. Dharma. Yuhi. Rahim. Nick. Joe. Thilly. Charlo. Niezan. Poopie. Frida. Dinesh. Steve. Steve’s mom. Justin. Ram. Dot.Adam. Albert. Justin. Shern. Andrea. Eddy. Charlene & family. Josil. Timmy. Steph. Josh. Baby. Joanne. Joanne. Nishi. Max. Bernard. Ferdi. Rani. Ameer. Uncle Veda. Francis. Sashi. Tina. Sham. Anna. Irwan. Ben. Aunty Alcy. Uncle Muru & family.

Dad- your priorities were always wrong, you made may mistakes in life, but I love the way you love strangers- and you have thought me how.

Mom- youre kinda psychotic, I dunno where to start. Hahah, but I love the way you feel the pain and joy of people close to you- and you have thought me how.

Aka- You are so irritating- I love the way you are yourself- and you have thought me how.

Ana- You have caused much worry in our hearts- but I love the way you are, for the person you are inside beneath everything that others judge you for- and you have thought us all.

H a P p Y n E w Y e A r ! ! !

The Sunken

As he was walking through the forest gazing up at the sky, he fell into a puddle of quicksand. The trees in the forest ached as they watched him sink slowly. Rooted to the ground, so near but yet so far, there was nothing that they could do but their hearts bled deep.

He struggled for a while, but then he kept still. Inch my inch, the sand sucked him in. From his waist, to his neck to his lips. He said a soft prayer, and closed his eyes.

The trees wept for him, but he never knew. The sadness lingered around the forest, slowly as the trees started to shed their green leaves and wither away. Autumn was ending and winter blanketed, but will spring promise them brighter days?

Their creeping crap

I opened my mail today as i was looking forward to flooding messages from friends wishing me a splendid Christmas and a Happy New Year; unfortunately, the first one i came across was a not-so-pleasant surprise:

Once you have opened this e-mail, there's no turning back. Below are true descriptions of zodiac signs. Read your sign, then forward it on, with your zodiac sign and label on the subject line. This is the real deal, try ignoring or changing it, and the first thing you'll notice is having a horrible day starting tomorrow morning - and it only gets worse from there. 14 years of bad luck if you do not forward.

I don't believe in curses, but i do believe it sends out negative energy- which in one way or the other, to the least, cause one some anxiety or fear.
Here i am embracing this curse, Bring it on sucker!! To whoever that sent me or anyone else this, UP YOURS!!!!