Wait.
Did I say “in my excitement to go to work”? What the…?
Well, it was raining (and maybe it still is, but I don’t care anymore) so it was the best time to whip out the new big, bad, black Batman (ka-pow!) umbrella.
“Pourquoi tombons-nous, Bruce?
“Pour que nous puissions nous prendre.”
Excuse me. That’s bad French. I should just stick to Bahasa Melayu.
“Kenapa kita jatuh, Berus?”
“Supaya kita dapat bangun semula.”
Imagine. The literal translation will be: “Supaya kita dapat pungut diri sendiri.”
Okay..enough of this language crap.
Was reading Sahriah’s blog entries and yeah, our relationships with the siblings have definitely changed. From the old “Waaaaaaaaaah! You spit at me, I’ll tell mak!” to “Oi, why you break my doll?” to “Hey, got $10 to spare?” to “Hey, want to share money to buy a fan?” My brother and I had a love-hate relationship but I guess, so did other siblings.
But one thing I am still quite pleased is that after all these years, he still calls me “Kakak”. Well, actually, it didn’t cross my mind but my “inquisitive” auntie brought it up. She said she was quite surprised that my brother still used “Kakak” on me.
Auntie: How do you feel?
Groggy Mona: Feel what? About what?
A: He still calls you “Kakak”. Shiok tak?
GM: Nonsense. It’s normal, what.
A: You both are just one year apart right?
GM: *grunts*
A: What? 1 year 1 month? 2 months? 3?
GM: *grunts grunts* 1 year 2 months. 14 months..whatever..
A: And he still calls you “Kakak”..awwww.
GM: *grunts* And what’s the problem with that?
A: Well some people would call their siblings by name..especially if they are just one year apart.
GM: *grunts* Gasak diorang, lah. (Whatever they deem fit, lah)
Mona’s Memoirs…(sound of electronic waves)
(I know it’s weird. But try reading this aloud in a British accent. )
We were not rich. But we were not poor, too. Since both my parents were working, our early childhood was rather comfortable. Of course, something had to be sacrificed. It was our parents’ love. We were placed, quite literally, under the armpits of my grandma. God bless her soul. She fed us, bathed us, fetched us to school, gave us a lot of TV and play time and many other cool stuff. She would bring us all over Singapore – to visit relatives, buy herbs to make home-made traditional medicine or to just plain shopping. She would sit by the kitchen window, sewing and singing…while my brother and I quarrelled and fought tooth-and-nail outside. One of us would end up crying and would retreat back to her armpits.
There was one day when my grandma did not pick me up from kindergarten. She thought my dad would do it. But my dad fell asleep and obviously, he did not do it. I gung-ho-ly walked home…only to bawl at the door.
We were not very close to our parents. They were quite robot-liked, quite mechanical – provide food, clothes, toys and books. Of course we kids treasured the little time we had with them. Outings were the best because we could psycho (yes, I cultivated that early) the folks to get what we wanted (we were TV kids, remember?). But emotional and mental wise, they couldn’t get it. They didn’t know our likes and dislikes (until now! Urgh!) and couldn’t understand our behaviours and tantrums. So my parents would get pissed at us…and scolded us..and beat us. As a result, we grew to be more rebellious and spoilt at the same time. In other words, bratty.
When I was eight, my mom was pregnant again. Then she decided to stop working. I knew my dad then felt helpless. My grandma moved out and stayed with my then-bachelor uncle because he needed her name to get a house. So, she moved to Yishun. My brother and I had to grapple with the crankiness of a very pregnant lady and a tired and edgy man. We were scolded..beaten. You get the idea. On top of that, the stress of bringing up a family took a lot of toll on my parents. They always fought scary wars. Perang Dayak, or tribal wars, one may call them. My brother and I would always run to our room and sometimes, we hid under the bed.
When my sister was born, it was hell. My dad was working doubly hard and my mom was busy with the baby. It was her first time dealing with a baby on her own. She had her mother when she handled both my brother and I. My sister’s incessant cries drove my brother, my dad and I insane. The house was in a mess and well, we were always emotionally left on our own. No one asked about our school lives, our studies, our friends and stuff. Lucky we were over-achievers back then..hahaha.
Life changed after that. We were not that comfortable anymore. In a way, I pitied my sister. She was not given the luxury that we had. But she had our mother’s love and that was far more important. Anyway, that was also the time, we learnt to be more independent and “smart”. We were made to do household chores in exchange for freedom. Yeah, like an Abyssinian slave. We traded dirty dishes for money, every laundry fold with extra TV time…library time, swimming time, McD. We were always working for something and we did it so well, other relatives hired us.
Mona: I want to be a lawyer, policewoman, dancer, sportswoman, radio presenter, movie director, poet…
Bro: I want to be a soldier, fireman, car racer, footballer, pilot, robot…
Secondary school was the best rebellion years and Mao Zedong would be so proud of us. We got scolded still and we had to deal with the irritating sister. We no longer do household chores because by then, my dad had developed an obsessive compulsive disorder of keeping everything clean, neat and spotless. We would sweep the floor and stuff and then he would accuse us for not doing…and then he did everything again. As time went by, we no longer did anything, preferring to lie that we had done it. Either way, we got scolded still. That was how we cultivated lying, skiving and soon..pilfering. Haha.
But I guess life did not go downhill after all. I found great friends…who were all so down-to-earth and very, very real. Not all had good relationships with their parents so I did not feel like a freak, really. My brother and I grew out of each other during our teens. He hung out with his friends and I hung out with mine. In primary school, we kind of mixed with the same clique. He got into some bad company and got himself into lots of troubles. Me? In a way, I grew mature during my teens. Like I said, I had really damn down-to-earth friends and they thought me a lot of stuff…like anger management, patience and filial piety. I learnt.
Ahhh too long. Enough for now.
###
No comments:
Post a Comment