The Sound of Silence

I learned some time ago that silence has a sound.

It was late in the night and I was getting myself ready for bed. It was quiet all around when I started to hear the sound. A distinct high pitch which wouldn't go away even when I cupped my ears. I thought nothing of it and found it rather comforting to hear it in the darkest of nights.

But recently, the same sound of silence came to me in the broad daylight in a crowded restaurant. Only it was obviously louder as it rose above the din of chatters and clutter of cutleries on the plates.

I was nauseated and felt lightheaded. I lied down on a bench and closed my eyes hoping that the sound would leave me. What is this sound? Go away!!

But it wouldn't. It stayed in my ear like parasite. Alas, it was never the sound of silence that I heard. It  is and had always been tinnitus; I just didn't know it.

The Sound of Silence - Simon & Garfunkel

Wonderful Tonight

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It was a warm Sunday afternoon. We were walking unhurried past a public square towards the undergound station. Waiters at the restaurants surrounding the square were busy serving patrons dining alfresco.

A local band was playing at a corner complete with drum set and the whole works. Just as we passed them, a pair of teenage girls started belting Eric Clapton's Wonderful Tonight.

I stopped in my tracks, so did my companion. We walked closer to the band. Their voice werent exactly the best, but we just stood there, humming along. We were enjoying the simplicity of it all. Raw music, great weather, friendly neighbourhood. And of course one of my favourite songs.

The song ended and we made our way to the station. My companion asked me, why do you like that song?

I dont know what he expected to hear. That a tall dark and handsome guy had sang it to me? That I danced to the tune with the most romantic man? That those words were whispered to me once upon a time? Since none of those were true, I said, I dont know why.

Almost a year has now passed. Each time I hear the song, my memory takes me back there. I still dont have the answer... But I guess I like it more now because it takes me back there.
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Be Happy

A woman asked her middle-aged friend. You have a body of an 18yr old. There is hardly any line on your face. What's your secret?

Others in the group were expecting the usual tirade of balanced diet, enough sleep, exercise, avoid the sun, yada yada yada. Instead, she answered:

Be happy. Look for happiness. Don't wait for it to come to you. And happiness doesn't only come packaged in a man. Its everywhere and anywhere. You just need to be sensitive to your surroundings and the people in it. Now, even if those don't keep you trim, at least you are happy!!

Decisions...decisions...

Three years on…

A friend spoke of his current predicament of being stuck between a rock and a hard place. It was 3 years since I wrote that piece and now I shared it with him. Maybe it helps, maybe it doesn’t. From recent lessons, I have learned that some people actually find useful the experiences that I share with them. So I have decided to share. His choice is to use or discard.

We are often stuck with the worry of making the wrong decisions. But is there really ever a wrong decision? For that matter, is there really ever a right decision? We make our choices based on information we know or what we think we know. These may be logical, and may also be emotional. What do we know of its consequences when there are so many variables present surrounding each decision?

A reasonable person does not make decisions with intent to hurt others.

A reasonable person does not knowingly make decisions which would make him/her worse off.

A reasonable person would not knowingly make decisions which would put people he cares for in disadvantageous position.

And we all think that we are reasonable people.

But even with the best of intentions, we do hurt others. We do become worse off from time to time. We do put our loved ones in disadvantageous positions. Does that mean we made bad decisions?

At other times, consequences of our decisions are that we give joy to ourselves and others. We help ease another’s burden. We get our loved ones overcome obstacles. Do those mean that we made good decisions?

Not so! They are merely decisions. Period. Their outcomes may be partially within our power to determine. But while we may think that we are more or less in control, there are millions other decisions being made at the same time by others totally (or rather, seemingly) unconnected to us which affect the outcome of ours.

It’s ok to pat ourselves in the back for happy outcomes as it makes us feel good.  But we must stop beating up ourselves for making ‘wrong’ decisions. In the larger scheme of things, we are all powerless anyway.

Goody Two-Shoes

I’m not the complaining type. Honest, I’m not. But the tea lady was late this afternoon. She normally comes around 3pm to deliver afternoon tea to my desk. She came well past 4pm instead. And I needed to leave already. The tea was still too hot to drink even after allowing 10 more minutes, and I didn’t want to burn my tongue. I couldn’t wait anymore so I left the steaming cup of tea on my desk.

All the way home, I felt guilty. And I felt ridiculous too. It’s ridiculous to feel guilty for not finishing my cup of tea. But I couldn’t help it. What is wrong with me? It’s just a cup of tea! But I felt bad for wasting the water, the electricity that heated it, the tea, the sugar and the effort of the sweet lady.

Is this what some people meant when they say I am a nice person? Because I always care for how others feel? But they got it all wrong. I don’t always care for how others feel. I am selfish. I consider myself the most important person in the world, bar none. But people don’t know that. They think I’m just joking when I say that.

Is this also what some people meant when they say that I am righteous? Because I feel guilty for the slightest things?  But they got it all wrong. Of course I feel guilty - because I do the wrong things all the time. But I don’t go around telling the world that I do the wrong things all the time.

The questions that need answering are, am I righteous or self-righteous? Am I a snob or reverse-snob? Or, am I simply a miss goody two-shoes, full of myself?

Gosh, I need a shrink!!

Borrowed Time

My parents passed on around a decade ago, within 4 yrs of each other. It is natural for me to think that old people would be gone, so I never gave much thought over when my parents would leave us. I had also taken it for granted that we love each other enough, or know each other well enough, for them to understand that I love them; that I've done for them what I could be expected to do for them; that all is forgiven; so that I can get on with life without any regrets as far as my relationships with them is concerned.

It is different when it comes to friends. I have made some incredible relationships throughout my life. These relationships had started since anything from my teenage years, college, my three jobs, and others in between.

As friends my age returned home to Allah in the recent years, it got me thinking, how much more time do I have left with those still with me. Will I leave this world without the chance to tell them how grateful I am for their presence in my life? Or will it be the case that I will be regretting not saying things that need to be said when they precede me.

Age is a factor. Some of them have passed their official life expectancies. I have told them my appreciation for sharing with me their friendship. But distance from some of these special persons has prevented me from saying it while looking into their eyes, or to seal it with a hug.

These elderly friends have taught me much on the meaning of respect. I do not mean that I learnt to respect the elderly from them. They taught me how to earn respect and to give respect, and that one earns respects when giving where its due. They showed me respect when I thought I was nobody but a fleck of dust in their world of experience and knowledge. I learned without a doubt that respect has nothing to do with our social position. I learned that we all deserve respect for the simple reason that we are human; that each of us is someone's child, mother, father, sister, brother.

I am still hopeful that I will meet each one of these wonderful people on my list. I am hopeful that Allah will lend us sufficient time and resources we need to fulfil my desire to thank each and every one of them in person, and to tell them how much difference they have made in my life.

Marriage Proposals

How does one handle three marriage proposals in a day.

Accept the first.
It wasnt for me. It was for the lovely young woman who lives in my house. The boy's family came to see the family of the girl's, brought a ring and left it for the girl and her family to consider. Its just a formality. The fact that they were welcomed for the visit was already a tacit acceptance.

Reject the second with no concern of his feelings.
Is there any other way when he is married, with a mixed-bag of children at that? Out of love for his two children, I have maintained a friendly relationship. However, when he keeps making his intention known to all and sundry including his family, his children, my family and my friends (asking them to plead on his behalf), I have no option but to avoid him as much as possible. Where is his brain? Well, his children say that its in his knee-caps, so I guess I'm gonna have to smash his knees to knock some sense into him.

Reject the third delicately.
There is love. There is affection. There is hurt too. A year ago I told him, its now or never. We continued to keep in touch, meeting every couple of months. Some 3~4 months ago, I repeated that call when my heart somewhat softened. Still, nothing happened. So I made other commitments taking into account a life without him. I took up a new job which will last me up to 3 years. I met new people. I started new and rewarding relationships. In a space of a mere 3 months, too many things have changed such that to build a life with him is no longer important. Worse, it no longer feels right. How do I tell this man whom I have loved for many years, without hurting him? No sense in keeping this hanging over us. When he made the proposal late that evening, I told him as it is. He didnt believe me. Two weeks on, he is still in denial. Its as if he hadnt heard me. Next step: Quit him cold turkey.

Smell The Roses

I do stop to smell the roses. One of the things that I do towards that is to spend as little time as possible on the road so I have more time for the things I enjoy most. That means leaving home when it is still dark and leaving work early, to avoid traffic congestions. Little did I know that there are roses to smell even during those rush hours.

After a late night out, I left home this morning 20 minutes later than usual, into slow-moving traffic. As my car reached the brow of the hill facing east, I was presented with a wonderful scene of daybreak sunlight shining from below the clouds. The warm glow in many shades of red, orange and yellow, and the shadows which played on the clouds above were simply magnificent. I gaped at the beautiful picture, praising Allah for His inimitable creation. For once I was actually willing for the traffic to remain at a standstill, just so I can enjoy the stunning view which I know will last for only a few minutes.

To The Limits

Have you ever hit these barriers? My passenger had asked as we passed a toll gate.

That brought me back to one fine day some years ago when I decided to test how fast I could go without hitting, that is, to be just in time to reach the barrier as it opens. I never found out how fast I was going; was too shocked when we actually hit it. Fortunately, they have designed the barrier to open outwards as the bonnet touched it. We didn’t stop laughing until long after we left the place.

I have pushed many things to the limits.

I have pushed my boss to the limits. I kept defying him - for what I believed was right for the company - until he bullied me into submission. It’s been more than a year now, a difficult year trying to re-establish the broken trust. Neither has apologised. But things are looking up. If my promotion is of any indication, then I must have done something right. Even if the promotion is done to get me out of his hair, I am having the last laugh...at least until the next crisis.

Did I push my relationships to the limits? That may just be true. But I'm done examining the past.

I'm pushing my wheels to the limits. Deep Purple's Speed King on the stereo, I have time and again gone past the speed limits. In fact it’s more like I hardly ever drive within the speed limits. It still amazes me that after 3 years, I haven’t had a single ticket on this car. I do sometimes imagine getting hurt or even killed in a crash. Who knows, I may get careless when tired; for that matter, I may adhere to all the traffic rules, but other road users may get careless...

A friend just loves listening to my adventures of the heart. She would then caution me, "I just love you too much darling. Stay cautious...I don’t want you to get hurt". But dear, we get hurt all the time and we bounce back every time. We shouldn’t let that fear gets in the way of living.

Another enjoys stories of my outdoors adventure. When he heard of my plans for Nepal, he would say, "Why do you have to go to all these places?" "How do I know you will be safe?" "You could get hurt or killed!" And I'd say, I could die falling off the stairs. Should I then avoid using the staircase?

I am not suicidal. Speed doesn't kill. It’s like jumping off a plane doesn't kill you. It’s hitting the ground that does the job.

I am living my life, sometimes pushing it to the limits...but I do try to carry with me a parachute when I can...

Intern

I have served in a few large corporations through my working life. During those tenures, I had my fair share of supervising interns, be they local or foreign kids.

I observed that in general, they start off rather timid, unsure of themselves. Towards the end of their 8-12 weeks or so, you can see that they have grown in confidence as well as in their network among staff. Most try their best not to step on anyones toes, towing the line, even when the line appears crooked. Some staff members would enjoy bullying those poor souls who are more or less stuck for the duration of the internship.

Against that background and experience, its refreshing to listen to one intern (in another company) who described how she had told off her supervisor who was being rude, not just to her, but others as well.

This supervisor brags about having worked in the company for 29 years. He probably thinks that it gives him the right to be abusive towards all others who have served less time.

The young woman was one week into her internship when he was upset with her over something. The supervisor wasted no time to grab his chance to show who's boss. He raised his voice at her in plain view of the rest of the staff in the department.

What he didnt bargain for was that this young woman had learned early on not to let anyone walk all over her, and to stand up for herself and others against injustice. She looked him straight in the eyes and told him firmly, ”Please do tell me if I'm wrong but you dont have to raise your voice with me!” Imagine his shock to be spoken to in that manner. By a 'lowly' intern at that!

Whats interesting was what followed in the next days. He no longer uses abusive language on the kid although he continued with his usual behaviour with others. Great for the kid, but honestly, I dont understand how that reputable company could allow such behaviour at all. In my environment, he would've been marched to the HR office twenty eight and a half years ago.

In my earlier post, I had related the fact that I was in an abusive relationship. He only stopped his threatening behaviour including abusive language when I took the risk of standing up against him after a long period. I should have had the courage of that kid much earlier.

I know for certain that the young woman will be successful in whatever she does. I also hope that she will share her stories for others to learn early in their lives.

I'm not depressed

It is now more than 3 years since my last post. I had visited these pages from time to time to remind myself how far I have moved on since then. When friends urged me to write again, I always responded that I write only when I’m depressed. As I hadn’t been in that state for quite some time, so these pages has not seen any new material.

But now I feel like writing again, among other things. Not because I’m depressed. But I have been told that I should share more of my experience. That I should speak up more often. I didn’t understand why anyone would want to listen to me. I’m so ordinary with nothing exciting to share, no lesson others can learn from me that they cannot get elsewhere. What I do and how I live my life is just a matter of course. I do what I have to do to survive, to contribute, to find happiness, just like everybody else.

However I learned recently that I should share my stories anyway. Let my listeners be the judge if the stories are of any use to them. Those who do not wish to listen don’t have to. I have known for a long time that the most meaningful kind of gift is one which we find most valuable to ourselves. And what could be more valuable to give away than the only thing that I truly own…my stories.

So there I was, trying to login to this page. Naturally, having been away for too long, I couldn’t remember my password anymore. I attempted with several different ones which I had used in the past, none worked. After some days thinking and trying, I gave up, and I clicked ‘forgot password’. The first question asked was, “Where did you have your honeymoon?” How can it be asking me this question? I couldn’t have answered it then so I can’t possibly answer it now. In fact there is no answer to that. I never had a honeymoon!

But the question did jolt me somewhat. The next day when I tried again, my fingers just flew to the right keys...and here I am.

Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word

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A few weeks ago, I gave up hoping that he would apologise. Sure he already said sorry, but it didn’t really count because I coaxed it out of him.

Two nights ago it was different. We were having one of our now rare late night phone calls, catching up on each other, when he genuinely apologised. I had least expected it when he finally admitted that he had hurt me. Knowing him as a proud man, it means a lot although the apology has come much later than I would have preferred. After all, sorry may well be his hardest word.

It had taken him two months but it is still not too late. It doesn’t mean that I’m taking him back. I just feel that perhaps he too can now let go of the past and look to what the future might bring him. Perhaps this admission means that he finally understands that it is not a viable option for me to remain with him.

Prior to that, he had said that he would never leave me, to which I agree..only because I have already left. Still, I like to think that he would continue to love me for a while yet, just as I do him. It doesn’t mean that we will get back together. I trust it means that we can still rely on each other when we need a friend. Perhaps there will be time when we could use each other for moral boost where needed.

It means that I would like to still meet him for dinner or a drink when he is in town, just to share updates in our mutually complicated lives, or to listen to our latest adventures.

At the very least I can trust him for some good hearty laughs.
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Between A Rock And A Hard Place

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I learned some valuable lessons at the weekend when I got myself stuck between a rock and a hard place, literally, and several times too in different caves.

I learned that as I go through life, I would from time to time be stuck in unpleasant situations. When that happens, I would need to spend additional effort and energy to extricate myself from that mess. There are normally forks in the paths that I could choose from. Invariably, one is to step back to where I came from, and the other to move forward. Both options are wrought with their own challenges, risks and unknowns.

In a sense, even if I choose to make a U-turn, that path may turn out to be as difficult as if I were to move forward. The trail which I thought was familiar when I came through one hole to be where I was is never the same when coming from the opposite direction. The same handholds and footholds are not as safe anymore so I would have to find different ones now.

Now, why should I then go back and face as much risks when I will only end up in the same place. I imagine going forward into the unknown is a lot more interesting. The pain, aches and bruises that come with it is anyway part of the fun. So basically, when stuck between a rock and a hard place, just go forward, literally and figuratively.

I also learned another lesson in going forward. At one point, I was facing a 20ft rock face. The guy in front of me made it up after trying and slipping several time. It took me some time to work up the courage, so I let a few others pass through, after which I couldn’t delay any more without holding up the whole gang.

Without a firm foothold, I slipped a couple of times. Then the gentleman stranger behind me offered his hands for me to step on. He cupped his hands together and held them up above his head. I gingerly stepped on them (in my boots too) and made it half way up the rock face. It was probably painful for his arms and hands but he didn’t complain.

Just like real life, at some points I must accept help from strangers to push me through some difficulties. I must trust that the offer of help is genuine and that the stranger has what it takes to give me that assistance. I learn too that I must sometimes offer my help to others in need without being asked for, and without expecting anything in return.

I had now left the hands that was supporting me, and yet still unable to reach the top of the ledge where someone was eagerly waiting to pull me up. There I was midway up the wall and left to my own devices. Giving up would have meant a 10ft drop onto a bed of rock, so the only way to go was up. Difficult as it was, somehow I managed to pull myself up. It was a marvelous feeling to have conquered something that earlier had seemed insurmountable.

A couple more obstacles and there I was looking at a tiny crevice with sunlight streaming in. A few steps up with a little wiggle around the sharp edges and I was out in the cool shade of the jungle.

Interesting enough, the gentleman who had helped me up the menacing wall then had a hard time getting out through that final crack. He was stuck for more than an hour and he was getting weak after making many attempts to push himself up. Fortunately, what goes around comes around, in a good way. Pulling him out was not an option. Another kind soul went around the back…which took a good half hour…and offered his hands to be stepped on. While waiting, the rest of the gang was keeping him company and sharing with him water snacks and some jokes to keep the spirits up.

That was yet another lesson learned. Sometimes I am stuck and others help me. Other times, I get to pay it forward to someone else. Our good deeds are always returned, at times many times over.
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Counting My Blessings

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It is now more than a week since my last post. The fact that I don’t feel the need to write as much anymore is a good sign. Time does heal after all.

In the recent years and months, I have witnessed sufferings of others which not only dwarf my own, but in fact make me view my life as full of blessings. Some examples I am listing below.

A friend discovered that her husband of 15yrs had re-married behind her back. She discovered this when she was recovering from delivery of her third child. It has been years since and she has accepted the fate. Financially, he provides well for the family; she stayed with him but raising her children practically single-handedly with hardly any emotional support from the man she continues to love. I am blessed.

A young acquaintance, married for 5 years said she made love with husband at most once a month. She said he meditates a lot in lieu of sex. Yeah..right..soon enough she discovered the third person. She kicked him out, he begged for her to take him back when he lost his job, and she..bless her heart...took him back...now they are trying again for a baby. I am blessed..in that she chose to trust my counsel like a sister she doesnt have.

Another couple had just completed a year of married life. During the year, she gave birth to a son. But she wasn’t celebrating their anniversary because she has learned that her husband has continued his relationship with an old flame. I am blessed.

One tough lady was divorced by her husband at least 7 years ago. He took her daughter away and she has not had a chance to see her again. The child is now 10yrs old. The only thing she knows about her mother is that she is a bad bad woman because that's what her father tells her. I am blessed.

A father of seven raising his children alone after his wife died of childbirth. I am blessed.

A father of two was taken to the cleaners by his wife. She left suddenly with everything movable that they owned, except the two children including one still in diapers. He raised them both on his own. Just when it got easier with both of them going to school, she sued for custody. The children have been shuttling back and forth between the two parents, depending on the latest court order, with no end in sight. I am blessed.

A couple married for donkey years, with children old enough to have their own children. She gave up her job when they were married. The husband is now having a mid-life crisis. No job but with an affair. She is now dipping into her meager savings to continue her daily existence. I am blessed.

A friend from school, having a great career, gifted children, understanding husband...the perfect family. Or so she thought. The husband is having an affair and she doesn’t have an inkling. The wife is always the last to know. I am blessed.

I have my family, sans husband. I have my job which I still enjoy. I have my health. I am free to go anywhere and do anything anytime that pleases me. I am blessed.
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Let The Healing Begin

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In the last weeks I had indulged in phone conversations with him. My intention was to firstly learn as much truth from him as possible. I had hoped to understand his side of the story. I wanted to make some sense of what had happened, or not happened between us.

Even at the outset, I knew that I could well be setting myself up for more pain and heartbreak. True enough, I was a bigger mess every time our phone calls ended. After three weeks, I still couldn’t tell the truth from the lies.

So bent was I in seeking that closure, at one point I came dangerously close to succumbing to the temptation of flying out to meet him. I bought my return tickets. I ordered a taxi to take me to the airport. It was only half an hour before the taxi was due to arrive that I changed my mind.

Boy…was I glad I didn’t take the trip. I lost that few hundred ringgits but got to keep my resolve.

Last night I thought that our communication was getting us nowhere. I said to myself, why prolong the pain if no discerning result is coming out of it. It was just then that he told me, “We can never get everything we want; it’s all decided for us; we must not forget Qada’ and Qadar”.

It was not actually anything new what he said. In the recent weeks, I have read the same thing over and over again elsewhere. I have even said it to myself to make me feel better. I have had others reminded me of the same. But that was the first time in three weeks that he said something I believe in without an iota of a doubt.

I guess, all that time, I was looking for a place where we are both standing together with the same understanding of where we are exactly. And I finally found it in that statement. There are still many questions which shall remain unanswered. But I believe that having him said that to me was just what I needed for the closure I am looking for.

To be sure, my heart is still in tatters. There is still plenty of hurt left to be spent. Nonetheless, I know that the healing process can now truly begin.

Now it is time to keep a proper distance. Unlike before, staying completely disconnected from him doesn’t seem too far fetched anymore. I will use that time to pick up the pieces of my heart. I will slowly put them together and nurse it back to health.

One day, sooner or later, when my strength returns, I will stand back to admire the jigsaw puzzle of my heart. There would then be a third piece missing from that picture. Those missing pieces will make the puzzle special.

Stories shall be told in place of those unseen pieces. When I am able to tell the third story with a smile, I would know that my healing is then complete.
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Its Not Over Until The Fat Lady Sings

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My official mourning period is now over. Let’s see what I have accomplished in that time, and what I have failed to overcome.

That decision to leave him hasn’t stopped me from missing him. I know that it could result in me doing some stupid things like flying out to see him. I don’t trust I could be in full control of my faculties if that happens. So I plan one outing after another elsewhere in the next weeks. This avoids having idle weekends in my calendar which may give me that stupid idea. Better be crazy than stupid.

That craziness may result in me replacing my busted set of wheels. As the end of the two weeks loan approaches, I like the 200 car better and better. I think it suits me better that the sleek dream car I had always wanted.

I no longer constantly feel as if someone has just punched me in the stomach and knock the wind out of me. My heart doesn’t ache as much; at least not that unbearable squeeze which leaves me breathless. These still happen from time to time, but not with the same severity.

I’m humming and whistling again. I haven’t yet sung as hearty as I used to, but I know it will come back.

I haven’t seen him again since the break-up, not yet. I do not rule it out. We speak on the phone a couple of times. Sometimes emotional, other times sober and laughing. But it still hurts each time.

He just doesn’t seem to understand the grief caused to me. I must stop trying to make him understand. I must stop expecting that he would ever apologise.

Apologies or not, I have ruled out renewing romance with him. That’s what the sane mind tells me, but who is to know what Allah has written in my book.

I have lost weight. While I was shocked to find my waist shrunk two notches on my belt, this is nothing new. I got sick every couple of years and lose that weight anyway. Since I have been healthy for a while, this episode compensates in the gain/loss cycle.

I still believe that he loves me. I still love him. When there is so much war and hatred in the world, I think what we have is still beautiful, imperfect as it is.

I have no regrets. There will always be others who make impact in our lives; some make life difficult and unbearable, yet others who help keep our faith and see the beauty in mankind. I can’t stop people doing what they do because they have their motivation, just as much as I have my own. The only thing that makes sense is to take responsibility for how I respond to them.

I hope not to be afraid to love again. As they say, better to love and lost rather than not love at all. As long as the fat lady hasn’t sung, I shall continue to love.
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Who Wants to Live Forever

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There’s no chance for us
Its all decided for us
This world has only one sweet moment set aside for us

Those are lyrics from Queen’s Who Wants to Live Forever. My past loves like to use words like Forever, Always, Tetap. I have good excuse never to rely on those words; none of those men is with me today.

My first love uses “Tetap Sayang”. Even today. In the meantime, he had gone on and made a family for himself.

My second love says “Love Forever”. There were hundreds of letters bearing those words. Where is he now? Gone and raised a family for himself. I have shredded every single piece of the now meaningless letters.

When third love started to play with “I will Always love you”, alarm bells rang in my head. And I rang it loud and clear for him too. Told him from the outset I didn’t believe in it.

Those words should be banned from romantic vocabulary. When we can’t even tell what’s to happen in the next second, how can we pretend to know how we would feel at any time in the future?

The only thing that is certain is change. It is a better bet any time.

As Mercury sang…Who waits forever anyway…
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Life is a Sudoku

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I enjoy Sudoku puzzles. It is a game of numbers, solved by logic. They come in various degrees of difficulty. I like the way that when they are solved, I know without a doubt that the solutions are right.

I see each puzzle as divided into 3 phases. Phase 1 is the starting point; the easy part where information is easily seen and numbers fall easily into place. Then Phase 2 starts and it gets difficult. Available references are not so clear towards filling in the blanks. Phase 3 is when the difficult parts are solved and it is a matter of time that the puzzle is completed.

The process of solving Phase 2 may involve backtracking, trial and error. Working with a pencil, I could always erase and make new inputs. Sometimes I would move on to the next puzzle before returning to unstuck an earlier one with new insights. Then, there are also those which I would finally give up unsolved.

My life’s upheavals are like Sudoku. Some might say that I get more than my fair share of Sudokus. But I don’t think so. Fairness doesn’t mean equality. Allah tests us only as much as He knows we can take. Some of us can take on more than others, depending on where we stand at any one time. I believe that Allah gives me only my fair share.

I like to think that Phase 1 of my current Sudoku is over. I have run out of references to easily put the pieces together for the purpose of understanding what has happened. Right now I am struggling with the unfamiliar territory of Phase 2. It is time for trials and errors. I thought I treaded very carefully, but still, I have needed to backtrack on some steps already.

Unlike working with a pencil on a Sudoku grid, real life is working in ink. Mistakes are not erasable. I will have to live with the consequences. But as long as I make more right steps compared to wrong ones, and as long as my logics prevail, I know I will be ok in the end. When Edison finally invented the light bulb, he had learned thousands of ways how not to make one. Perhaps I would learn a thing or two about relationship which could help me in the future.

I look forward to reaching Phase 3. As in the past, I will know it when I look back and see that things have actually fallen into place. Naturally, some boxes may remain empty for a while yet. Perhaps this puzzle is not meant to be solved the conventional way. Only time will tell.

Meanwhile I could always start another puzzle.
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Letter to Kak

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Dear Kak,

Salaam from Malaysia.

I hope this mail finds you and family in good health.

I had wanted to write you earlier but I needed some time to organise my thoughts and come to terms with this recent development. Please forgive me if you find this an intusion.

While <..> may have informed you already, I would still like to write you personally albeit with a very heavy heart. Sadly, after close to 5 years together, it is now over between us.

Although for months, I already had the unsettling feeling that things were not quite the same anymore (call it intuition), I still pinned my hopes high that we would one day tie the knot. After all, it was only as recent as December that he’d introduce me to others closest to him as his future wife.

As you had remarked before, he is not always the easiest person to be with. With the experience of a failed marriage behind me, I shared with him my fears but he cleared my doubts each time. With that, I held fast to my commitment to be with him for the long haul. After all, it is our imperfections which make us human.

I had thought that I was able to accept him exactly as he was, but in the end, I find that there are still boundaries which I am unwilling to remove. Vice versa, as I see it, he too was unable to accept me fully for who I am today. He is stubborn as we both know it. But what he never believed was that I am just as stubborn, if not more. Perhaps this is where our likeness starts and ends.

It was one evening some weeks ago when I was left with no choice but to call it a day. I guess he is probably relieved he didn’t have to do it himself. I still agree with you that he has tons of love inside him and a very warm heart. I love him dearly. Maybe he dragged it as long as he did so as not to hurt me by leaving. But in the end the break up was simply inevitable.

To say that I’m not sad with this sudden turn of event would be a lie. I’d like to think that he did love me passionately, for it would be too painful to think otherwise. I trust that in time I will find acceptance that this is how it is meant to be. I must believe that Allah has other plans for me, and him.

While we must now go our separate ways, I will always see the jewel in him. I may have lost in love, and I sure miss him, but there are still much blessings in my life to be thankful for.

My wishes for him today is still the same as when we first met. I wish for him to be with his children for the pleasure of watching them both grow into adulthood. I wish for him to meet someone who would love and care for him selflessly. I wish for him to meet a woman whom he could love and care always, so he doesn’t have to go through anymore pain. I had wished for that woman to be me, but we both found that I am way too selfish for him.

Kak, thank you for listening.

Warmest regards,
<..>

p.s. He told me about Thea’s pregnancy. Pls send her my warm welcome to motherhood.
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Glorious Colours

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Some time after breaking up with second love, I started making new friends again when I felt emotionally stable. I was only looking for friendship with others who may share the same interests. I can’t explain though why these friends were made up of men only. In my quest, I befriended a few. Some are older, some younger. Others are much older and yet others much younger. A few of them remain friends to today.

I got especially close to one just slightly older. I felt that as a friend, I could make a difference, and that he could make a difference in my life. I knew at least that friendship with him will never be boring. Even his name, which conjures an image of serenity, is a contradiction to the storm that is him.

From our friendship, I learned that deep down, no matter who we are, we all just want to be loved and accepted by others. When he did accept me into his life, I was flattered that such a colourful person could find me at all interesting.

The rest, as they say, is now history. It is history in all its glorious colours. I had wanted to be there with him, to reach our dreams together. We could have been a great partnership; if only we trusted each other enough to believe that the things we are unwilling to give up today do not interfere with our long haul commitment. In that sense, we failed each other. For that, I cried for both of us.

I do not yet know how these hues would further mix in the future. But I trust that the cycle will continue as certain as the sun rises everyday. The bright sunlight will be cloudy sometimes. Those days will be dark and gray. There will always be rain, sometimes it pours and sometimes gentle. There will be opportunities to enjoy the beauty of rainbows while the earth is refreshed by the rain.

The darkness of the nights can be suffocating, but there will be nights when the moon shines bright. Some rare nights, there would even be smiley face looking down on me. While other nights, the moon will be totally eclipsed.

I didn’t plan to fall in love, but fell we did, and the monochrome turned multicolour. Right now, these colours are blinding me. But I would not want a monochrome life. Let the colours come. In time, when the sharp edges are smoother, the beauty of life in multicolour shall live in my heart.
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