Chasing Rainbows

At work, my students think I’m a happy person. Some even called me ‘cute’ because I’m short, plump and wear colourful outfits. In reality, I just feel like sitting down somewhere and just cry my heart out where nobody can hear me.

Today, from the moment I started the engine of my car to the moment I parked it at work, I was practically chasing after a rainbow. My iPod also chose the same time to shuffle every sentimental song it has throughout the journey. Seriously, I would have spent a few minutes calming myself down if I was not running late. I just… couldn’t help but cry as I drive to work.

Like I said, it felt like I just CHASED after a rainbow.

The phrase quickly turned into ‘CHASING RAINBOWS’ – trying to achieve something impossible or impractical.

Being able to live in the same home as my husband still seems like a faraway dream at the moment. It’s like the only option we both have is to take a long study leave to enrol in full-time Masters degree. That would mean leaving my sickly mother alone, though. I don’t want to do that. It is an evil thing to do. At the same time, my husband doesn’t have the heart to work where he’s currently working.

I can’t afford to spend over RM500 every two weeks for plane tickets. At this rate, we’ll end up being as miserable as those separated by peninsulas. Other people can pay for the instalment of their first homes with the amount of money my husband and I spend just to see each other for a very short time. We dare not even dream of going on holidays. We just have too little time together.

I’m feeling more and more lethargic.

As I write this entry, I’m having trouble breathing.

I almost had an asthma attack at work today because of stress and fatigue. The form 1 kids from the last class were being too difficult. I shed some tears in class. At work. Yes, I friggin cried AT WORK. I couldn’t be worse than this. At least, I hope so.

KPM, won’t you help me bring back my old, chirpy self who was so full of creative and innovative ideas…or am I just chasing rainbows?

272 Days and a Jumbled Up Monologue

Precisely, mine and Zaki’s 😉

Ever since I sort of lost touch with drawing and writing, I realised I haven’t blogged about the most important event that changed the way things are now. Yeah, I’m happily married to my super loving husband. Now let me have a flashback for a bit.

The Making of the Video

I was calm during our solemnisation ceremony. Due to a funny slip-up that should never be mentioned, I wanted to cry but ended up chuckling instead at that time. Well, it was….um…. funny and everyone else laughed so yeah 😛 It did feel surreal. It was like, wow, one minute I was still a “Miss” and the next minute I am a “Mrs”. Above all, I thank Allah for giving my parents the opportunity to marry meoff.  I hope they’re happy and at peace that all of their children are married and have good jobs.

The next day was our reception. well, he was late for a bit but that’s okay. Everything else went smoothly. One of the hantarans from him to me was an X-Box 360 + Kinect (hahaha I know, I know) so I remember that after the day ended, we wasted no time setting up the console and giving some games a go. It was fun playing games and goofing around in front of the screen now that we could be in the same room together.

Now, 272 days later, I’m here typing this up while missing him. It hasn’t been easy. I’m in Kelantan and he’s working in Johor. Direct flights KBR-JHB  are only available at a very inconvenient time when every soul is working in the mornings of  Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. We’ve been using the KBR-KUL-JHB-KUL-KBR route all this time because of different weekends and distance. It is time consuming and very costly but we have no other choice if we want to meet. KPM apparently wouldn’t approve of his transfer. What’s worse is that his power-hungry autocratic admin is a major fucked-up asshole who probably doesn’t want us to ever meet, making CRKs and MCs hard (well I pray Allah gives her what she deserves when it’s due, perhaps a lonely death or sth).

The only thing we can both do is pray for an improvement – a transfer, better communication and perhaps, better bosses who actually believe in God and not think of their staff as mere unworthy underlings. InsyaAllah.

p.s/ My ranting in Malay language is over at http://www.dakwathitam.com

A mother’s last responsibility and her lifelong dream

It’s never easy to talk about this but my mother makes me face reality every single day anyway. There is no way for me to escape reality because she is always there to remind me. I don’t mind it all that much when it’s true. Most of the time, she’s got a point and her points are always sharp.

Let’s face it. Everyone who knows me knows that I am the only daughter of the family. I am also the youngest child. What do you think the parents’ last responsibility towards a daughter would be? It shouldn’t be that hard to guess, should it? Of course it would be to see that their daughter is happily married to a good man. The ceremony and the reception (or just the kenduri) is also the responsibility of the parents. Why do you think their names are listed as the host and hostess in the invitation card? Sheesh.

Now. My mother has a dream. A lifelong dream of seeing a properly planned wedding of her daughter. This, she told me ever since I was young – ever since I had no intention of marrying anyone (obviously before my fiance found the key to my heart, lol). She is the type of person who likes to plan early. She likes to plan meticulously, as do I. We aren’t perfectionists. We just like to see everything go as smoothly as it can. That’s not a bad trait, right?

She did not get to plan my brothers’ weddings, nope. That was not her responsibility, obviously (duh!). She planned the majlis bertandang or majlis sambut menantu or simply the groom’s reception, which by our norm here (at that time) is normal if it’s just held in a simpler manner. Just a doa selamat would suffice. Well, that was over five years ago, though. I suppose things have changed.

Back to the topic at hand. SO, my mom has a lifelong dream of seeing my wedding reception held at our house, obviously with her daughter and her son-in-law all dolled up beautifully, with pretty deco around us and good food that cost no greater than what we can afford. My parents remind me all the time that the reception is THEIR responsibility, so it will be THEIR money. What I can do is help out as much as I can and provide monetary support only when it’s appropriate. It sounds weird but that’s my parents for you. When it’s their job, it’s their job. I offer my help all the time, of course, because I like to plan too. Buying new furnitures, house improvements, you name it. Sometimes, they approve. Sometimes, they say “don’t, we’ll do that later. Keep your money”. Most of the time, they tell me:

Just let us carry out our last responsibility in peace.

It makes me smile a bitter smile all the time. Always. It makes me happy. It makes me sad. It’s a reminder that we’re all getting older. It’s a reminder that I am no longer a child. At the same time, it’s also a reminder that they acknowledge me as a full-fledge adult now. I thank her for that.

Dear Allah, please bless my parents with health, longevity and happiness. They’ve brought me up as a responsible human being who can now contribute to society. They built comfortable home for their children to grow up in. They provided me with all the necessities I need while growing up and more. Please let my mother carry out her last responsibility and realise her lifelong dream in peace too.

Amin ya rabbal alamin.

Everyone’s mother is different but I would like to believe that every mother loves her children. Every mother is willing to make sacrifices for her children without asking the children to make sacrifices for them first. My mother, I believe, is also like that and I hope I can become like that too one day if I’m blessed with children.

This Eid al-Adha, I also think of my parents’ sacrifices among all others. Happy Eid al-Adha everyone. May Allah’s blessings be with us always 🙂

p.s/ I’ve stopped counting my tears because with every count, my heart aches.

Nothing is pretty under direct sunlight

With my darling school kiddos ♥

My practicum ends in three days. It seems like yesterday I had a bout of denial about going to school and teaching for real. It was a long road full of challenges but also a lot of fun. When you see the children’s faces lighting up in amusement at whatever you do in the classroom, you feel as though you’ve done something right. That was how my practicum had been up until today.

Weekdays: My weekdays have been hijacked by practicum. I’m not complaining much about it. Not really. I was actually quite amused that the English classes I took over were almost always on the last period before they changed the schedule completely just before Ramadhan. My classes mostly ended at 6.45pm. Funny, really… Shops are not yet open early in the morning. After school, I only have a few hours before the hostel curfew. Ergh. Afternoon session can be very depressing at times. No more cheap student-price movies on weekdays. Hello extra charges on weekends! It will come back to normal next week, though. I should feel happy right?

Car: Honestly speaking, I never thought I’d have a car this year. The car I have now, my first car, is courtesy of my parents, my brother and my sis-in-law. The last couple of weeks were filled to the brim with work, work, and more work. Before getting the car, I went to school from IPBA to SMK Seri Saujana by taxi. On good days, the trip cost around RM25 per day, shared by two people. On days where the taxi drivers or the weather try to screw us over, the cost can go up to RM30+ in just one day. SOBS. I had to walk downhill to find taxis, holding more than 3 bags weighing over 2kg each. It’s very unfair when you think about the ones who don’t have to pay as much for taxi fares because they’re either very close to their homes or very close to the hostel (depending on where they’re staying at).

School kids: When I first came in, I was scared to take over their classes. I have no idea how I was supposed to teach them near the end of the year when they were already used to their current English teacher. Everything turned out okay in the end, though, and I’m glad. I’ll post another entry when practicum ends about the wonderful kids I had the fortune to teach.

Relationships: Friendship and romantic relationship were tested to the fullest during the practicum, at least in my opinion. You learn how to juggle workload and manage time so that you can still communicate with each other during this busy time. So many time we hurt each other because this is the time when we feel cornered by so many tasks, lesson plans, observations and our own selfishness. Crying myself to sleep becomes something normal to do every night when everyone else doesn’t notice. Let’s see if anything changes after practicum ends 🙂

Money: This issue is of extreme importance. Paying for so many things on our own is tough. Extremely tough. From petrol to photocopies to many other extras – and the claim takes a bloody long time to come in because some idiots from our course decided not to give shits. I don’t care if they’re friends. They’re still douchebags for failing to do what they were supposed to do. When it concerns money, I will be very touchy. It’s not just practicum.

It’s been a long time since my last blog entry. I think I forgot how to write 😐

Sorting Memories & Walking on a puff of air

I thought the most flattering thing a girl could ever receive from a guy on his confession is a bouquet of red roses. Apparently, I was wrong. Being presented with a ring that carries so many of a person’s hope and feelings defeats all other thoughts I may have had. Maybe I was dumbstrucked by the words he said, or maybe it was the ring, which strangely fits my ring finger so well. I’m not so conceited as to think that maybe, this is fate that was waiting to happen, but I was hit by pleasant warm feelings that made me all calm, warm and fuzzy.

If you ask me where, when and how it started, I won’t be able to tell you because I myself don’t even know. I was pretty convinced that it wasn’t me he liked, considering his adamant repetition of “I don’t want a teacher” and the sudden “It definitely wouldn’t be me” when I joked with my friends about something like “Lol, who the heck is the poor husband who marries me XD”. What was I supposed to think when someone tells me something like that? I guess you can say that that was the first time I sort of thought that he thought I like him, and that he was giving reminders to me so I don’t continue liking him. Surely you wouldn’t be so serious telling other people the criteria of the partner you want in life, especially when the criteria goes against the other people, unless you want them to get away from you… right?

Or so I thought. So in an attempt to make him feel at ease with me, I summoned the picture of someone I used to have feelings for and used the feelings I once had for him to pretend I was still hung up on him. I felt bad for using people, but hey, I was trying to preserve a friendship here! If he thinks I like someone else, surely he won’t think I, um, like him…right?

Again, so I thought.

Now let’s fast forward a little bit. He started talking to me more. He started spending more time with me , and for some unknown reasons, I couldn’t find it in me to turn him down when he asks me out for dinner etc, even if he was asking me in his roundabout ways most of the time (until I had to ask him ‘Do you want me to accompany you?’. Seriously!). At this point, people who know me well started giving me hints, pointers and whatever else you’d call a wild rumour. Catcalls? That’s the least of my worry then. Of course I didn’t believe them. In my mind, he was still so adamant about wanting nothing to do with someone like me, so there’s no way he was spending time with me because he liked me more than just a friend.

Not much happened after that. So many beating around the bushes and so many hints that I regarded purely as false hints. A couple of days after the exam, we had dinner where he asked me to watch a movie with him at the cinema. I said yes because somehow, spending time with him has become something like a habit. We started YMing. For once, my YM behaved pretty nicely, so we ended up chatting for a whole night. In the middle of our conversation, he suddenly went into contemplative mode where he started a string of conversation I couldn’t understand (until much later). I know I’m slow when it concerns my own self, but I never thought I was that slow. I was so frustrated that I couldn’t understand what he was trying to tell me, so I cried. I always cry when my emotion is on the extremes – too frustrated, too angry, too sad… It’s just something I think I got from my Mom =)

I stared into the mirror for quite a while before I went to bed, thoughts swirling in my head. And then I thought about one person I thought I still have one-sided feelings for up until a certain point in time. Actually, I don’t quite feel anything for him anymore as I’ve learnt to let go over the years. I know I’ve stopped thinking about that person a couple of years back. I also know that at one point in time, I was mildly interested in him (him as in him, not that person) but I didn’t put much thought into it. That was foundation years, maybe? I couldn’t remember.

It took me a while to realise that I may possibly have stronger feelings for him after all, and that scared me into tears.

Moving on. The movie outing was nice but confusing as hell. I don’t know if he was simply teasing me, or if he’s trying to give more direct hints. Direct hints or not, I was not convinced. Time to pry a bit more? Yes, of course! I don’t really like prying, but my heart was at stake. If he really does feel something for me, maybe then I’d admit that I do feel something for him too. I’m too used to burying my feelings deep inside me, so I didn’t know how deep my feelings for him run. Even at that point in time, it’s probably deeper than I thought if he was affecting me so much in so many ways. Not amusing, okay? Hmph.

The next day, we went out with Hanin, watching the same movie. More hints and teasings. From ‘our house in the future’ to Love Letter to heart-shaped onigiris, right until before we went back. I was waiting for a time where he won’t suspect a question from me, so I asked him midway as we were walking to the taxi stand. I hate to recall our brief conversation because I totally interpreted what he said as something along the lines of ‘I’m actually just using you in order to rediscover my feelings‘. That was my interpretation. The hurt intensified. I was ready for a firm ‘No, I don’t feel anything for you’ or ‘No, I was just playing with you’ or ‘No, I don’t like you.’

I never cried so hard out of frustration and possibly anger in a long time. I cried so very hard for most part of the night until I fell asleep.  The last time I did something similar was probably in 2007 because of some issues… heh, not worth remembering. I was holding on to his phone and HDD at that time. Just one look and I got frustrated all over again. Heck, I even saw him in anything red and black, like my own Nintendo DS – and I got frustrated all over again and again and again. When I woke up in the middle of the night to find a few lines left by him on my IM, I let my fingers smash the keyboard keys. I let him know how hurt I was, and I gave him an ultimatum. That wasn’t very nice of me, but I was tired. So very tired of feeling weighted down by the unknowns. In my own twisted way, I want to hurt him as much as he hurt me, or at least just let him feel the hurt I felt. I don’t care anymore. If he doesn’t tell me soon, if he continues to be so indifferent in his roundabout ways, if he asks me to forget about everything that transpired for the past few days, I’m not sure I could talk to him like I always did.

I was edgy the next day. I went into the lecture hall without looking up. I simply grabbed an empty seat and sat down. Hanin actually texted me to tell me that he was pestering her about wanting to talk to me. I actually smiled then. At least he still wanted to talk to me. I was actually scared that he’s just going to be the average guy who’d shrug everything off at his convenience. I’m not used to staying angry at someone for long, but this time, I’m not going to give in. I tell myself that I’m not at fault this time, so I’d wait for him to apologise. I thought I was going to have to wait for a few days.

Scratch a few days. Our conversation happened not a couple of hours after Mdm. Ooi’s lengthy speech about the INTEL course. It was a somewhat solemn conversation. I didn’t let him go the roundabout this time. What I wanted at that moment was blatant honesty – honesty that drips from his heart.

And honesty was what I got. I was expecting an apology when he gave me the three words a girl always wishes for deep down, even more so when those words were accompanied by a ring. I was so touched that again, tears came to my eyes. I didn’t realise I was such a crybaby. Did I wait for this? Did I wish for this to happen? Not really, as I was expecting an apology and a ‘let’s just be friends like always’ sort of speech. Was I happy? Yes, I was, and I am. He was shaking, and that just moved me to another extent.

How cute. And touching.

I was happy. So, so happy.

I accepted the ring. I accepted his feelings. I accepted his heart as I open my heart for him and him alone. I’ve never opened my heart to anyone else, even when they insisted that they really do like me. It felt as though a heavy burden had just be lifted off of my shoulders. And then I realised that all of this time, maybe, maybe I do feel for him longer than I thought.

How come I never realised he was the one I was waiting for in my life?

Somehow in the end, I’m just a girl who is always fearful of so many untold possibilities. Sometimes when I look at him, I think about how long he’s going to feel this way for me. I think about the possibility of him getting bored of me after a while, or of him realising that he’s chosen the wrong person after all. After all, I’m not that much of an interesting person to hang out with, I’m quite possessive, I get jealous quite easily (though I don’t show it), I’m not pretty, and the list goes on and on and on….

But well…

Dear Zaki,

When you’re in doubt, come back to this lengthy entry I wrote for you. Come back and read every word because I meant every word with all my heart. When you think I’m being annoying, come back to this entry and consider it my apology for being such a girly girl at times. When you think I’m being pushy and you can’t stand it, come back to this entry and see that I am just a scared person who might be thinking about you more than you’re thinking about me.

It’s okay if you don’t think about me so often. It’s okay if you don’t spend time with me so often. It’s okay if you don’t want to walk with me or stay next to me so often. It’s okay if you think I probably am not the one you imagine spending the rest of your life with. As long as your feelings for me are sincere, you’ll make me very happy, and I’ll try to make you happy too. I can’t promise much, but I can at least promise that I will try my hardest to not break your heart; so please try not to break mine. Please, please, please try. Maybe we’ll argue here and there, now and then, but that’s parts and parcel of life. As long as you stay loyal to me, I promise that my eyes won’t ever divert to another. We’ve both been through so much in this life. We’ve both been through (what you call) emotional blockades of sorts. We’ve both been heartbroken and used before. We both have deep scars that run deeper than anyone thinks.

I may not know what love really means, but I don’t mind learning the meanings with you.

Pinky promise?

Sealed with a flying kiss,

W. I. Adlina ~2010~
Written originally on May 12. Final revision written on June 8.
Approximately 2050 words.