Dear D

Being Single

I am going to be very blunt about this, fed up of bidding around the bush trying to make a point but sadly no one understands me. I've been told so many times to COMPARTMENTALISE, WTH, am a woman. If my mind all fuzzy, be it. If I nag just a little too much, so what. If I'm been cranky, let me be, am not some Royal Highness Princess, so don't care if I show you my true colours. I ain't that ugly, you know.

So what have I been doing lately? A lot of stuff actually. But our highlight will be on my new marital status. Yes, I am divorced. And I am not proud of it, just feeling sick inside that I've to let it out. Bad girl, Ida.

Being a divorcee or let me loosely use the scandalous term here, JANDA, is a hellish experience, especially when your ex is being the whinning baby. Yea..yea...I complain, throw tantrums and have my mood swings, but I try not to bother others or make others feel shitty. Still I am not perfect.

Any plus points about being a divorcee? Yeah, few..one of it would be you get the bed all to yourself, but dang, I hate sleeping on stone cold bed all by myself. (Where's the strong manly arm to cushion my head?) So now the girls are taking charge (of the bed) and I sleep (on weekends) on my Yoga mat. The strain from 5 days of labouring wrestling with copies and kids and the stupid traffic jam, plus the snail pace Internet at work are draining out every drop of womanly goodness I have in me. I am whithering, very fast. God help me.

The kids? Coping pretty badly. Sarah, especially. She is sooo wanna be with her daddy in Sabah (yeah, the guy's got more moolah than I do, not to mention his easy going-hey-eat-and -sleep-in-front-of-the-TV attitude). I am rather rigid, or one dude used to dub me as 'frigid'. What does he know about frigidity? No sex makes a poor woman to turn cold? Hell no. (Checking). Am still OK and 'able'. Hahaha...stop visualising!

Where was I...oh the kids, the 2 boys have been unceremoniously taken away by the ex. I am too lazy to challenge his wish, let it be until the court decides. Oh dear the court...

I reckon hiring a legal assistant will definitely burn a hole in my pocket. What reckoning, it is a FACT. I tell ya, with the rate of people divorcing nowadays, the legal 'business' is surely a lucrative venture. Can you see your children's career path now? Kidding.

Coming back to the court thingy. Damn. I've not much to spare for legal pursue, but if I don't seek justice then I'll be damned. I just want my rights respected, hey, enslaved myself for 10 years plus, you know. Within that period, I popped out 4 kids, all I guess resemble him or his kins. But Adam has so much talents in music and arts (just like my Ayah)...he is good at sketching comic strips.

Pause. Change mode. Melancholic background music:

I trully miss my boys. Adam, I wonder what are you doing now. Since you've changed school, I wonder who stitches your school badges and nametags on your shirts? Who plastic wraps your books - wonder if you still keep the workbooks I bought for you when the semester reopened recently. I wonder if you still keep your Scout uniform- can you still identify your cap, scarf, belt and shirt? Remember I've stiched your initial "A" in red. Do you still have them boy? Adam, I am sorry that bapak terminated your piano lessons, I was furious because it was me who made the effort to find you proper lesson and it was Me who have been religiously paying for your fees. Remember, every Thursday night at 8.30-9.00pm mummy and your siblings used to hang around Ampang Point waiting for you? Do you remember the cafe just next to the Yamaha School that we used to have dinner before your class? I can still feel the joy of watching you enjoying your Nasi Lemak tak de sambal just lotsa nuts. Adam, you are my eldest boy...I love you so much. I wish you have a wonderful time there in Sabah, but please don't forget mummy here. Never forget your solat and mengaji, be prepared to offer me doa when I'm not around in this world. I am soooo proud of you, son. You are the most brilliant and patient Origami 'folder' I've ever known...junior category. I truly hope your new cowboy life in Sabah won't steal away such gifts you have. They are good folks in Sabah, your bapak too, sometimes... if the 'angin' is favourable. Oh yes, I still keep the ring you presented to me recently, but sorry today I forgot to put it on. I realised it when I was on my way to work...Sorry kid.

In similar mode, perhaps with most heart-wrenching background music:

Ben - my Ah Chai, why you look so Chinese? You are my baby boy, I miss you so badly. There's someone here who loves talking about you, he's been trying to make a pact with mumy to take you away with him, with a promise of unconditional love and attention and everything nice, but hell no he is gonna get you. No way jose. But that's not my point here. Ben, I still sleep with your red and orange toy cars. I sniff your shirts almost every night. I talk to your photo. I've one at the office (Oh dear, now I feel so bad living it in the darkness of my office). I love that pic, Uncle W thinks you look pretty much like bapak, minus the goggles, but I don't think so. I'll fight to get you back, Ben. I miss you too much. Please put on your shoes when you are playing outside and never ever go near the muddy pond in Atuk's backyard. And please, don't bother them chickens, OK. Oh yes, beware of them stray dogs that always come avisit. How I wish to keep an eye on you, darling....:-(

Ahhh... let's go back to our conversation just now, oh yes, being divorce. What's the big deal when there's an average of 39 cases per month, just at that particular court in Kajang? Wonder what is the world gonna be? Scary. Hence, fearful of falling in love again. But I don't intend to celebate foreva, nak mati?

I am exhausted, someone told me to go to sleep, Yup, he is damn right. To sleep I will go now. Tomorrow is another wonderful day. Oh yes, changed my relationship status on FB today, yes call me dumb, but am so fed up of people associating me with the ex. I am not his little wifey anymore, yes we looked perfect together, but that's just the surface. I know I loved him, devoted to him for at least 6 years until I saw the signs. Them signs were pretty heartbreaking ones. But I am not going to discuss about that tonite...am tired.

I need to sleep and dream of my kids....with Mr. X? Hey, get outta my dream, get into my life, dude! Nite nite...

The Thing Called Ego

We grew up together, met her at the nursery of Fatima Hospital in January 1976. We were close, but there was a period when we couldn't see eye to eye. In her early 20's, she was alone. She was surrounded by a circle of people who she called friends. Sigh...I was suspicious as I knew she wasn't happy, she partied almost every night but didn't enjoy it. I tried to talk to her but she wouldn't listen. She ignored me.

Then one night, I dreamt of her. I saw sorrow in her eyes, I could hear that her heart was racing. She was afraid and confused for her future in jeopardy. She was sorry for she had to drag innocent people into her troubles. She didn't mean it. I knew she yearned to end it, but she hadn't the strength to torture herself with the great wrath of the Almighty.

Then, came the proposal to end the troubles. She was unsure for she's been saving her heart for another who was patiently waiting. She refused to see things through. She had her reasons. I know.

Time lapse. A decade after. She has changed. Grown, experienced...a woman. But still, tormented by troubles. She told me that was the last straw that broke the camel's back. Well, I guess it has really broken her into so many parts. Shattered, her pride, trust, dreams, happiness and all. I know what actually happened. The blood was real, the pain unbearable. Traumatised. But never defeated.

I've seen her in tears so many times, between sobs, pleading the Almighty to protect her from lamenting her sorry life. I know she's moving on, even though rather slowly, still a few inches better than yesterday. At this point, we patched things up. We are one.

Tales from the other side of the meadow are the outcome of intricate weave of deceit and hatred. One will go the extra mile to protect his name, even though blatantly one is guilty. It is funny how feeble minded people can buy such tales and refuse to see the crux of the problem. If legally it ain't right, then how I wonder, can it be a pemissible thing in this situation? The piercing words of a woman cannot slay a man. Can the pain of the wound she's enduring compensate the pride of a man who has been challenged? I begged her to forgive and forget. She refused. Hell has no fury like a woman scorned.

I spoke to her just now. She's in control.Years ago, I've made her promise to tell the truth. Now she is free from the burden of her own lies. "No lies", she said. "No twisting of stories to paint a clean image of myself", she assured me. Good girl, I said, don't get yourself tangled in your own lies.

What will tomorrow be for her? I say, very bright for she's more certain of the route to travel. No more carrying a heavy burden of sour grapes to kill her spirit.

Soar high in the sky, girl. Flap your wings like a champion, you don't have to move the mountain, but scale up to the peak and yoddle lay hee hooo.

We are one. I know her story. It ain't another sad love story. It's about a woman's struggle to rebuild her life after it has been destroyed by the thing called EGO.

Getting Married Again?

There's trouble at home. Yea, I've been crying, beating my chest sometimes like a distraught Arab woman. Can you visualise it? You really think I would ever do that? Smile.


I've been spending my weekends at my cousin's crib on the 15th floor. When the kids are away with their bapak for the weekends, hell I need to simply get away from...from the ugly reality, I suppose?


I love spending time with Nyah Ana and her beautiful girls AJ and MJ, Ben the hubby is a pilot, so he is always away on duty. I am blessed to have my loved ones- family and friends to support me, to just listen and not be judgemental. Sometimes it is just too much for a woman's heart to handle, but then there is nothing that a woman can't handle. In fact God Almighty has promised to only burden us with problems bareable by our mortal hearts and minds. Hey, I am cool. Grin.


So if going solo is going to be like a walk in the park, why the hell did I choose that book (in the pic up there), out of hundreds of books exhibited during a book fair last weekends? Oh yes, I was also frantically looking for 'Chicken Soup for a Divorcee', but too bad it was out stock (thank God, I was not the only one in this mall with this problem!). And later I eyed for another book entitled, "Single Men", so apt. I took another title just to cover up. I was happy that I managed to dig out 3 books to take up the RM30 for 3 offer. Then Nyah Ana approached me, a laughing away.


"Ondek, apo tang buku kao ambik? Gata udah?", she giggled on. (OMG! What books are you buying, cheeky?). We usually converse in broken Rawa.


There were some kuailos sheepishly smiling at me too. No they were NOT checking on me. I wasn't too desperate to think otherwise! They saw the books in my hands.


So I figured, what the hell. Remarrying ain't my aim in life. I have to build my life again, with the kids minus a man to call my own. If I have to lead a sexless life till I am grey and old, be it. I know I am loved, and I am contented to know that I am capable of loving someone. Ah well, life's too wonderful to just sigh and sigh till you have nothing to sigh about.


I am going through shit. Nothing is certain yet, legally. But the heart has decided. For all the pain and anguish, I seek protection from God. He is Omnicient, He knows the truth. Ain't gonna talk about it ever again. Fed up.



So what's up with the books? Nah, nothing. Just responding to my state of mind at that moment. I chucked them books away. I don't need a guidebook to find another man. I don't need to succumb to the sudden attack of loneliness. Why the hell for? When I've so much love to share with those who respect my eccentric, hard headed self.


I am letting go, I know I am not losing anything.


Then, I woke up!

Someone's Sleeping in My Bed

I had to work late the other day, went home at half past 3 am. I hate to drive alone deep into the night. My mind was plagued by all sorts of dreadful and eerie images of the unknown. I simply detest watching horror movies, the scary images seem to stick to my mind, and they keep on bugging me. Sometimes I thought I could hear voices. There were times when I felt someone's watching me. Fiddlesticks, I know.

Ascending the floors was a lonely ride, I leaned my body against the furthest end of the elevator, hoping to feel secured. I prayed hard for an uninterrupted climb, for I was not ready to face whatever or whoever looking straight at me if the doors suddenly open.

"Just take me to the 5th floor," I pleaded. I just needed to go home- to kiss my loved ones belated 'good night', rest my weary head on my favourite pillow and tuck myself under the warmth of my duvet. It is good to be surrounded by things so familiar to you.

As I pushed the door open, total darkness greeted upon me. I did not attempt to switch on the lights for I did not want to humiliate myself, "this is MY home, I am familiar with every nook and cranny here", said my alter ego.

I saw a glimmer of light at the end of the corridor, all of the rooms were pitch dark but one, the kids were already in bed, the faint light came from my room, the door was left ajar. It was rather unusual really, for normally the kids would sleep with their bed lights on. I also wondered why the door was not wide open like usual.

I was very much disturbed by the change of the circumstances. Now the familiarity of my home was somehow, stirred. Thus, I dashed straight to the lighted room.

I pushed the door effortlessly, scanned through the room till my eyes reached the bed. I gasped.

There she was sleeping in my bed.

My eyes traced the silhouette of the figure in slumber, cradled by the warmth of my bed. Her youthful cheek was resting on my favourite pillow. Her cherry lips were smiling, perhaps she was dreaming the sweetest dream of all.

I braved myself to get close to her. I could smell the sweet scent of my perfume. Simply intoxicating. Her skin...simply flawless, obviously not beaten by years yet. Her glorious mane tossed brilliant shine to the ambiance, a far cry from the limpy, bleached mop I have been carrying on my head for years.

Her youthful figure...I was like this a decade ago. I could imagine how she would strut her feminity proudly, because I did that too. No doubt men would adore sweet young things especially like this one. Many, including this one who was sleeping next to her now.

How could they. Not on my bed. At least, respect my space. This is MINE.

I tip-toed closer. I was ready to pounce on them. I drew my lips close to her cheek. Tears streaming down my cheeks. It was simply heart breaking.

"I am sorry to have kept you waiting, sayang...", I kissed her flawless cheek.

She is only going to be 10 this year, but she's already blossoming into a young woman. She is a keen observer of my every move. Sometimes she tries on my clothes and shoes. She enjoys painting her face with my make up. She loves my perfumes too.

I did not want to wake her up, neither did I want to wake the young men sleeping next to her.

I was home late, the kids have conquered my bed. Sarah, Adam and Ben...all three of them tucked under the warmth of my duvet.

Now where were the other two? Hubby and Didi, the youngest in the gang?

There they were, sleeping on the 'Toto', at the foot of the bed. I joined them of course. The pillows were all taken. I did not mind. I am content with having my head rested on the firm arm of my man.

This is home for me.