Safe Return

Life is full of disappointments.

Not for me. I am fine. Life is beautiful for me at the moment.

I have a beautiful family, beautiful loved ones, a beautiful career [though how ugly people's perceptions towards my job are, that I don't really care] and a beautiful body [yeah, I am beautiful in the eyes of the beholder....my own eyes!]

But feeling disappointed is such an understatement when I heard about yet another news of abduction. The sadness shared here understates the extent of the real anguish the parents feel now.

Their only son was abducted while walking to school yesterday morning.

Vanished.

The father was crying while begging for the safe return of his son at a press conference. The mother was beside him, speechless. She must be overwhelmed with confusion, anger and sadness. She shed her tears. Everyone else there was seen shedding tears too.

How can people not be sad about this?

What kind of devils at work here?

 What good can we learn out of this incident?

I don't think we can do much about anything nowadays. Even if you lock your doors from inside, those lunatics will find their ways if their intention is to break in. If the aim is to abduct, they will do exactly that even if you guard your kids with armed bodyguards. But yeah, how many of us can afford bodyguards, anyway?

I pray for the safe return of this boy and anyone at all who is forcibly being taken away against his/her will. Safe return. It means without harm and still alive. Unhurt. Untouched. Undisturbed.

And we shall pray for this madness to be stopped altogether. Pray that our kids or family members to be safe, happy and healthy. Pray that everyone in this world has finally stopped envying others, so that they won't take what is not theirs.

Because praying is the only thing we can actually do now.

The Same Old Stories

She's been on my mind for quite some time now.

Whenever I have the time to speak to her during class, I will ask her a few questions. The same old stories.

But a whole lot of understanding towards the definition of struggle, happiness and sadness. I used to think that it is just impossible to live a life like what she's been living now. But she's the living proof. At least she is one of the many people who share the same fate as hers.

It all started when I noticed her staying in class with some rations to eat during recess. I asked her to go to the canteen to join other kids having their break. She politely refused. Between her smiles and silent giggles, she admitted of frequently bringing food from home to munch. And that is if she has something to bring. Always, there are some bread and plain water. 

So the conversation stopped there.

And it soon continued when I got to know her more. She is an orphan. The mother is unemployed as she is also unwell, receiving small funds from the government to feed all mouths in the house. Only few hundreds Ringgit Malaysia monthly for 5 members staying in the house in the middle of the country's capital city. They have nowhere else to go but staying put in this big city as the house is theirs.

That house is their only possession. Apart from having each other as a family. They survive. Happily so far.

I know she is not the only one. She isn't the worst. 

There are many others who come from broken homes, where there is no food at all on the table. Don't mention of having decent meals, even some bites are impossible. Let alone having some pocket money to spend. Some of them find ways to cover for the hunger by going to the canteen and "share" others' food by hook or by crook. They would normally ask, when ignored or denied, they would snatch the food from their friends' plates. They are normally boys.

Try to put your hungry kids at a table for a couple of hours and ask them to read and concentrate. Ask them to respond. Ask them to communicate, give ideas and find answers. If I were one of the kids, I would have fainted first, then, got up again and puked. I might vomit on the books, on my friends' heads and also on the teacher's feet. For all I know, it is quite impossible to study when you are damn hungry.

"Mummy, when are we going for the holidays?"

"There are many others who cannot even make it to the canteen today, you know?"

"Hah? What is that? What are you talking about, mummy?"

"Oh Sofea..."

Boredom

Excruciating boredom.

When you feel bored, you sense everything is like a pain in the ass. Your heart beats so lazily, you wish that it should stop beating altogether. Your limbs fail to move accordingly, you feel like you have no brain at all in instructing correct movements.You think that you breathe sand instead of air. Even the air around you is now grey in colour. Everything is painfully dull. 

You feel like you are all alone. 

Living in a can. Noisy, packed, suffocating and meaningless.

I am bored today. To the max. I don't feel like doing anything at all. And someone suggested me on updating my blog. She asked me nicely but I shut her request by the most blunt reply I could give her. So she went quiet.

I just do not know where and when the feelings started creeping in. I was fine this morning. But suddenly I felt everything was far-fetched. I felt disoriented. I didn't know the people in front of me, I didn't feel like talking to anyone at all. Even the best ever friend was not in sight when she was standing right in front of my nose.

It was like God has finally taken away altogether that tiny little eagerness left in my heart, dunk straight into an abyss where all the little light available in my eyes is now dead.

And living like a dead person? 

Feeling-less? Ouch! That hurts.

 

 

Best Friends Till Heaven

People question me a lot nowadays. How ridiculous and bizarre their questions are, I entertain their fascinations anyway. Patiently enough, hopefully in the next days to come.

I entertain them with hilarious laughters. A lot.

Curiosity.

That one feeling is often accompanied by evil perceptions. Overshadowed with jealousy. Strengthen with the eagerness to be the one with the most informed knowledge. The knowledge they think could rock their world. 

Their mundane banal world needs some excitements out of people's flaws. This is what we called gossip. Juicy gossips. Who wouldn't like gossiping? But try to be the one who is gossiped. Then you will know how suffocating your life is.

Apart from praying for my kids' well beings and safety, for my husband's unconditional love and constant support, for my parents' health and easiness in their daily chores, for my siblings and their families' happiness...

my prayers go to all my best friends too.

The one who answers people's doubts on my behalf when I've lost words to reply. The one who induces laughters when I get too serious. The one who is always calm and stays positive all along my wacky days. The one who paints me Heaven when I picture life as Hell.

I shall stop explaining about friendship and the relation it brings into my life.

Real friends:

No explanation needed as you will always believe in me.

Love Stories

I revised some language items with my students yesterday.

A single period lesson. The shortest one ever. It was short because we had great fun, cracking jokes and making fun of the newly-found lovebirds in my class.

Other students were rather excited, making naughty sounds when the couple was teased. The kids were so alive. They could even understand the examples illustrated easily when it came to talking about love and some sort of 'forbidden' adult topics.

But, hey, there was no pornographic description whatsoever. No. I didn't go there. Not in a million years with these kids. Not with any kid at all, anyway.

I think these kids are very lucky. A whole lot luckier than me, at least.

Not because they have such a cool English teacher, who at times goes berserk, destructively frenzied and deranged over their stupidity and laziness. And also, not because due to the fact that the English teacher is a gorgeous looking lady (but yeah...with some bumps here and there to hide, I admit the weekly weight-putting anyway...haha).

But because, these kids nowadays can openly share their newly-found love with their teachers. And these teachers, I believe, are rather supportive of them. Unlike during my school days, whoever was in a relationship should go undercover. No coupling was allowed.

No meeting. No dating. Oh, did you mention kissing? That was a big NO! 

The reason?

I think they were scared that this kind of relationship would be an agent of destruction rather than a catalyst of improvement. To us. To our education. To our morale and morality.

But I believe, now that I realize, the more we forbid the kids from doing something they love, the more will they try to put their effort in proving us wrong. They will find ways to glorify their love. 

When openly is forbidden, they will do it secretly. When they think they have no place to share their love stories, they will go so far away, being lost in their new world, just for the sake of wanting to tell the world about their feelings. 

"Are you okay with this coupling thing, teacher?" This one special boy asked me.

"Oh why not? When you have finally found a girl of your dream, love her. Give her your attention. Give her some gifts to show you care. But, respect the boundaries."

"The boundaries? What boundaries?"

"No meeting. No dating. Hah...stop imagining of kissing and touching her!"

"What?! Oh man!"

STOP!

Come on dear. 

Stop being judge and jury, passing judgments about others without you knowing the truth. 

What makes you think that you are hundred percent correct? Even if you think that you have the sixth, seventh or eighth sense, who wants your opinion anyway? Especially about others' flaws?

Don't you think it is terribly unjust to label someone according to your preference and convenience?

The tables might be turned one day. Those whom you hurt today, might be the one who will help you one day. And all those hurtful comments and remarks will be one day just describing you or your kids.

Keep your opinion to yourself.

Be fair in giving advice.

People have feelings.

Even animals too.

The Heartrending Rain

It was a normal day today.

Only that it rained heavily at the end of the hot afternoon. I felt that as if the rain fell in bulk, being forced to fall out of the sky and being pulled down by the high speed gravity. Thank God that the car's roof was still fine and intact.

I glanced at my daughter beside me. She was quiet. She might be lost in her world, wondering whether or not her superhero Sonic Hedgehog would love Amy-whatever-her-full-name-was wholeheartedly. She might be counting how many times the wipers went swishing on the windscreen. She might be thinking about the junk food that she would have had when we reached home.

I wasn't sure but still, I didn't ask. Because I was lost in my world too.

That long glanced however was suddenly stopped by a stalled motorcycle in front of our car. 

"Goodness Gracious! What the hell are you doing that for!"

I felt like I stopped breathing as my foot pushing for the brake. The car had to stop immediately! And my right hand was pressing the car's horn. It went blaring so loud, I thought I had sent the signal alright.

I cursed the motorists in my heart. One for riding in the rain this heavy and not making a stop for safety. Two, for suddenly stopping in the middle of the road where it could cause fatalities.

Then I turned my car to the right and passed them very slowly. My eyes were sharp as I was overwhelmed with anger. I would want to scold them high and low if I could, for giving me such a trouble.

But my eyes caught something so disturbing. And those angry feelings vanished at once, gone with the heavy rain, as fast as the flow of the rain water.

"Oh my God! Oh my God!"

This time around I whispered quietly, but it was loud enough for I knew Sofea could hear me. I just could not understand why bad things could really happen the way they happened. I felt so sad. That was what we called as unfair.

Oh, yes. And who said that life is fair, anyway? Life isn't fair and never was. And sometimes, no, many times in fact, that I questioned God for allowing bad things to happen to good helpless people and at the same time, allowing those snobbish terrible people to live happily, here in His earth.

Ah...yes, here in His earth. Hopefully God, You will grant heaven to those who patiently persevere all hardships given to them. You promised us that. I know for sure You never break Your promises.

I had to continue the journey at once because there were many cars closely following at the back. From the rear mirror, the motorists were struggling to stand straight to save their possessions and to balance the motorcycle at the same time.

Eventually anyway, they lost their balance and they fell down. All of their things were scattered on the middle of the road. Luckily, the traffic was then slowed down. I don't think they were hurt, but they were terribly drenched.

My heart was broken by today's rain. The rain that some people enjoyed so much, coiling themselves in the blankets. Feeling the blissful cold that the rain brought along. My heart ached not simply because the motorists fell down in the rain. Not about the things that went scattered.

And I even felt more disgusted with my previous anger. 

My heart was torn upon seeing: in between of the motorist and his lady passenger, gasping for air, trying  very hard to breathe, in the middle of that heavy rain, breathing the air bubbles and drinking the bulky raindrops, on that fateful motorcycle.....

...there was a tiny baby!

The Ugly Me

Will you still love me

when I turn to be so ugly?

I looked at her. She came out of the treatment room with one hand clenching her waist and the other holding one of her breasts. Her sagging breast. She was plump and of fair complexion. She grinned her teeth as if she was in a whole lot of pain. And her pale face accorded with the look of a patient. I think her age must be around 45 years or more.

She wasn't even disturbed with me staring at her. I was plain rude but she couldn't be bothered. At first, I was attracted to her boldness of walking at the emergency waiting room without wearing a bra. But then, I quickly noticed something striking. She kept massaging the bra-less breast. The one on the right if I am not mistaken. And the grinned teeth. She must be in terrible pain!

With her were her kids. Two girls and a boy. They were all young. And happy. They were joyous as if they were celebrating something. The boy was jumping around the mother, occasionally holding a pose for one of the sisters to snap their pictures from the handphone. From what I heard (oh, obviously...I was eavesdropping too!), the mother was discharged with other treatments as follow-ups. 

Ha... the kids were reunited with the sick mother. However much pain inflicted on the woman, I think, the mother would feel very much better with the presence of her loved ones. She would not need any medication for that. Slowly they went away. Out of the emergency room to their car, I supposed.

Then, this whole scene made me thinking. Something moved me here. 

The woman looked so strong with that sick face. She walked so slowly but she did not ask for help. She grinned but laughed at the same time. And...there was no sign of a man's help around. The kids were unaccompanied by other adults. They were young, independent and fine. But I was pretty sure, all they wanted was their mother to be with them.

The sagging breasts. The pale face. The unkempt hair. The shabby shirt. How can you be beautiful in that condition? But truly, beauty does not come in between the love of a mother and her kids. Unconditional love. Pure. Serene.

"Do you love me, kakak?"

 I always ask Sofea this question. She always answers a 'yes' as quickly as she can. More of like a drill.

"Do you think I'm pretty?"

"Aaaaaa....."

Oh no! That long pause with her rolling eyes!

"Hey! If you don't say that I'm pretty, I will not buy you toys anymore!"

I love you so much dear. Unconditionally.

CRUEL

"Why are you so cruel?"

 "It wasn't my decision, anyway."

 "But they said we could choose the person we want..."

I smiled meekly over her complaint. I knew she was frustrated. But I was neither in the mood to argue nor to advise this girl in front of me. She came to me when I was alone, waiting for a friend to go to the canteen for our big breakfast. The morning was drizzly and the school was noisy and packed, with students waiting for their turns of photo shooting.

She too, came by herself, alone without her entourage. So unlikely her. As if she was going to discuss something really serious. When she saw me smiling unwillingly, her face went sour. She provoked me even more by saying it was my preplanned actions in seeing her request to be rejected. Oh dear. If she said that jokingly, I would have agreed to that idea instantly. But she looked so damn serious that I wouldn't dare to break her heart into even smaller pieces. 

"Your mentor is way better than me in many aspects. You should be thankful," 

 "No. I don't believe you anymore now,"

Truthfully, she was right. I don't even know who her mentor is. Even if I do, I might not have the faintest idea on what her mentor's plan would be. She might be ignored by the mentor altogether. So, I could be lying just now.

She was still standing there, in front of me waiting for my answer. Her face dimmed with dissatisfaction and I was totally perplexed. As far as I could remember, I wasn't close with her until she could make this as a big issue. I was never her confidant and we hardly talked about anything at all! So, why on earth she was asking me as her mentor? I cleared my throat and said this:

"Ok dear, you will definitely be thankful one day for this. I am not good in taking care of people's feelings. You will be better off with that teacher. I have been given mine, and those bunch of kids, your friends, might be the unlucky lots. You will be fine. Don't worry."

She was still looking straight into my eyes. The eye contact! Some guts this girl had! Oh my goodness! And she was still waiting for something.

"You are not suicidal over this matter, are you?" I said that jovially, trying to kill the boredom.

"Of course not, teacher." Seriously.

"Ok, I'd better go. I need to go to the canteen now. My friend is waiting for me. Are you ok with that?"

She smiled and walked away. I will remember that smile. Forever. Oh, maybe not. But still, maybe for a long while. 

I think she blamed me for her unhappiness.

I will take that blame. 

Why?

I don't even know what her name is!

Love Is In The Air

Love is in the air.

Definitely.

I feel God's love at the moment.
He gives me this pain.
The pain that I know all too well.
So, He does remember me!
Woohoo! Yeay!
This might be a way of Him fogiving me.
Or punishing me altogether for all my ridiculous sins.
I love you too, God. You know I do.
How can I not love You, when I depend so much on You?
I walk on Your earth, talk to Your other creations,
I dream of Your dreams and I love you simply because...
I breathe Your air, remember? I breathe Your air in the body You lend me.
So God, can You please allow me to use my tongue once again,
without any pain this time around?
We will talk about the punishments a little bit later in the other life, ya?

"With this pain, I grant you comfort. With this patience, I grant you heaven"
I think I want to believe those are Your promises.
Aren't they, God?

How can I not reciprocate to such a promise?

Love is in the air.

Till Deaths Do Us Part

I've been bugged down by this viral fever for 4 days now. Each day successfully passed by ignoring the pain, the temperature that shot high once in a while, especially at night. My dearest husband was caught by the annoying virus first, at his office, maybe through his boss, if my recollection is correct. He tried to fight the fever too, only surrendered when I suggested him for a check up at a clinic near our house. The night trip to the clinic as I remember, wasn't that long but the clinic was fully packed, with kids and adults.

"Everyone is sick, everyday. Every single day." I told my 5B students. This is my class, I am their form teacher. I've been handling them since last year. So I know them by heart now. I know their antics, I know their parents' antics too. I know their strengths, as much as I know their weaknesses, although they wish I do not know them too much, fearing that I would use any information about them against them. I was particularly pissed off that day when two boys kept disappearing from school and used health as their excuses. Frankly, one was saying he had migraine every alternate day and the other one had problems with his toe. One particular toe. Excuses. 

"You just need to find ways to stay healthy. When you are sick, cure the sickness so that you can be well again. Or if you refuse to be cured, ignore the pain and face the world as if you are well, the healthiest person on earth. Either way, think first before you skip your school."

I think I said that to the class. My class attendance was quite ugly for February with these kids ignoring excuse letters from parents and no MC whatsoever when they were absent. I told them that with a pinch of seriousness on my face, hopefully they would get the message. I hope they did.

As I type this, I have the option to go to the clinic and ask for a medical leave. I am unwell. But, thinking of the kids at school, the long awaiting list of undone work, and of course, thinking of the people I promise of working together tomorrow, I shall set aside the pain. The pain can be ignored again at the moment.

My bluebird of happiness is sick too. She is going to skip school. The difference between this bird and those two boys is vast. First, she is 6. The boys are 17. My bird still has a long way to go. The boys are going to finish their schooling soon. And this bird does not know how to lie yet. She is ill, we went to a specialist and the specialist asked her to rest. The boys? I am yet to see their approval of absenteeism.

Please boys,

My dearest boys.

I love you like my own brothers.

I know your potential, but the potential is denied by the masters who are simply lazy.

Come to school.

Everyday.

When you are well.

Coz when I am slightly unwell, I will still come to school.

Hoping that only deaths do us part.

Between blog and nose block

It is one of the hottest days that we normally have now. And I feel cold. I have nose block at the moment. And my two chipmunks, the munchiest of the munches, are trying to discourage me from doing things that I don't really wanna do. But I still do. What the heck...hahaha...I love to complicate easy things. To put some thrills, as if life is too dull, too stagnant that I need to torture myself into doing things that I don't  really like doing.

Blogging.

No. This is so not me.

I don't blog.

I am no blogger.

Hahaha.

There is one person on this beautiful world really thinks that I should blog. She is indeed persistent. Always encouraging and positively calm when it comes to handling my insane replies and rants on why I shouldn't do as told.

Coz I am difficult.

She is the easy one.

She accepts things around her more willingly than I do.

I always question. I have questions for every answer given.

But often, I fail to answer every question asked.

She is the best of friends that I have.

She draws me near when I go so far astray, away in the dark.

She shows the light when I am sure there is no hope available.

She is a lender... of things and ideas she abundantly has,

Of shoulders and back to support me up,

And of course, she lends me her love that gradually brings me to this writing.

I dedicate my writing to those who believe in me.

I dedicate this blog for you.

With love.

Definitely.