Choices

They say we have choices in life. Do we really? What kind of choices are they referring to?

I usually have mixed rice for lunch. The term mixed rice does not in any way mean that the rice are mixed. It’s just that you can choose your side dishes. Usually there will be more than 10 choices for you to choose from. I call that as having choices. If I don’t like this particular dish, I can always choose another. But if I don’t like the mixed rice as a whole, I can still choose to have curry noodle from the next stall.

On the other hand, I can look at a traffic summons and say I don’t wish to pay. Technically, I have a choice. I can choose to pay and be a good citizen or I can choose not to pay and face the consequences which usually translate to a heavier fine or jail term. In this case, I have to choose the lesser of two evils. Pay the summons and set myself back by $300. This of course is better than spending a nite in jail.

Choices are when you get to choose freely. However, when you are forced to choose, I don’t term that as having a choice. Ask a parent to choose which drowning child to save. What kind of response will you get? As a parent you will want to save both. But you only get to choose to save one. Tough.

The same goes with Christianity. God gave us a choice, or at least that’s what I’m told. But I need to fulfill certain criteria. If I don’t I’m condemned to hell. If I do, I get eternal life. Sounds like a simple enough choice but sadly it isn’t. To be accepted, I have to be committed to church activities, contribute my tithe, etc. But I have a family to take care of. I have an ailing mother to care for. I can’t be away all the time. I can’t afford her medical let alone give tithe. Will God understand? Apparently not according to the pastor. Maybe I’m in the wrong church.

Churches today expect committment. Can’t blame them. Memberships have been dwindling. The world is not an easy place to live in. Maybe perhaps we have too much choices. We can choose all kinds of sins to indulge in. The world is offering plenty that’s for sure.

To be or not to be? Choices.

Grandma

Grandma is a strong woman. No, she don’t carry weights or lift cars. What I meant was she has a strong character.

Grandma was a young lass during the Japanese occupation in the then Malaya. Being the eighth daughter in a family of 11 children, she spends most of her time hiding in the jungle to avoid the soldiers. Grandma came from a well to do family but they lost most of their wealth during the war. In a time where women are not encouraged to study, grandma took to the books and became an accountant.

Years later her parents arranged her marriage. She was to marry the son of a close family friend. Unknown to their parents, grandma and grandpa have been secretly seeing each other before they were betrothed to each other. It amuses me to know that my grandparents are quite sneaky during their younger years.

It was a life of hardship after marriage. The country was trying to rebuild itself after the war. Then they had to live through the May 13 crisis. At the same time they had to put 4 children to school. Grandma worked hard. She came out to work as a teacher. Then later on work for a plumbing company as an accountant. Out of the 4 children, her eldest son and youngest daughter were the brightest, relatively speaking. Both finished high school but were not able to continue college due to financial constrains.

When I moved back to stay with them, I discovered a lot about them. They never spoiled their children except for their grandchildren. Lucky me! For a grandma, she’s quite open-minded. Although I know many times she tries to understand us and relate to us but the generation gap is too wide. Her effort did not go unnoticed though. She became a grandmother, a mother, a friend and a conspirator. She never tires to share her wisdom with us. She never fails to meet our needs and take care of us. When we needed an extra player at monopoly, she happily obliged. And when we needed something from grandpa, she conspired with us to get it.

Others always mistaken grandma for my mother. That’s because grandma married young. Also, she can be quite vain. At the age of 50+, she still dyes her hair black to hide the silver. As the years go by, she can no longer hide her age. Her body also started to fail her.

After an incident where she was admitted to the hospital, she sold off all her jewelery and bought each of her grandchildren a token of her love. Everyone of us got either a gold chain or a ring. What was heart-wrenching was her giving it to us individually while explaining that this is her will. It was then that I realised that I will lose her one day.

That one day came. Grandma was admitted to the hospital for heart failure. After several attempts to save her, she fell into a coma and passed on. I was given the chance to speak on behalf of the family in place of my father, who being the eldest son was still on his way back from overseas. So much fond memories to share. So much regret of not saying what had to be said.

But I’m thankful for one thing. I got to live with her for 8 years of my life. I’m glad that I know what a great woman and  loving grandma she was.

Good Student, Bad Student

I used to be a good student. Not in my primary school but when I started secondary school, my studies picked up. My grades were good and I did pretty well for my finals.

There’s really nothing much I want to do during this period of time. My parents are sleeping in separate rooms. I hardly see my dad anymore. Mum seemed distant and depressed all the time. I had to study hard. I wanted to make them proud. I spent most of my time after school pouring over books and doing homework. I left notes to my dad on his bedroom door asking for additional allowances to buy revision books which he gave me.

Everyday, after school I made a bee line back to home. Friends would asked me to join them for games and such. But I always decline. As soon as I finish lunch, it’s homework time. Then right after that, I would take a shower and then it’s study time. There’ll be no TV, play, naps or outings. If I did well in my studies, then perhaps my parents will get back together.

My finals came. I studied harder. A month after the finals, the results were out. Mum accompanied me to school to collect my results. My was terrified. Cold sweats were beading on my forehead when it’s my turn to collect it. With trembling hands I reached out to accept it from the teacher. She smiled at me. Mum was beside me. I looked at it. It’s written in red.

I got all As. I looked up at mum. She was beaming at my results. I was overjoyed. I felt like I was skipping on air all the way home. Being a typical mother, she called the whole world to announce my results. Ok maybe not the world but all the closest relatives. That night, I left my results on the dinner table for dad to see when he comes back.

Next morning, dad wrote me a note congratulating me and saying he’s proud of me. I was so happy. Now finally, we can be a happy family again. How naive I was.

A week after that, mum attempted suicide. And a week after that, dad ‘officially’ informed my brother and I that they are getting a divorce. A month after that, we were sent to live with our grandparents.

I was doing my secondary four and five in Ipoh. I just couldn’t concentrate anymore. I spend more time staring at the idiot box and my mind wanders a lot. Since then my studies went downhill. From top student, I became the last student. I didn’t care anymore. Nothing I do will change the situation. So why bother.

Why is this happening? What else must I do?

Best Friend

I had a best friend when I was in high school. We did things together, share stuff together, go places together and break laws together. Stuff that best friends are supposed to do together.

He always blames me for ‘corrupting‘ him. Apparently, I introduced him to porn. Yeah right. You can’t force a horse to drink. During those days, porn is not as easily accessible as today. Internet is virtually unheard of here in Malaysia during the early ’80. All I did was recommend him to some novels in the school library. Some might say those novels are highly questionable but the teachers and librarians are hardly the bookworm type. They know not what they bought. By the way, in my defense, let me clarify. I introduced those books to him because it is well written. I’m just helping him improve his English. Really.

Anyway, we had great times together. Mum liked him too. He often had lunch at my place after school. Mum always made him feel welcome. However, I hardly ever go to his place. His parents are kinda scary. Even to him. So we usually hang out at my place. homework, tv, meals, games etc.

Despite his time at my place he never knew about my family situation. He never knew about my parents arguing a lot. He doesn’t know the sleepless nights I had thinking about my parents. Aren’t best friends suppose to share everything? Aren’t there suppose to be no secrets? I guess I was too ashamed.

After my parents divorced, he still did not know. All I told him was that my parents are moving back to hometown. We were sad. But we kept in touch. Every year, the festive cards never fails to arrive. Letters to each other were frequent. We always update each other about the mischief we got into that month. However, as the years go by, we communicated less and less. The only correspondence were the greeting cards.

8 years later, I came back to the city. We met up and I’m surprised to see that he hasn’t changed one bit. But I’ve changed a lot, according to him, that is. He introduced me to his girlfriend. She’s a bit on the meaty side I might add. Definitely not the dream girl that he was always raving about having one day. Oh well, he has matured.

Even then, as adults, I still find it embarrassing to tell him about my family situation. I wanted to tell him but I just couldn’t. Don’t know why. I always make up stories about my parents whenever he asked. I hated his questions although I know I know he meant well.

2 years after I moved back to the city, one morning we were out having breakfast. Just he and I. I blurted it out. I told him what happened to my parents, why I went back to Ipoh and why I didn’t tell him all these. He sat there listening quietly. When I finished. He looked me in the eyes and said he understood what I was going through. He thanked me for telling him and assured me that he will always be there to support me. I’m so grateful for a friend like him

A few months after that, I got a girlfriend. I called him out to have a double date. The first thing he said to my girlfriend after introductions was, “You know, your boyfriend was the one who introduced me to porn…“

What an idiot. Grr…

Desperate

Ever been in a desperate situation?

I woke up one morning to a strange sound. It sounded like someone trying to throw up. Like when a woman is in the early stages of pregnancy. But this sounded slightly different. There’s a tone that made it sound alarming. I immediately went out my room to check it out.

The sound came from my mother’s room. I called out to her but there was no reply. I went in to her room. Mum was sitting on her bed slightly leaned back balanced with one arm. Her shirt was wet with sweat and she was pale. I ran up to her and asked her what’s wrong. She couldn’t answer. She just stared at me with fear in her eyes. She couldn’t move either.

I called the ambulance. No one picked up. Desperate I called the fire department. They redirected me to another agency dealing with emergency matters. A lady picked up the call. I asked for an ambulance. Before getting the ambulance, she start asking for my details like national identity number, house phone number and mobile phone number. I was getting angry. All these questions seem so unimportant. Then she asked me what wrong. I told her my mother’s condition. She asked more questions why is she in that state. I shouted at her, “I’m not a doctor! I need an ambulance now!” She said the ambulance will be there within half an hour. I was speechless.

Maybe what they said is true. Don’t believe everything you see on tv. Whenever somebody dial 911, the police, ambulance or fire department would be there within minutes. But here in Malaysia, they will play the 20 questions game with you. But what choice do I have? I waited.

I kept talking to my mum although she couldn’t answer me. Then it strike me. Is she having a stroke attack? I began to panicked. I thought of carrying her to my car and bring her to the hospital myself. But I wasn’t sure if I can move someone who just had stroke. Also, it’s very risky for me to carry her down the stairs. Mum isn’t exactly light. Finally I thought I’ll just risked it.

10 minutes later, out of a sudden, mum moved her hand. Slowly but surely, her breathing slowed to normal and she’s no more gasping. When she was able to stand up and move, I helped her down the stairs and to my car after calling back to the emergency number to cancel the ambulance. Believe it or not, the ambulance haven’t left yet.

I drove her to the hospital. At the emergency ward, the nurses and doctor immediately took over. All this while, although I was panicking, I was still very cool and clear minded on what I needed to do. After mum was pushing in to the ER, I called my office to take the day, off explaining my situation. Then I called my uncle to let him know what happened.  After that, I just sat outside waiting.

Then, I broke down and cried.