Sunday, May 25, 2008

So they sold the house..

It’s been three weeks since I last talked to my Mum. She finally called on my birthday.. It was sweet listening to her voice again. We had a long funny chat about things I’ve missed out from home now that I'm in India. There were both laughs and tears in between, although it was just a short 20 minute- conversation on the phone. Good news and bad news both got me stoned.. I realized that this year luck is not really in my family’s side. One of our Alsation died mysteriously one night.. My older brother is having Uni probs again, though he’s supposed to graduate 2 yrs ago.. Mum’s picked up dancing for leisure, Nathan’s all more matured (according to Mum) .. My Dad decided to resigned from the company he worked for 25 years. That means, he sold the house in Sandakan too. The only memory of my late big brother I had was in that house. He sold the house.. I felt an uncertain emotional moment everytime I think about it. What else do I have in memory of him? I didn’t even get to see him before he died, my last memory of him was tickling his feet while he was asleep in bed in his room. I remember we were going for a week off to KK.. knowing my eldest brother, he’s always more interested in his best friends in Sandakan than visiting relatives over in KK. Novel had always been the kind of brother who would go all the way for friends, regardless of what they’ve done to him in
the past. He overlooked betrayal and lies, as long as his friends needed him, he’d be there for him. I think it was a Saturday. He was fast asleep, while all of us were packed up for the road trip to KK. I begged him to come along, but Mum said he wanted to stay back.. So I said goodbye to him, and was looking forward to seeing him a week later before he flies off to Birmingham for 2nd Year..

It is a tragedy to lose a beloved eldest brother. Not only we loved him, he was the role model for his 2 younger siblings. Though he’s left to be united in Christ, there is not one day I stop thinking of him. It hurts me to know that he is gone. It seemed more realistic to think that he was still overseas studying. I remember the most painful times I’ve had with him when he was still alive was when he had to fly back to uni. I felt so hurt that I refused to follow him to the airport in the early mornings. I just didn’t want to say goodbye to him.

Now that I think of it, I regret it so deeply.. because if I did grasp every moment that I had with him, at least he’d know I loved him so. Not only I was too arrogant to just let the pain come, I ended up losing my brother without even being able to be there in the hospital in his last moments of life. Novel had an accident on September 14th in Sandakan while he was sending his friends home after a night out. We were still in KK then. It was 3 am. I remember I got woken up from a bad dream about Novel. I got up to look for my parents, but they weren’t there. Mum and Dad woke up from their sleep, because they heard stones hitting the bedroom window. It was my Aunt and uncle outside. They’ve come to tell about the accident. I could tell they didn’t want my Wilson and I to know about the news because they spoke softly in the dining room downstairs.. I decided to sit by the staircase in the hallway, hoping to hear better about what was going on. First words that came to my ears were ..
...“ How serious is it..?”

“Very serious, the doctor said. He lost a lot of blood.”
“Is there hope?”
“I really don’t know. Andy said the doctors are doing their best to save him.”
“ Is he conscious?”
“Yes he was, Andy said Novel was saying that he wanted to see his family over and over again.”
“We have to take the first flight home immediately. I think we better wake the kids up to pray.”

My heart was beating faster than a bullet train. At that moment, I was stoned. I didn’t know how exactly to feel. Shouldn’t I be crying now? If I didn’t cry, doesn’t it mean I don’t love my brother? I ran into my bedroom and shut my eyelids tight. I kept telling myself it was all a dream. Wilson was still fast asleep by my side, clueless about what had happened. A short moment later, my dad came in and woke us both up. I kept quiet, pretended I didn’t know anything. I went to my mother's room. Mum was packing up as fast as she could. I could see her mind was all over the place, though she tried to keep herself calm. She saw me, and didn't say a word.

The first flight leaves at 7.10am. It was only 4am then. We were all awake, we didn’t know what to do. All we could do at that moment was to pray for hope that he would live.

It was 6.00am. Time has come to head for the airport. We were all ready, just waiting for Wilson to brush his teeth. My heart was a little relieved. Naively, I thought to myself, " we’re coming home soon and everything will be alright when we get back to sandakan. Novel would be better once he'd see us. Dad sure knows what to do. We'll get the best doctors around and he'll be well."

Not long after, my cousin Andy called. My dad answered, we could only stare at his facial expression to guess what was the call about. My dad said “ oh, okay. How long ago...? .......okay, bye.”
He hung up, and looked at my Mum hopelessly. He said,” He’s gone,”. Before my Mum fell flat onto the ground, my Dad caught her. I stood there as I watched them both teared to death. I was numb. Everything turned grey, time just didn't seem to matter anymore. I went to the toilet to tell Wilson about the news. His toothbrush was still stuck in his mouth as the stunned at the news. he just stared down at the running water on the sink, not knowing how to react either. I couldn’t take it I ran into my room to hide. I shut my eyes closed and told myself “It’s all just a dream, it’s all just a dream.”

I didn’t know whether to think if God was unfair or did he really needed my brother that soon? I was 12 years old.. what was I suppose to think..? I don’t know why this is happening to my family, never saw it coming at all. All the more I feel sorry for my mum, whose father left her when she was 6, and now to face the death of her firstborn. What has she done to deserve all this..? And my Dad, why did he deserve this? From a poor farming family he strived through his uni years to earn every penny. He raised us well, especially our eldest brother. He even searched every university for my brother to get to where he is. All this has been taken in vain. Just a click from his lifeline, and we all lost him.

Until today, I don’t know what to think of our fate..yes, thinking that he’s up there with God does give me a piece of mind. But the more I think about the what if’s, the more I despise God. Why did He take my brother away from my family? He was our pride and joy.. there’s nothing more we want than to have him back.

10 years, that’s a decade. Dad’s sold the house. I don't blame Dad. Ever since Novel died, all of us changed. Mum didn't want to be there, so did I. So we all decided to move to KK. Dad had a reason to keep the house before this because he was still working there. Now there is no reason to keep the house. I wonder if it would make sense to buy the house once I've earned enough. But I'm sure the new owner would change the rooms and all.. It wouldn't be the same anymore.

I remember how his room was, the smell of Dolce & Gabanna perfume was all over. His messy blue sheeted- bed,with the air-con blasting cold, his table full with paperwork,trophies all over the place, his guitar leaning against the corner of the wall, and his CD collection- a true collection. I’ve always sneaked in to look at all those cool rock CDs he used to have- googoodolls, silverchair, bonjovi, korn, alanis morisette, matchbox20, etcs. Always have looked up to my brother with his taste in music and his sporty side. He was all that, not forgetting that he was always teachers’ pet in every school he goes to. He was always good in academics, although he takes his studies like peanuts.

Everytime I listen to a new song by his favourite bands, I'd think to myself, " If only my brother could hear this great song.. I'm sure he'd love it.. " . His room, his song collections, and his pictures were my only memories of him left. Now that his room is gone, I don’t know how else to think anymore.

Faith and religion, they’re both ambiguous when it comes to the story of after-life. Nobody knows how God would judge each one of us, no one would know if we would meet each other again, or if we could even recognize each other’s spirits. Who would know all this.. ? If heaven and hell is true, I’m not even sure if we’ll meet each other. We could both be heaven, both be in hell, or one in heaven and the other in hell. If reincarnation was true, I don’t want my brother to end up being another person’s child today. I want him to myself. He doesn’t belong to anyone else’s family but ours.

Novel, Novel, Novel.. I still miss you bro.

Saturday, May 24, 2008

My teeny weeny issue..

Okay, so I have this teeny weeny problem.. My weight, and for 22 years, I’m still not happy about it. Oh God, how long will my anxiety eat up my life??? It’s a sensitive issue for me, even thinking about it makes me depressed already L As long as I have lived I’ve managed to lose 20 kilos.. another 10kg would make me “an ideal weight” person. However, this 10kg is even more annoying than a zit! Because at least zits subside with time and proper treatment, but it’s not working for me that way! I have improved in my health in other ways, like, uhm, stamina, strength, but my figure and weight is not going anywhere!! Even with only muesli and healthy veg in my diet, I’m still stuck! And because of that I end up wallowing in comfort food..yes, rich food…talk about chocolates, hey but I know my limits.. and I don’t do it daily.. so what’s missing ? What’s causing my weight to hold back?? I really don’t know..

I just don’t understand how hot girls who just sit their asses off in their room, feeding on internet and sleep could actually maintain that firm figure.. where as me, the moment I run, I’m like a wobbling jelly from Gummy Bear land! I seriously don’t get it.. I do 60 sit ups twice daily, half an hour of stretch, and half an hour of jogging.. and my weight is still going nowhere but 60kg! L

I know it’s not exactly a good thing to compare yourselves to others and that you should be happy in whatever you seem to be.. but hey, 22 years of this, obviously I’m meant to get frustrated at some point right? Sigh…. Maybe it’s my love for cooking.. they say thinking about food itself causes weight gain, you know.. then again, my passion does lie in food, and almost everyone who knows me knows that.. L sigh..

Need to let go.. of which, the weight issue or the cooking..?

Sunday, May 11, 2008

Is She ..A Broken Vessel?

I'm finding it hard to breathe,
I'm finding it hard to put myself up,
I could easily put on a smile,
But deep inside my heart is ache with pain,
So I placed a veil over my face,
That others cannot tell what I'm feeling.
I'm filled with guilt,
Sick with shame,
It is only a feeling,
Yet it is so difficult to forget.
If only the events were reversible,
I wouldn't even be there that night.
I could only hope,
Tomorrow would be a better day for me,
But for whatever reason should I deserve this?
I do not deserve this...
Finding it hard to ask for forgiveness,
Though all I have to say is "Sorry",
My tongue is tied by my guilt,
My eyes turn away from goodness and mercy,
I deeply want them, but I don't derserve them.
So I quieten my heart and hide myself in the dark.
Who am I, I no longer know,
The person I was,I'm still searching for her,
How I lost her, I don't even know,
It happened like a thieve in the night,
All I could remember,
Is I was a happier person, who knew what contenment was,
Who was joyful in all her days,
Knowing her confidence was in the Lord.
She used to turn to prayers for strength,
Hymns for joyfulness,
Reflections for thankfulness..
Now I'm not even that,
Who am I ?I no longer know..
Before I know it,
I was already a broken vessel.
I mourned for my fragility,
For the events were irreversible,
Potter, will You fix me up again?
This pot has been broken so many times,
But even so a potter would not want a broken pot.
He may fix it once, fix it twice, but by the third,
He sees this pot is useless,
His efforts were taken in vain.
So in what manner do I deserve God's Grace?
For I am like the broken pot, and He is my Potter..
There is no difference between me and the pot..