Jojo's Jots

Gift for Emak

2008-05-11T08:56:00.000-07:00

I am desperate.
It is Mothers’ Day and I know I have to do something nice for emak.

This morning I called her on the pretext of updating her on our routine Sunday afternoon visit. Such is our relationship. We are never ones to openly declare love or make greetings. At 72, emak (and especially bapak) belong to the generation of Malay parents of old. I’d say they are more the folks from The Good Earth (Pearl S.Buck) than the Huxtables.

But I know emak knew, and appreciated my calling her.

Then in the evening we popped in, wifey, Hanna & me. It was but for 15 minutes, just so I could see emak and perhaps wish her. Hanna was already asleep in my arms and we had to leave, so I couldn’t use the same ploy ie. get Hanna to salam emak and wish her (Hanna is spouting some words now) the mothers’ day greeting. Besides, it wasn’t grandmas’ day.

I’d been feeling guilty. Ever since I had set up my own family, my contact with emak is the weekly visit and now with Hanna in the picture, it becomes Hanna’s nenek-contact time. There is my occasional phoning emak to ask “buat apa tu?”, but emak calling me easily outnumbers my calling her 5 : 1.

“Sarah masak apa hari ni?” is emak’s usual probe. But that is also because she has prepared the many dishes that she lovingly whips up from that kitchen of hers, and wants me to savour. "Datanglah, ambik buat makan malam.” That is emak. Her 7 children always in her mind, regardless of where each one is.

Her life hasn’t been all easy either. Each one of us 7 children has contributed to her dismay at some point, either consciously or by some unwitting predicament. The last of which was my youngest brother’s kidneys failure scare. When he was unconscious in the ICU, for days emak was a picture of consternation….

As I’m pushing 40, I fear that I have not done enough to make emak happy, to repay all that she has done for us, for me. It is a bit tricky, as I now have other commitments and priorities that I vow not to fail in. And yes, I will learn to say I-love-you to emak, never mind how odd it may sound in Malay.

But yes, it is not too late. I have God to ask from…

Oh Allah. Do forgive emak for her mistakes, her shortcomings, before and to come. Do give me the strength and means to love her as she has loved me, and to repay her in this world for all she has given me. Even if I can't, I pray that you grant her happiness in her remaining years and especially, in the hereafter. Ameen.

Rolling (& Rocking & A Lil' Bit Country) Good Times!

2008-05-01T10:39:00.000-07:00

I admit I'm a sucker for nostalgia.

Yes, pave me a nostalgia walkway, and I'll gladly take that trip. The last few days, since I'm on confinement (skipped the doctor & quarantined meself) I've been discovering the joys of Youtube. Yes, just say it.... late-bloomer.

Well, bloomed they did. Clip after clip. From Barrack Obama to Akademi Fantasia to Harun Yahya to Conspiracy Theories. And then it happened. I struck Donnie & Marie Osmond!

Yes... the toothy twosome who livened every living room come Tuesday night in the 70's with heart-stealing show numbers, hilarious skits, cutesy antics & flashy disco wardrobe. I think Donnie & Marie Show revolutionised tv variety show of the time & probably coined the name for that very genre. I mean, the term variety in the pre-MTV & reality era made sense with what the talented duo had to offer.

The young telegenic siblings (Marie was 16, Donnie 18 when the show debuted) with their very own show, commanded fierce loyalty among tv viewers who remained glued to their then newly-minted colour tv tubes.

Who can forget the opening revues with signatures from the 70's? The solo show-offs where Marie was a lil' bit country & Donnie a lil' bit rock & roll? Or the closing tune that is both sweet & heart-warming...? "May tomorrow, be a perfect day.....". And then some.

Donnie & Marie became household names and viewers (like me) were soon singing along to Puppy Love & Paper Roses. I even went hunting at the Oriental Emporium for purple socks! I dare say, unabashed, that Donny & Marie were my inspiration for showbiz aspiration later on....
(Sebelum kena kutuk, I must stress, they were uber-cool in their day, ok.)

TV was simpler then. But we had a lot of fun. Donnie & Marie, they were iconic. Always loved them.

Anyhow, here's one for the road. I'm gonna order the DVD online. Think 2 seasons are already out.

Join the dots, anyone?

2008-04-29T06:03:00.000-07:00

What? HFMD on me? A 40-year-old-going-on-life?

But the stinging spots proved it. On my palms. On the soles of my feet. (Plus a few stray ones on an elbow & above the toes). And I can feel more than a couple in my mouth.

But the hand, foot & mouth disease that hit me went beyond its boundaries, as the same prickly stings attacked my derriere too. Guess I have the HFMAD. Yes 'A' for A-S-S.

Then again, my symptoms have mirrored those of Hanna’s, whom the doctor confirmed had got a mild case of HFMD. Yes, including on her smooth baby bottom.

Umm & me had to quarantine Hanna for about a week. Apparently, a number of her friends at the childcare centre we send her to, also had been struck by the disease. Teacher Aisya sounded desperate in advising us to get Hanna to rest at home. In the end, Hanna spent her days at Emak’s home in Pasir Ris.

Abu tried to keep Hanna company for as much time as I could…. Bathing her, sharing toothbrushing cup, eating breakfast together, etc. And of course, dispensing Abu’s daily dosage of smackeroos. No wonder Abu’s taken over Hanna’s spots.

Finally, some time to myself.

Friendship is made of these...?

2005-12-21T12:37:00.000-08:00

Today I am a sad man...

Until recently, I was quite the hopeless romantic. Not for the romantic interest, although that one lurked ominously around the corner of my mind. (I scored on that one recently when I wedded my lovely wife).

No, I romanced friendship. The idea of friendship, to be precise.

I did realize that a friend was an under-rated asset, whose sacredness reduced to his name lying in the contact list of one's cell phone, or buried somewhere in the email inbox.

Never mind the ideal of a friend embedded in one's mind, the living memories of episodes gone by replayed on the cerebral screen on-demand.

It took quite a bit to preserve that romantic ideal. Careful guardianship of the friends' privacies, housekept datafiles of well-preserved memories, and crafted dreams of the extension of that friendship to our offsprings.

All that was shattered today when I read the jottings of a friend on her blog.

It seems our recent get-together was more superfice than pleasure, our guarded jokes excuses for insecure awkwardness. The friends that we were, lost in the bodies of new-found identities and roles we now assume.

Not that it was a total shock to me. When I was about to be married, I was told that I could not keep platonic female friends. Man plus woman is not friendship makes. It simply did not exist. Guess I should consider myself warned.

What is confusing is that during our meet, while I tried to relate to my friends on a different level of friendship we were now supposed to be in, they were spouting the same cantankerous jokes and put-downs befitting of days gone. Must have been hard...

Which sets me thinking. Do friendships grow? Or they just erode the moment we step into new territories which require more fitting friends?

I suppose I should start serenading a heartfelt "To all the friends I had before....".

Maybe not.
I am not as romantic anymore...