lost in translation
i'm a pig. ok not quite. i'm born in the year of the pig. somehow that translates into laziness, for i remembered a story about how the animals of the zodiac had to race to determine their chronological order of appearance in the lunar calendar. maybe laziness is not the word i am looking for. how would u then describe a person destined into a life that is obstinate and frank to the point of being tactless? a horse so full of vitality, life and energy? or a tiger with issues? or just a cunning little rat who's there for the ride, belittling others' efforts albeit triumphant in the end? so at the end of it all i'm just confused, for i don't think chinese zodiacs makes sense to me in the first place and the reason why i thought of relating myself to these animals and their natural characteristics or animosity is because back in school, my chinese friends talked about it and told me stories about zodiacs and many others. so i told my mom about it since i thought she would know something and enlightened me. it would end up with;
"why u like to mix with chinese people so much this boy? you see lah bang(to my father) your little son here will end up marrying a chinese girl i tell you!" she would laugh. in primary school she like to torment me or something she made me go to school with Weiling, this pretty chinese girl i sat to next in class. She still says that when i'm in secondary school (she thought i liked weishan and i did but didn;t want to tell her), in JC(it was melanie but no!!! i didn't like MElanie at all!!). so now in uni i piss her off by saying i'm migrating to the states to get married to some ABC girl.and i'm like wondering why i said that? but the pertinent question is...why me? why not my brother? or my sister..who looks chinese and has some guy by the name of David Chua being nice to her and all in school (haha..i opened her journal..so stupid to leave it lying around..all ur secrets all over the place..ahaha)?
that's the thing about my mom you see. she has this empowering voice which you can't help but listen to. that voice amplifying her conservative views and old-charm vulnerabilities in post-modernist world. i still wonder how anyone can possibly stay put in time as the globe rotates, swirls and twirls; traversing new time space periodicity. but she's still my mommy.
i think she gets this idea from observing me throughout the years of my life. like she thinks im going to be a disappointment one day (like all the time). she says one time that i'm too smart for my own good! while she loves me being smart and all throughout, especially at the end of the year when taufik tops the standard again and again, its a disadvantage at home when i can't voice out my opinions like how i hated when she showed me off to her friends' and other relatives, about how i cant bring my book along everytime we had a family outing and we have to enjoy the company of one another and extended family, about how it irks me when she just throws my books around and never according it respect in my own terms and many more.
she thinks i read too much decadent "western" books." see lah this boy read all the ang moh books. i never seen him touch a single malay book in this house. he's going to 'outsmart' me one day hahaha," she tells one of my aunts when i know deep inside lies insecurities and fear of letting me into the hands of the education system. still at that point she doesn't know i wrote damn good malay compositions, essays and penned malay poems for the local newpaper or that everytime my compos appeared in the model essay booklet the school gives out annually. all along she thinks my malayness dissolved into a society i blended in so well in that it seemed so natural that my association with the significant other is the only way she sees the finalty in me.
my mother and i have a complex tension. i use the word tension because it's always tension. fro young i argue all the time, for my self perceived rightiousness. from reasoning why i had to buy files to obsolete pencils and crayons and through my adolescent years, where mothers' words fall into sentences sounding like "yack yack or bla bla²". mutually however at times we are like what i would describe it as ice cream, as i remembered why it was that eating something so good can make u feel terrible and that vomiting something so terrible can make me feel so good.
as for me all this while i thought of my mother as someone i had to take care of, without giving her the piece of mind of independent think she deserves, well not really all but sometimes she makes me decide things which i hated doing, which further affirms that my mom is a fickle person whose indecisive nature is like the death of me. so obviously i was wrong. beneath her disposition there's this intelligent woman trying to connect to me. but she finds it difficult and i find it difficult. as much as i try to deny the problem is me, i can't for i know the problem with this failing bridging attempts has been me. me me me. so i think she thinks its her and me, while i think its her and me. so end up thinking and not resolving. for we have so many unspoken translations of thoughts waiting to be stream out of our heads but cant even in the comforts of home. we tried once, i think, and she got a shock at american-style explosion, and that was that she kept quiet for days i recalled. so being me, i wanted to win all the time and i know my mom would be the one coming back to me and not vice versa. so i displayed my acts like doing my homework watching tv with my brother,playing video games which i never played not doing my homework, sure that i would get my way and attention i had the right to. i was wrong she didnt wake up for school anymore, not asking me whether i ate already or ironed my clothes or scolding me for not washing the dishes. she was just quiet. i almost cried. it went on for like 6 days. i was so wrong so stupid thinking i can outsmart her. somehow that effect i think lasted till today and sianfully it sucks, when i know it's me me me. i envy those who are otherwise normal and how i longed to be like Firdaus, khairul, Azman or Sobri who share more love than loathe. sometimes i feel like running away making plans and all but never materialise, for after that bout of anger vanquish, after the similarly vehement hatred for my mom abates, i would surrender myself to her innocence and demeanor and it;s a vicous cycle and i hate myself for that. still i'm still thinking such tendencies are commonplace for men like me. outright denial.
which reminds me of a conversation i had with my mom last time.
i just purchased this small table for my room and placed a glass plague i got on it and the base of the table was irregular and i loved it for it reflects fluidity in contrast to my room's edges and sharp corners and bends. so she placed her handbag one fine Sunday after attending a wedding function, i said," Careful the base is not stable, it might just fall and break the plague."
she was lamenting why i had to buy such a stupid looking table anyway. afterwards, i made my way to the kitchen to fix my favourite biscuits and milo in a bowl.
then, i heard clank!! and in my mind i knew it. i went back to the room and i saw my mother picking up my dirty clothes for laundry and not even apologising for breaking the plague.she just said," oh it dropped."
"it doesn;t matter,"i said," i knew this would happen one!!"
"then why don't you prevent it in the first place?" she responded.
And it was such a simple question.......
"why u like to mix with chinese people so much this boy? you see lah bang(to my father) your little son here will end up marrying a chinese girl i tell you!" she would laugh. in primary school she like to torment me or something she made me go to school with Weiling, this pretty chinese girl i sat to next in class. She still says that when i'm in secondary school (she thought i liked weishan and i did but didn;t want to tell her), in JC(it was melanie but no!!! i didn't like MElanie at all!!). so now in uni i piss her off by saying i'm migrating to the states to get married to some ABC girl.and i'm like wondering why i said that? but the pertinent question is...why me? why not my brother? or my sister..who looks chinese and has some guy by the name of David Chua being nice to her and all in school (haha..i opened her journal..so stupid to leave it lying around..all ur secrets all over the place..ahaha)?
that's the thing about my mom you see. she has this empowering voice which you can't help but listen to. that voice amplifying her conservative views and old-charm vulnerabilities in post-modernist world. i still wonder how anyone can possibly stay put in time as the globe rotates, swirls and twirls; traversing new time space periodicity. but she's still my mommy.
i think she gets this idea from observing me throughout the years of my life. like she thinks im going to be a disappointment one day (like all the time). she says one time that i'm too smart for my own good! while she loves me being smart and all throughout, especially at the end of the year when taufik tops the standard again and again, its a disadvantage at home when i can't voice out my opinions like how i hated when she showed me off to her friends' and other relatives, about how i cant bring my book along everytime we had a family outing and we have to enjoy the company of one another and extended family, about how it irks me when she just throws my books around and never according it respect in my own terms and many more.
she thinks i read too much decadent "western" books." see lah this boy read all the ang moh books. i never seen him touch a single malay book in this house. he's going to 'outsmart' me one day hahaha," she tells one of my aunts when i know deep inside lies insecurities and fear of letting me into the hands of the education system. still at that point she doesn't know i wrote damn good malay compositions, essays and penned malay poems for the local newpaper or that everytime my compos appeared in the model essay booklet the school gives out annually. all along she thinks my malayness dissolved into a society i blended in so well in that it seemed so natural that my association with the significant other is the only way she sees the finalty in me.
my mother and i have a complex tension. i use the word tension because it's always tension. fro young i argue all the time, for my self perceived rightiousness. from reasoning why i had to buy files to obsolete pencils and crayons and through my adolescent years, where mothers' words fall into sentences sounding like "yack yack or bla bla²". mutually however at times we are like what i would describe it as ice cream, as i remembered why it was that eating something so good can make u feel terrible and that vomiting something so terrible can make me feel so good.
as for me all this while i thought of my mother as someone i had to take care of, without giving her the piece of mind of independent think she deserves, well not really all but sometimes she makes me decide things which i hated doing, which further affirms that my mom is a fickle person whose indecisive nature is like the death of me. so obviously i was wrong. beneath her disposition there's this intelligent woman trying to connect to me. but she finds it difficult and i find it difficult. as much as i try to deny the problem is me, i can't for i know the problem with this failing bridging attempts has been me. me me me. so i think she thinks its her and me, while i think its her and me. so end up thinking and not resolving. for we have so many unspoken translations of thoughts waiting to be stream out of our heads but cant even in the comforts of home. we tried once, i think, and she got a shock at american-style explosion, and that was that she kept quiet for days i recalled. so being me, i wanted to win all the time and i know my mom would be the one coming back to me and not vice versa. so i displayed my acts like doing my homework watching tv with my brother,playing video games which i never played not doing my homework, sure that i would get my way and attention i had the right to. i was wrong she didnt wake up for school anymore, not asking me whether i ate already or ironed my clothes or scolding me for not washing the dishes. she was just quiet. i almost cried. it went on for like 6 days. i was so wrong so stupid thinking i can outsmart her. somehow that effect i think lasted till today and sianfully it sucks, when i know it's me me me. i envy those who are otherwise normal and how i longed to be like Firdaus, khairul, Azman or Sobri who share more love than loathe. sometimes i feel like running away making plans and all but never materialise, for after that bout of anger vanquish, after the similarly vehement hatred for my mom abates, i would surrender myself to her innocence and demeanor and it;s a vicous cycle and i hate myself for that. still i'm still thinking such tendencies are commonplace for men like me. outright denial.
which reminds me of a conversation i had with my mom last time.
i just purchased this small table for my room and placed a glass plague i got on it and the base of the table was irregular and i loved it for it reflects fluidity in contrast to my room's edges and sharp corners and bends. so she placed her handbag one fine Sunday after attending a wedding function, i said," Careful the base is not stable, it might just fall and break the plague."
she was lamenting why i had to buy such a stupid looking table anyway. afterwards, i made my way to the kitchen to fix my favourite biscuits and milo in a bowl.
then, i heard clank!! and in my mind i knew it. i went back to the room and i saw my mother picking up my dirty clothes for laundry and not even apologising for breaking the plague.she just said," oh it dropped."
"it doesn;t matter,"i said," i knew this would happen one!!"
"then why don't you prevent it in the first place?" she responded.
And it was such a simple question.......
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