Saturday, January 31, 2009

Interlude: Wait a While

They say the higher progesterone level running through the system wreaks emotional havoc on some hapless pregnant women. Some become easily antsy, annoyingly needier or discover that their tear ducts have a life of their own. In my case, I'm presently relegated to the third group (although there were prolonged relapses into the other two categories).

Recently, I found my eyes leaking after watching Petronas' latest Festive commercial for Chinese New Year. While reading Cecilia Ahern's book, PS. I Love You, I got all choked up. Any reading materials - blogs included - were not spared from my weepy bouts.

Lately, songs begin to get to me too. A heart-wrenching movie soundtrack, even a slow number called "It's Time to Wake up' from Johnny & The Sprites fell victim to this new lachrymose habit.

A fortnight ago, a particular song entered the recesses of my mind and refused to leave. Whenever I croon parts of the song that I know, I would cry. It reminds me of the times whenever the other half leaves for an overseas assignment. Sappy me.

One of my favourite P. Ramlee's songs, but for the life of me, I couldn't remember the movie from which I heard it. Yesterday, I managed to find out it was from one of my least favourite P. Ramlee's movie, Sarjan Hassan, a patriotic vehicle starring P.Ramlee, Saadiah and Jins Samsudin. Without further ado, here's the lyric* and video for your viewing and listening pleasure.



Tunggu Sekejap
-----------

Tunggu sekejap wahai kasih
Kerana hujan masih renyai

Tunggu sekejap
Dalam pelukan asmaraku

Jangan bimbang
Walaupun siang akan menjelma

Malam ini
Belum puas ku
Bercumbu dengan dinda/kanda

Tunggu sekejap wahai kasih
Tunggulah sampai hujan teduh

Mariku dendang
Jangan mengenang orang jauh

Jangan pula
Jangan tinggalkan daku seorang

Tunggu sekejap
Tunggu







Let's hope I will be a little less lachrymose in the next trimester.


*the lyric differs from Rafeah Buang's rendition. Some lines are rather provocative for that time, I must say.

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

A Labour of Love

What are your criteria for marrying a person? Or does it boil down to one overriding criterion?

Is it something material like wealth, money and connection? The more Datuks and Dato' Seris in that family, the better.

Is it something spiritual like a religious outlook, Islamic values and an emphasis on the Hereafter? The more time spent in the masjeed or musolla, the better.

Or is it something fleeting like beauty and other coveted physical attributes?

Or is the other person's cerebral enough for one's cultured taste and able to sate one's natural curiousity?

Or is it the generosity of his heart, the tender loving care and the promise of a lifetime of unconditional affection?

So what does make one a strong prospective partner? The permutations are endless, as is the complexity of a person's mind.

I have come upon a case where a besotted lass faced the biggest humiliation of her life when the entourage of her fiancé-to-be failed to show up on the appointed date of engagement. The reason given, at least implicitly, was due to her brothers' excessive gambling reputation. In a small Kampung setting, connection that would defile the lineage of a proud family is more important than the feelings of two people involved.

How about the story of a Malay lad who has to marry the girl of his family's choice back in the village? Sounds very Bollywood-like, but in this day and age - or ten years back when it took place - arranged marriages still endure. This was despite him having fallen for another girl whom he had met while working in KL. Family obligation and being the firstborn come first. The poor girl's heart, needless to say, was crushed.

Speaking of Bollywood, some Mamak (Indian Muslim of Tamil descent) clans continue to practice arranged marriages among close families, where childhood betrothal is the norm. As expected, this helps in preserving the Mamak bloodline from being diluted from interracial marriages. A Mamak guy of my peer, married his betrothed, even after seriously entertaining the thoughts of having a Malay girlfriend.

The silly, idealistic girl in me has always thought love would conquer all. Nothing could be further from the truth.

Family objection, preservation of lineage, reputation and old money, and numerous other narrow perceptions eschew all possibility for love to rise to the occasion.

Now I understand the meaning of my mom's words when she imparted the following : Not everyone gets to marry their first love.

And yet, in the greater scheme of things, one finds the faith and courage to accept that some things are not meant to be. Naturally, you feel rejected, even angry at this callous treatment. Later, as reality sets in, you bawl your eyes out until you are reduced to painful convulsions.

In spite of all the heartaches, you somehow manage to crawl out of the abyss and stumble upon someone who is worthy of your affection and love. You hold the faith to carry on.

It matters not if you marry your first love. It matters when the person has the will and strength to hold on during the peaks and troughs of your life together. That should be the litmus test of your love. Your prospective partner.

On that note, I want to wish my only brother the best of luck following his engagement to the girl of his dream, Awin, last January 17th. After some unsuccessful hitches, he has finally found someone who accepts his medical condition - renal dialysis - and a supportive family to boot. I only got to meet her that day and already I'm getting good vibes.

Please take care of one another. Be steadfast in your commitment and always nurture an open and honest relationship in your union. InsyaAllah, everything will fall into place as God has intended.

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

My Springy Sprog

It's only fitting to start the new year on a positive note. Hence, this post on a loved one. And what is more apt than showcasing the little girl who has been the center of our universe for close to three years now.

With Sadia's birthday around the corner in about a month's time, I am more inclined to share some milestones, developments and her other idiosyncrasies.

She is full of vocabulary. Apart from uttering polysyllabic words like 'migration', 'decoration' and 'invitation', there have been a series of unexpected phrases such as "Let's build it together", "You want to have tea party with me?", "I don't like this kind", "Everyone, buckle up" and our favourite, "What's the big idea?". We chalk this affinity for English words up to her 24/7 exposure to the PlayhouseDisney channel. She does speak Malay, albeit mixed up with English. For instance, she still doesn't know how to count in Malay, but she can easily count in English up to Number 15.

She's more clingy than ever, for obvious reasons. Ever since she experienced recurring episodes of toothache late last year, she had technically been weaned off. Her two front teeth, which have disappeared from sight many moons ago, developed an infection and had caused us several sleepless nights with her incessant crying out of excruciating pain. She had even implored, in between sobs, for us to buy her new teeth. Poor little Sadia. With the absence of usual physical comfort, she has become easily weepy and wanted me to be as close to her as possible. It makes cooking next to impossible! I know she is in a hard place now, having to abruptly come to terms that my mammaries are off limits. Somehow, I too miss our 'bonding' sessions. While I'm grateful the weaning came about, it's the manner in which it transpired that left me wanting. In time, we both will adjust.

She is inherently bossy. It's probably hard for a mother to admit this about her kid, but I have no qualms whatsoever. Sadia is indeed one bossy kid. We have countlessly humoured her commands and orders to play Ring-Around-The-Rosy, London Bridge, Hide-and-Seek, and so forth. She couldn't care less if we are doggone tired. And every single time the Little Einsteins' theme song is on, we have to stand, sing and clap along with her. The same goes for Mickey Mouse Clubhouse anthem and closing song. Time to get her into playschool, methinks!

She has the knack of getting her legs in a twist. I don't know if it has anything to do with her tendency to stand on her tippytoe, but Sadia would always get her legs tangled up, be it standing up or sitting down. The wires that connect the television to the CD player and the sliding mechanism underneath the passenger seat of our car are the usual suspects. We would put away items or get them out of the way lest they might attract the jerking movement of her legs. I do wonder if she's following the footsteps of her klutzy Mama.

She has a keen interest in arts and music. With respect to the former, I am not sure if it is a fleeting interest. Knowing how artistically-inclined her father is (and was in school), I am nonetheless more than eager to encourage this hobby. She even asked for a water colour paint box and a paintbrush in order to mimic Noddy's painting attempt in one episode. On Monday, she picked out magic markers from IKEA for another colouring project. I believe she's more interested in experimenting with the various drawing materials and their ensuing results. As for music, she can differentiate among many musical instruments thanks to Little Einsteins. I mean, she didn't hesitate to correct me if I had mixed trombone up from trumpet!




On the domestic front, we bought her a toddler bed back in mid-December in preparation for both the new baby and planned weaning. However, she has yet to sleep on the bed, uninterrupted. Whenever I put her on it at night, she would roll back into our bed which conveniently adjoins hers. With the weaning off, I am hopeful she would get used to it soon. She has a few months to practice anyway.


As for my expecting, Sadia still refers to the growing fetus as 'Mama's baby'. She has yet to grasp the concept of her being a sister. A big sister. Kakak. It's a slow process, but we will get there together. In the meantime, I am busy entertaining the whims and fancies of one demanding and clingy tot. My precious flower*.



*Sadia means Flower.