Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Bits and pieces

I'm jotting down random thoughts (yang tiada kena mengena dgn yang hidup atau mati) which I might incorporate in my short stories/novels later.

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So we spoke of minibuses and street hawkers.

They have long gone, I said.Not without a sense of sadness.

30 years.Her parents had all migrated and lived with her and her family downunder.She never returned after graduation.And after meeting her love match.

This was the same girl who lent me her winter coat in the midst of a mild winter of a country so far away.And took me around and showed me the alien city she called hers.Her boyfriend (then boyfriend) tagged along and displayed equal warmth, equal hospitality.

30 years down the road, I never forgot either of them.And who would have guessed it took only a click of an "Enter" to reconnect.And continued where we left.A friendship based on innocence.Bordering on a need for a common identity.We were Malaysians abroad.

Ivy married a local Chinese.I married a local Malay.In a way, we never left home.Our race home.

She showed me pictures of her family members.The two boys.Me, my only girl.Next to her, a picture without a head.A hole.Sani's.

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You go fly kite! (in my anger)

Why are you so angry?

Talk to my hand.

And we went separate ways.

It was that easy.

A day later, he text-ed me: YOU go fly your kite now!
My anger had become his.

Was it that easy?

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Lyn and I decided we had enough of being women.

Let's just go away.

So we checked into a honeymoon suite meant for newly weds and lovers.

Because the room gave us value for money: free breakfast for two, free scuba diving, free snorkelling, free boatrides.

We got stares from those who thought we were two old lesbians.From some Greek island.We giggled all the way to a waiting boat.

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I'm here if you need me, Miss Bao private messaged me on facebook.
Thanks.I know you have been to me and survived, I wrote back.
Yoga, she said.

It's haram in Islam.
Dinz said it made her feel good.She's looking well these days.We'd have dinner in a bit.A lot to catch up with.News of the latest acquisition.A hamster.A kitten.A stray cat.What is left in this world to make us happy.We do not need a talking (back) partner.Both laughed hysterically.

Kassim left her months ago.I left Sani a fortnight yesterday.Call it a leaving game.An urban Malay couple's leaving game.We were becoming like the Hollywood stars.

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Handbags.Shoes.The branded ones were all his gifts to me.When we were still very much in love.And married. People said we looked good together.We never aged like other aged couples did.Give us your secret recipe, said one.I gave him my favourite cake.A way to a man's heart is through food, I said.In those days, I made time to bake.Roast.Grill.Sani loved eating.

He bought me things which would make me happy.

Those shoes.And those handbags.Now Lyn's.

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When Lyn had bruises from her possessive husband, I would be the first she'd call.

"Joy (ah), he did it again."

"I told you to leave him."

"I love him."

"This is not love. Lyn.This is attempted murder.Walk away."

"Not that easy.The kids, the house, the car, the shares."

I rolled my eyes till you'd see the whites.

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Ivy and I met for coffee one Summer she returned home.Just missing old friends.

I have problem coping with aging, she said.

You've come to the wrong person, I laughed.

And the whole afternoon was spent discussing our peri-menopausal conditions. We had fun.We did not look one bit we were peri-menopausal.

"Ohh..it's so good coming home. Being with you, Joy(ah).I hadn't laughed for so long."

"I thought you were happy living in the quietness of downunder."

"Not the outdoor type.Alan is."

And she thought of Sani.How would he cope with his breakfasts and dinners, she wondered.I was always there.Packed lunch and all.The goodbye kisses before work.The huggings.The teasings and secret coded conversations infront of mothers in law.

"Joy(ah), you think of Sani now?" Ivy was sharp.

"I do.Not easy to forget someone you first fell in love with and had a child with."

"What were both of you so angry about?"

Talk to my hand.

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Miss Bao rang to say she was coming to KL. She needed to do her yoga with me.

I smelled trouble.She and Pierre.
I took Miss Bao to the same island Lyn and I were a month ago. We stood by the beach and watch tiny anchovies jumped in a group, as though chasing the high tide.Miss Bao screamed in delight,saying she had never seen something so beautiful.Back in Hanoi, she lived by the lake.I had never seen anything as beautiful as her lake home.You always want something which is not yours,Miss Bao philosophised.

Then she told me about Pierre.

I was there when they first met.At a jazz club.He wrote her a poem saying the moment you walked in the door,I knew you were the one for me.I laughed because I knew it was from Bobby.The Hindi movie everyone could not forget in the 1970s.Miss Bao was not impressed.She was already in a deep relationship with someone.I was there too when she met him.Why do you think Miss Bao wanted to do her yoga in KL with me? We were that close.

He is suing me out of spite.Copyright matters.
Oh oh.Not another twisted love. So what are you going to do about it?
I don't know.
Can't you negotiate it peacefully? Professionally?
I tried.

And we continued to walk along the sandy beach, absorbing the air,the breeze,the sound of waves.We were both quiet with our own thoughts.

It was my work,he published it.I went to Sydney and the organiser (my ex) published some work without his permission.

(to be continued.Pls buy the novel when it's done.Ni iklan je.Harap maaf.)

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