Ride

I don't like poems. I said it several times. I don't poems for the same reasons why Psalms' not my favourite book. I may change my mind and it may begin with this poem, for the times I cried during a ride in a cab.

In the Back of a Cab

DAMIAN ROGERS

I lean my body against the door of a car I’ll never ride in again.
The dark shapes of the city collect and collapse
as I shut my eyes on a place I never made my own.
In the long line of stores and restaurants I’ll never visit
your name blinks on a sign that says it has your pizza.
I’ve never found my name on any sign, in any city.
So many people are moving around me on these streets,
invisible within the labyrinth of skyscraper and subway.
I imagine their mouths twisted with longing and fear.
Not one of them knows where I am.

They can’t know how I planned to save us all
with the secret of human happiness
which just this morning I held in my hand like a stone.

But today was too long,
now all I remember is a few lines from a song,
something about 20,000 roads
how they all lead back to me,
here, alone in a stranger’s car.

Maybe each of us, at least once, has cried in the back of a cab,
in the middle of the night, hoping the driver,
who politely pretended that we didn’t exist,
would devote the rest of his life to taking us home.

God's perfect timing

For the first time in a long while or for as long as I remember, God is slow in answering my prayers, as I understand slowness. He would take years before my prayers would be answered.

``Why? you notti huh? That's why God took so long.'' N said.

``I don't know lar. Maybe He wants me to learn patience. So I pray, but I don't expect an immediate answer. I prepare my mind that it would take a few years. Then God answered my prayer within two days the other day. I was so amazed and grateful. I was like WOOWWWW.''

I wanted to tell N what that prayer was but he looked distracted and the ice-cream on my caramel banana pieces was melting, calling for my attention.

``So, you going for church camp?''

``Yes. Of course. You know what happened last church camp what. I couldn't stop talking about the camp for at least a month.''

N laughed. He knew. He was hearing camp stories on a daily basis.

``Last year, I came back transformed. Things that I didn't knew I would be able to accept or do, I actually accept and carry them out. Even I was amazed and you were too.''

N laughed again.

``So this year you would come back wanting to be a missionary?''

``Walau. you are a prophet? How do you know this year theme is Missions?'' I paused and looked thoughtful. ``Hmmm...I think you are right. This year, I probably come back from camp, wanting to be a missionary. Wow, I think you have a gift of prophecy''

N looked annoyed.

My mind went through the conversation I had with a friend yesterday.

``D, you want to learn how to hear God? You pray, make sure your daily walk with Him is solid. You will hear him.''

``huh?'' I was frowning.

``You would know what he is saying. I asked him in the afternoon to remind me to pray for David. and he did. I was walking out of the bathroom, there was a reminder in my head. It's Him. He never fails. He really really never fails.''

``Ok.'' still frowning.

``You go home or go back to your office and pray for that. You will hear him speak.''

``Ok. Got like that one mei?'' Half-belief. ``But that is pretty dangerous. How do you know whether that is from Him or from the devil? I am rather apprehensive about following things like that or something unreliable like emotions. On some days, you feel like you rather be dead, then you go and die? That is unrealiable.''

``It can only come when you are close to Him. You know whether it is from Him or not. Everything is based on prayers.''

``So I can ask for a sign? I can cast lots. Like how those guys chose the person to replace Judas in Acts?''

``Errr....ok, just pray first lar. train yourself. You would know.''

Back to my caramel bananas and N.

So hmmmm....is this what He has intended for me to hear? I am going to be a missionary? Can't wait for church camp. What does He want me to be?

Lost in translation

UN ethusiatically said, tell me everything.

I was a little taken aback. She asked as if it was a good thing.

``I don't want to talk about it,'' I whined loudly. ``But let me tell you something funny.''

So I looked thoughtful for a while. Should I tell her my crush or should I tell her my lunch partner that day?

``I had a crush on my doctor.''

UN had a blank look. Ok, not funny, I guess.

``ok ok...let me tell you my lunch partner. I had a minor episode of lost in translation. My lunch partner is a promising young xxx. He would be an ideal lunch partner except that he has a super strong french accent....

We took a walk from his place to the restuarant where I planned to impress him with some neo-chinese food which I thought a french dude like him wouldn't have had it before.

``So you just came back from your vacation?'' I asked, trying to strike a conversation whom I intimidating with my questions the last time I interviewed him. I wanted to make atonement, hence this lunch.

``Yes, came back from south france., xxx, that is where my parents stay. you know where?''

I had no idea where he came back from. But I know where South France is. I have been there.

``Yayya. I have been to Marseille.''

''Oh really. Do you know that I stayed there for more than 10 years?''

He turned and looked at me. I caught his look and quickly shook my head sincerely, looking really disturbed that I actually didn't know that he stayed there for 10 years. How would I know? Some people have very high expectation of my psychic skills, which I have none.

``It is not a very sexual place.'' He said, looking down.

WHAT????? What did he just say? I was frightened. What did I just do? Invited him for lunch?

``Err....what do you mean by sexual?'' I asked, shaking with fear. What kind of a person would explain about a place being not sexual enough. Maybe he should go stay in Sodom.

``It is not a very safe place like Singapore. Here is safe.''

I burst out laughing. ``Oh, secured. I heard something else.''

''What did you hear?'' He bent down and blocked me with half his body, putting his face in front of me.

``I heard err....I heard.....errr...I dont' think I want to repeat that.''

Finally, we were at the table. We ordered. Ok, ok, ok, it is a full episode of Lost in Translation. Stop complaining. let me finish.

"I am also a christian.'' He said after finding out that I am.

I looked up puzzled. How could I miss that?

``Catholic.'' I stopped frowning. That explains. ``But I don't go to church. I am a very good catholic.'' He looked a little smug when he said that. I frowned.

``How does one learn the ways of a good christian if he does not go to church or read the bible. You mean he can dream it up in his head?'' I asked.

``You don't believe I am a good catholic? I know I am. I have integrity...." He explained.

''I believe,'' cutting him short. ``How did you become a catholic?''

``My family is catholic. My grandma. she goes to church everyday. But I don't think she is a good catholic.''

``Well, you know, all of us are given different resources in life. Maybe your grandma was given a broken car and she can't help but have a bumpy ride most of the time. If you put in trying situations all the time, it would be difficult for you to be nice all the time. Maybe your grandma has a difficult grandson to deal with.'' I bit my tongue.

``You mean I am difficult?'' He said in his strongest french accent and I understood perfectly for some strange reason.

``Errrr.....I mean....no...you are not.''

.............

UN laughed. "that is so funny. You should write all these down and turn it to a book or something.''

No way. I write these sort of things on my blog. Either these or some depressing stuff. But never something that reflects my intelligent mind,maybe I have none, that's why?''

''UN, stopped laughing. let me finish. that is still the last part to this lost in translation episode.''

UN rolled her eyes and said. '' Ok.''

So on the way back, he asked me whether I knew a columnist who writes about aviation.

''He seems to be an expert in that field.'' he said.

``How does he know all that he know then?''

``because he is a jerk?''

``What? He is a jerk?'' I couldn't believe what I heard.

``No. I said it is his job.''

I laughed and shook my head.

``My english is so good that you don't understand it. And you never fail to let me know that.'' I understood that perfectly. strange, whenever it is a sarcasm, I would catch it.

Nursing in the den

I am a crabby mood lately. Like a lion who has been wounded nursing in its den, I groaned and ready to snap at anyone who unwittingly step into my den.

Down with a bad sore throat with a fever threatening to come, a phone call rouse me from my sleep.

``hello.'' My voice was dead.

``Err....Denise?''

``Yes.'' Dead.

``Eerrr......Is this Denise?''

``Yes!'' Swallowing "what do you want?!!!!"

``Oh hi I am Q.''

Yes, yes. I am so looking forward to your call. Grrrrrr......!!!!!!

I strained my rather sore throat and managed to say hi in a more chirpy voice. But it hurt.

``How are you?'' Q asked.

I rolled my eyes. I hate the how are you questions. When people ask that, they don't really want to know. I know they won't like it if I give an honest answer. Then why even ask? They put you in a position where you have to lie.

``Good.'' Voice's dead, not feigning chirpy anymore, my sharpened paws ready to go out if Q made the wrong move.

``Oh, you called yesterday. I am...So, I can xxx....how do you want to collect this?''

``I can walk over to pick it up. No worries. Thanks much.''

``Huh??? Walk over? Walk from where? Where are you now?''

He sounded scared. Gee, I am not a monster. Irritated because he made me sound like I am a monster.

``Where are you?"

Patience worn to its thinnest and snapped. Grrrrrr......... Paws out, but managed to stop in time.

``Opposite? I can collect it. No worries. Just leave it at the counter. Thanks.''

``Oh...hahaha....ok..ok." He gave a nervous laugh.

Frowned. Patience wearing even thinner. Thought it was the thinnest then.

Instead of examining my bad behavior and being repentant, I am scheming to ask him the "How are You" question the next time I meet him before he ask me.

This is how it will go:-

Q: Hi Denise. How..a..
(Me chimed in, cutting him off.)
Me: Hey hey. (in a high chirpy voice) How are you?
Q: Oh, good. good. (nobody will say bad. they always say good.)
Me: Good? Why good? How can you be good? Can't be true. No one can be good in this despondent world with all these dieases and suffering. Why do you want to lie to me?
Q: oh, but I am really good.
Me: You are good? You are a good liar. Tell me how did you master your art. I asked you how you are because I am concerned and I have all the time in the world to listen to your grievances. Instead, you patronise me with an answer like that. Why do you want to do that to me, to a person with such a good heart and have so much time in her hands, who all she wants to know is how you are doing really?
Q: But I am good. Really.
Me: Liar. You are persistent, aren't you?
Q: (upset) What do you want from me?
Me: I want to know how you are? (ahemm...back to chirpy voice.) How are you?
Q: (pause for a long while.) Why don't I prescribe you euthanasia?
Me: huh? mercy killing?
Q: yes, mercy killing. But in this case, it is not to end your suffering, but to end others', such as mine.
Me: Oooiii

Q wins. He always win, even in my small and imaginary world.

Just then, a SMS came in: Bring Water.

?????

I laughed.

I laughed again.

Funny. Q may want to put me to death, but I am someone else's Oasis. I do serve a purpose in life.

Wait a minute? What water? Oh dear. Tennis. Gggggrrr.........I forgot. But wait a minute. I am sick. Can't go. Sigh.....back to my scheme of making Q's life miserable. Plot! Plot! Plot!

Ni Voices

Too late for a story. Too good to pass them on. Voices, they have been swimming in my head, flooding my mind. I want to remember them.

``Don’t cry. Most of the time I am happy. Please don’t cry. I am happy most of the time. Really.’’

``The most difficult time was when my mom passed away. She was the only person whom I can rely on for love. She is the only person who love me unconditionally.’’

``I have many blessings. Many. So don’t cry.’’

``I have many good friends. ED is one. When I walked pass some funerals, I wonder who would come. Will there be 2 or 3 people? But those few nights, the whole place was packed full of people. My ex boss was there everyday. She said: be strong, I will be there to support you.’’

``My parents sold me for 2 dollars. My mom said I am the cheapest baby.’’

``I always feel loved. They made sure that I know I was loved.’’

``I let him eat. Luckily, I said yes. I let him. He ate.’’

``I had to make a decision then. Let her live for another few more months or a few weeks. I had to make one then. ED said why are you so selfish, let her go.’’

``When she said, mom, I have no future. That hurt a lot and deeply. I had nothing to say to her, except to tell her to live the best that she can.’’

It was her parting words that stoked fear that is already rising, fear that an enormous calamity, one that would break my bones and soul, is about to come.

``All the things I said to you may sound bad. But when these things happen, you will have strength to face them. I can assure you.’’

My mind must have been taken over by someone. I can’t seem to work it today. Those voices are still swimming in my head.

One Month

Soon, for a month, I can't play tennis. All the hard work that I put in for the last one month recovering my play will be gone to waste. I will have to start all over again. I haven't even regain 80 percent. Sigh....this is frustrating. I can always blame it on the racquet again.