I'm the story you never told. And I'm telling your story now. I'm telling the secrets you want to hide but can't keep hidden. Listen, as the fire crackles and the cat curls up on your lap. Listen, as your hair stands at uncanny reflections. Listen to your heart, screaming. listen, and dream.
Showing posts with label prose. Show all posts
Showing posts with label prose. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 2, 2013

Ah Gong


Ah Gong hates being in front of the camera unless he really has to. Or at least that’s what I get from him. He does things at his own pace and time, without explaining anything to the rest of us. That frustrates us quite a lot, because we don’t understand why he’s doing it in a certain way.

He likes to take walks. We used to let him do that on his own, but lately we get worried, because he’s getting older. We tried making him carry a hand phone around, but he didn’t want to. Until Ah Ma fell ill and got admitted into the hospital. Then we insisted that he did. I remember helping him to save my number into his phone for him and trying to teach him how to use it. I don’t think I did a good job though. And I probably confused him even more.

Ah Gong always worries for us. He’d call me on my hand phone every now and then to ask if I was home and if I had eaten. He’d ask if I’m doing well in school and encourages me to keep going. The phone calls don’t usually last longer than a minute because I’m always too busy for Ah Gong. I’m sorry. I’ll try to make them last longer.

Ah Gong likes to have simple food. He doesn’t like interesting or extravagant food like fusion dishes. Give him Teochew porridge and he’s happy. Or dim sum. I remember him saying that he really liked the dim sum place at the OCBC Building we went to once.

I made Ah Gong cry once. Because I messed up my life and made him worry. Even everyone tried hiding it from him; he still knew that something was wrong with me. He said I didn’t laugh as much as I used too. And somehow, he knew that I was spiraling downwards, out-of-control. And the fact that he couldn’t go anything to help me, scared him, and he cried in front of me. That was the first time I’ve ever seen my Ah Gong cry. I’m sorry I was the reason why. I promise I’ll try my best not to screw up again.

Ah Gong always made sure I knew that he’d be there for me. Be it feeding me chocolates and ice cream whenever I looked upset or stressed out, or asking the maid to cook my favourite soup if he knew I was going over. Sometimes, he’d smuggle money to me and ask me to spend it wisely. Above all, he’d always tell me that everything was going to be alright because Ah gong is here to help.

My Ah Gong is a stubborn, silent old man, set in his ways. He hates depending on others and most of the time he seems quite taciturn. But he actually teases me a lot and makes fun of me. One time, it was drizzling and he stood in the shelter talking to me, while I got rained on, just to laugh at me. Other times, he’d tell me he was going to buy me lunch, but I would be paying. And we’d laugh about all these times that they have become our own private jokes.

Thank you, Ah Gong, for never giving up on me and for loving me as stubborn as I am.

Monday, April 29, 2013

In a cafe with Debussy


We sat at the cafe, by the river, the sea breeze making a mess of our hair. I lit my cigarette and you ordered our drinks. The pianist was having his break, so they played a mix of ballads by different singers. I heard Taylor Swift's Begin Again floating around. The lull of conversation and clinking of wine glasses surrounded us, as we sat there in silence, both unsure of what to say.

I looked up and caught your eye, and you gave that awkward half-smile that only you could do. The waiter brought our drinks, setting them down, and we fell back into the awkward yet comfortable silence (if that made any sense at all). I opened my mouth, wanting to say something, anything, that could break the silence. You looked at me and my words disappeared.

There was a scraping of chairs and the pianist sat down at the grand piano. The music stopped, and he began playing. There was a sudden silence and he began playing Debussy's Clair de Lune. We looked at each other and gave each other that knowing smile.

And suddenly, it all just clicked. I had finally found my way home. And it was with you.



Picture by: Royston Toh

Friday, June 8, 2012

Be Alright


She stares out into the evening sky, 
Stars reflecting in her eyes. 
She sighed, 
As if the whole weight of the world was on her shoulders. 

 You look at her, 
An eyebrow raised, 
Questioning; wondering, 
What is running through her mind at the moment. 

 She turns and catches you staring. 
Smiling sadly, she shakes her head, 
Telling you not to worry, 
Telling you not to care. 

 You prod her, 
Wanting to know, 
Demanding to comprehend. 
They said, curiosity killed the cat. 

 She grinned. 
“It’s nothing,” she says, in that world weary tone. 
“I was just thinking about some promises I’d made to myself. 
The promises I made and broke.” 

 You don’t say anything. 
Waiting patiently for her to continue. 
Giving her your complete attention. 
Just like a friend should. 

 “Cause, if anything I’ve learnt, 
I learnt that you’ll always break that one promise to yourself. 
The one where you swore never to be hurt again. 
The one where you vowed never to be so foolish once more.” 

 “Each time I found myself cry over someone worthless, 
I’d tell myself that 
This would be the last time I would ever do so; 
I won’t ever be hurt again.” 

 “Each time I’m proven wrong. 
Each time, I find myself, 
Crying on your shoulders once more, 
Like a sense of déjà vu.” 

“But slowly I realized 
Love’s like that. 
It’ll break you down into a million pieces. 
So much so, that it’ll feel like you won’t ever get up once more.” 

 “And once I understood that fact, 
I learnt that, 
Love heals. 
And it makes you strong again.” 

 “It is not time that will heal all. 
It’s love. 
Always has been and always will be. 
It’s fear that keeps holding you back.” 

 “So this time, I’m making a different promise to myself,”
 She said, with tears rolling down her cheeks. 
“This time, I’m promising that the next time, 
I find myself crying on your shoulders, I’m doing things differently.” 

 “Once love heals me, 
I’m going to fall even harder, love even more 
And I won’t let fear make me turn my back on love. 
I won’t run away again.” 

 You look at her and smile. 
You’re not worried about her. 
You’re not afraid if she’d come running back again to cry. 
Because you know she’s going to be alright.



Picture by: Royston Toh

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Love


It had always been just mummy and I. Daddy had long left mummy for another woman. I did not really understood until I grew older. Mummy shouldered everything on. Single-handedly, she raised me while she struggled to make ends meet. Bills and school fees were all paid by mummy. Daddy had refused to pay for child support and mummy did not want to fight for it. When I asked her why, she said, “It would have been to hard.” For whom, I did not know.

I remembered that day well. It was my 12th birthday, the eighth one without daddy. Mummy and I had planned to go to the zoo. We always planned to go to the zoo on my birthdays. I had wanted to be a zoologist when I grew up, so every year on my birthday, mummy would take me to the zoo to visit the animals. I was never bored, no matter how many times mummy took me there.

It was a day like any other. The sun had been shinning brightly, till the moment when we begin to leave the house. A low rumble of thunder made us stare stunned, at the sky. Surely enough, dark clouds gathered and in the distance lightning flashed. “No!” I wailed, “No! Not today!”

 “I’m sorry honey, looks like we have to change our plans,” my mother said gently. I shook my head, tears forming in my eyes. I had looked forward to today all week! How could the gods do this to me? I thought furiously. My mother couldn’t dissuade me. Her shoulders slumped. She was a proficient driver, but she hated driving in the rain. Whenever it rained, she would take the bus to work instead. She said that she did not trust the slippery roads. Without another word, she smiled at me and told me to put on my shoes. She should have been firmer that day.

As soon as we reached the highway, it started pouring cats and dogs. Mummy gripped the steering wheel tightly as she slowly navigated through the traffic. There was a jam, and cars were barely moving. I could barely see through the windshield as the rain poured down on us. The traffic watch on the radio warned of slow moving traffic and said to drive carefully as many accidents had already occurred. I was too excited to care. “Hurry, mummy!” I wriggled in my sit, unable to keep still.

 “Hush, sweetheart, mummy needs to concentrate,” she murmured to me. The words were barely out of her mouth, when we heard a squeal of wheels. Everything happened so quickly. I could barely register what was going on when I heard a loud bang and felt myself being thrown to the side. Everything went black then.

I roused to the wail of sirens and something bright shinning straight into my eyes. Someone was screaming my name. It hurt everywhere. “CAN YOU HEAR ME?” a loud booming voice shot straight into my ear.

 “Mummy?” I mumbled, my throat dry and my voice barely audible. My mouth ached on forming the words. “This one’s fine! Take her!” I felt myself being lifted and collapsed into the welcoming darkness again.

I was conscious. Yet, I did not want to wake up. I heard voices surrounding me, whispered words, carefully spoken. They thought I was still asleep. The voices said I was a “poor thing” and that my mother had died protecting me. It did not make sense. Mummy was still here, was she? This was a dream right? My eyes flew open. “Mummy,” my voice croaked. The owners of the voices jumped. It was two nurses. One of them went running for the doctor.

After I woke, I learnt what had happened. My mother did not break any law. She was driving carefully. The other driver, however, was speeding. He had been late for a meeting. With the heavy rain, and slippery roads, he had seen us too late and went crashing into us. My mother had seen him coming in time and released her safety belt. She had used her body as a shield to protect me. She gave up her life for mine.

There were many things to do afterwards. Daddy did not want me. Why would he? He never cared for me then, why would he start now? He left me in the hands of mummy’s lawyer, who was very kind. He helped me to find a children’s home to stay in, and settled all the payments and fees. He even made daddy pay up years worth of child support fees. He told me that this was to pay for my education, while mummy’s money would be used to pay for my livelihood. I did not have to worry. He never took a cent for everything he did either. The driver, who had crashed into us, visits me every now and then after his jail term. He is truly sorry for what he had done and tries to make up for his mistakes. Now, every year, instead of mummy, he takes me to the zoo instead.

Mummy’s love for me was passed on to many people. Especially the lawyer who took nothing in return for his help and the driver who is trying to make up for his mistakes. Mummy’s love has also passed on to me. Although some days I wished I had not been so stubborn to insist on going out that day, I still try my best to live on. I still want to be a zoologist when I grow up. However, I also want to be someone who would make my mummy proud.

Friday, January 13, 2012

Hurt, Like Never Before

-->
I saw the look on your face
You were so happy
I was laughing away
And i couldn't careless

I squealed
"I don't want you!"

"Then who,"
You asked, with a smile so trusting
Stuck on your face,
"Do you want?"

I smirked
And said the name you never thought you'd hear
That name
Which you once thought was better than yours

Your face fell
Like your world had just crashed
And I, finally knew,
How frightening it is
To hurt the person you love the most

But, before I could do anything,
You pushed me away
And said a single word
That made my world crash
"Fine."

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Walking

I used to glare
At people who said
"People who commit suicide are cowards"
I used to hate them very much

Because you see
I was once
One of those 'cowards'
And sometimes still am

I could never understand
How can someone
Stare at Death in his face
And still be a 'coward'

I’ve seen so many others
Cowering under him
So for us 'cowards'
How are we considered 'cowards'?

Until someone told me
"Dying is easy. Anyone could do it.
Living is a challenge. Only some complete it."
But I hated that person too

But those words
Kept ringing in my head
Echoing, going round
Refusing to stop

And I begin to notice
How death was really
The easy way out
It took away everything

And I begin to realize
How difficult living is
How battle-worn and scarred
I was becoming each day

And I finally understood
Why only some are
Able to complete
This trial 'living'

But I still
Do hate those who call
Suicides 'cowards'
Because not everyone can look in Death's face

I prefer another term
'Lost hope'
Because that's what they (and sometimes I)
Truly are

Be someone's candlelight, will you?

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Three Hundred and Sixty-Five Letters


I remember writing you a hundred love letters after you went away. They asked why you had to go and if you missed me like I missed you. Each one told you how much I missed your scent and your laughter ringing around the house. Each letter asked if you still remembered our dreams together.

I remember writing you a hundred hate letters after you went away. They cursed you for putting me through such pain. They hoped you would suffer a fate worse than mine. They wished you would realize your mistake and come running back to me so that I could turn you down. Each one soaked with tears.

I remember writing you a hundred letters after you went away. They asked you how have you been and where are you now. They told you of my life in the aftermath of a relationship. They told you of my new life without you. Each one filled with regret and a small hope of what-could-be’s.

I wrote you a total of three hundred letters after you went away. Three hundred letters that I never sent. Three hundred letters that I burnt when December came. Then I wrote another sixty-five letters. To myself. Telling myself that it was time to move on. And when the last letter was written, I begin to walk again.

Picture By : Royston Toh

Sunday, June 26, 2011

Magical Musical


We watched the beams lit up the night sky
And for a moment
We forgot our troubles
And lived in that one moment

It was magical
With the instrumental music
Playing in the background
And the sea breeze ruffling our hair

It felt like
Everything was fine
But the show ended
And we came back to reality

Monday, May 16, 2011

Love Him, Love Him Not


"Let me tell you something, sweetie,"
She whispers quietly into the night
Barely looking at you in your eyes
"I’m not shy. In fact I’m just the opposite,"
She smiles that secret smile of hers and says
"I’m scared, actually."

"I’m scared of you,
I’m scared of us
I’m scared that we're not the same
I’m afraid of what-could-bes"

"I look ahead and I am daunted by the possibilities
I’m worried of our future, if we even have one together
I’m frightened that you don't feel the same way about me
I’m terrified what will happen after that"

"Baby, can you understand?
I don’t want to lose this moment
It’s so special, absolutely magical
It’d hurt so bad if this disappears"

"Darling, take this chance
And believe me for once
I don’t want to lose you
But neither can I have you"

"So sweetheart, let's just hold this moment for now
Just you and me and nothing else
The discrimination falls away
In this mystical world of ours"

Picture By : Royston Toh

Sunday, October 31, 2010

Something Old, Something New

i would very much like
to be proposed with
a lily-cut diamond
thus, fulfilling "something old"

i don't wish to
have a dinner in a stuff old restaurant
where we scream "ganbei" at the top of our lungs
completing the statement with "something new"

and i take you, to be mine,
in good times, and in bad,
in sickness, and health,
for as long as i shall live

and i believe it will end as so.

Picture By : Royston Toh

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Mind-Fucking

When do you know it's time to stop
Where exactly should you say enough
Time keeps going - it doesn't stop for you to make a decision
Yes or no makes a world of difference

I feel like curling up under the covers
Hiding away from the world
Ignoring everything
And everything ignoring me

But that is just not possible is it?

I’m having a migraine
Just thinking about us
Funny how all the good things gets wiped out
Just cause of one bad thing

But
How do you define a bad thing in the first place?
Especially if the said deed is within those obscure grey places?

Right now
I’d give anything to see into the future
Then maybe I’d know what to do
Or maybe not

Apt title don't you think?
If you can understand what I’m rambling about.