"Pass me the hammer! Hey! I say, pass me THAT hammer!"
Rajoo awoke from his day-dream with a start! Irritated and yawning widely, he bent down slowly, picked up the hammer at his feet, shuffled over to Siva, who was working at the other part of the house, and handed him the hammer. Dragging his feet, Rajoo turned back to continue the work where he had left off, before he lost himself in his day-dream.
He was about to lift his hammer to drive in a nail when he got distracted by an ant crawling up his shirt. He watched it make its way slowly from the bottom-last to the top-most button of his shirt. Then, he reached out his hand and squeezed it dead between his thumb and finger. He held his thumb and finger slightly apart to check if the ant was dead. He watched its mutilated lifeless body just long enough to be satisfied that it was not moving. Ha! The foolish creature thought it was going to make it! Feeling pleased with himself, Rajoo wiped the dead ant onto his pants and took up his hammer again.
"Knock! Knock! Knock!" The monotonous knocking sounded like a lullaby to Rajoo. He looked around at the other guys busy at work. With these guys working so hard, there was no fear the house could not be finished on time. His boss would have no excuse delaying payment for his hard labor then. With that happy thought, Rajoo decided it was time for an 'energy-booster’.
He walked behind one of the pillars and lit a cigarette. Wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, he felt proud of himself. He was certainly one who knew hard labor. After the puff, he felt rejuvenated. He definitely deserved that little break. This was hard work. He walked back to his spot and picked up his hammer and a nail. He could feel the heat of the sun on his back.
“Knock! Knock! Knock!” The other guys were still hard at work. When Rajoo caught sight of the big heap of nails on the floor, what little amount of energy he had gained from the smoke vanished. Then a thought hit him! Why not spread the nails further apart when he hammered them in, so that he would have less hammering to do? Cheered up, Rajoo took up his hammer again. Before his hammer reached the nail, his eyes caught sight of a trail of ants making its way along one of the ledges. His eyes followed the ants.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Monday, February 12, 2007
I Survived! (Part 2)
“What? They tried to get rid of me?” I stared at my big brother in disbelief!
“What…how….do you mean?” I managed to stammer, as I felt my insides crumbling.
“Yes, they tried to get rid of you,” repeated my big brother, with an evil smile hovering at the corners of his lips, “they didn’t want you!”
I felt faint. A thousand thoughts crowded my head. No, big brother must be kidding, he was just trying to hurt me, I told myself. Calm down now. I took a deep breath and sat down on a chair. I put my hands under my sweating thighs to stop them from shaking. Yes, I was almost sure he was pulling my leg. He was just jealous I was mom and dad’s favorite. He was trying to bully me, as he always did, when my parents were not around. I said mom and dad loved me most because I was the youngest, and he could not swallow the truth.
“You’re lying!” I found my voice as my confidence returned.
“If you don’t believe, ask big sister!” my brother answered with a sneer, as he pointed one evil finger at my sister.
My sister, who was listening to our conversation all the while with a worried expression on her face, looked at my big brother reproachfully.
“Why did you have to do that?” she asked.
“Ha! Ha! Coz’ it’s fun!” My big brother turned to look at me, as if making sure my eyes were welling up with tears, before he turned and walked out of the room – whistling.
“Is it true? Mom and dad didn’t want me?” I got up and went towards my sister, tugging at one of her hands. She never lied to me. She wasn’t evil, like big brother was.
“Hmm…it…it wasn’t like what big brother said. Mom and dad couldn’t afford to have another kid and…”
Big, hot tears gushed from my eyes. It was true! Mom and dad did not want me. I did not wait for my sister to finish her sentence. I rushed from the room and locked myself in the bathroom. I pulled every towel from the racks and threw them on the floor. I could feel anger rising from my feet right up to my chest. It got stuck there, pressing upon my heart. How could I have mistaken that my parents loved me? They did not love me! They did not want me. They wanted big brother (nasty as he was), big sister, second brother, and second sister, but they did not want me! I stamped my feet on the towels strewn upon the floor.
“Hypocrites! Hypocrites! Stinking hypocrites!” I screamed at the top of my voice, each scream accompanied by a stamp of my feet.
I could hear big sister hollering at me outside the bathroom door. Of course she could play the angel, I thought to myself. She was a ‘wanted’ child! Fresh, hot tears streamed down my cheeks. So evil! My parents were evil beings! I stared at my crumpled-up, pitiful face in the mirror as a thought crossed my mind. I would kill myself! I would kill myself so that my parents’ wish could be fulfilled. Yes, I wanted them to feel guilty for the rest of their lives! The murderers!
“Moi!” my mom’s voice penetrated the bathroom door, and also my thoughts.
“You evil murderer! You don’t want me!” I screamed hysterically through the door.
“Go away! You murderer! I’ll kill myself for you and dad. Then you, dad, big brother, big sister, second brother and second sister can live happily ever after!” I watched my face contort into ugly expressions, as I yelled my lungs out.
“Come out! NOW!” my mom smacked on the bathroom door and commanded. I stopped screaming. Somehow, my mom’s stern voice could still chill the ten-year-old me into obedience, angry and insane as I was then. I unlocked the bathroom door, rushed past my mom without looking at her, and walked into the kitchen. My mom dragged her tired body after me, and sat down beside me. I refused to look at her.
I chose to focus my eyes on my mom’s hands instead. They were still wearing the gloves she wore to the lumber factory everyday. The gloves were supposed to protect her hands from the splinters that came off the pieces of wood she had to carry and stack. Sharp splinters were sticking all over the gloves.
“We had no money…no jobs. We didn’t want you to suffer….” my mom’s voice went on gently - explaining.
I continued staring at those splinters. They grew bigger and bigger till they filled my whole vision. My mom’s voice became a buzzing in the background as my thoughts wandered…
I saw my mom walking in the door. She just came home from work. She smelled like wood. She pulled her gloves off and there they were! The stubborn splinters that managed to escape through the knitted gloves and pierce into my mom’s skin. She just plucked the splinters out one by one, not paying attention to the tiny dots of dried blood left on her skin, where the splinters had pierced. She went on to wash out the container in which she used to bring lunch to work. Rice soaked in hot water with a few drops of soy sauce stirred in, or rice mixed with a few drops of cooking oil, made up my mom’s lunch menu.
Then, my mom appeared at the kitchen table, cutting an apple into five pieces. She watched and smiled as my siblings and I devoured our own piece without a second thought. When we looked at her for more, she gave us an apologetic look. “Next week,” she said. I always wondered why my mom’s tummy made so much noise. I did not know those were the voices of hunger, which were left unanswered, while ours got answered.
My mom appeared again, this time begging my dad’s sister to lend her fifty dollars. Big brother and big sister needed school supplies.
She was sitting by the lamp now, in her patched and re-patched clothes, sewing new clothes for me. My siblings and I always had new clothes for Chinese New Year. Not my mom, nor my dad.
Suddenly, my dad appeared. He was coming home in the dead of night, hands blackened with oil from the machinery he was operating the whole day, eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep because he had taken on more shifts than the ordinary worker.
My mom’s voice became louder, and interrupted the images in my mind. “We do love you! It was wrong of us to think of not wanting you, but we didn’t know better...”
I realized I was still staring at the splinters sticking to my mom’s gloves. They were regular-sized splinters again, instead of dark blobs of brown. Tears welled up in my eyes. How did I dare judge my parents? I reached out and pulled the gloves off my mom’s hands. There they were - the splinters sticking from their little dotted wells of dried blood. I felt the splinters pierce my heart. My tears fell onto my mom’s hands.
“Moi, do you understand?” my mom was asking.
I wanted to stay angry and dwell on the fact that my parents did not want me. I could not. I felt ashamed for doubting their love for me. They might not have wanted me to join my siblings in a life of poverty. However, I stubbornly survived and came into their lives. My parents kept nothing from me. They did not treat me like a burden. Whatever they could scrape together, my siblings and I shared equally. Who was I to judge them – victims of an ignorant era? Having a load of kids and living in poverty was the norm during that time. I nodded my head, too choked with emotions to say anything.
“Good,” my mom patted my head, picked out the splinters from her hands, put on her apron and started to prepare dinner.
“What…how….do you mean?” I managed to stammer, as I felt my insides crumbling.
“Yes, they tried to get rid of you,” repeated my big brother, with an evil smile hovering at the corners of his lips, “they didn’t want you!”
I felt faint. A thousand thoughts crowded my head. No, big brother must be kidding, he was just trying to hurt me, I told myself. Calm down now. I took a deep breath and sat down on a chair. I put my hands under my sweating thighs to stop them from shaking. Yes, I was almost sure he was pulling my leg. He was just jealous I was mom and dad’s favorite. He was trying to bully me, as he always did, when my parents were not around. I said mom and dad loved me most because I was the youngest, and he could not swallow the truth.
“You’re lying!” I found my voice as my confidence returned.
“If you don’t believe, ask big sister!” my brother answered with a sneer, as he pointed one evil finger at my sister.
My sister, who was listening to our conversation all the while with a worried expression on her face, looked at my big brother reproachfully.
“Why did you have to do that?” she asked.
“Ha! Ha! Coz’ it’s fun!” My big brother turned to look at me, as if making sure my eyes were welling up with tears, before he turned and walked out of the room – whistling.
“Is it true? Mom and dad didn’t want me?” I got up and went towards my sister, tugging at one of her hands. She never lied to me. She wasn’t evil, like big brother was.
“Hmm…it…it wasn’t like what big brother said. Mom and dad couldn’t afford to have another kid and…”
Big, hot tears gushed from my eyes. It was true! Mom and dad did not want me. I did not wait for my sister to finish her sentence. I rushed from the room and locked myself in the bathroom. I pulled every towel from the racks and threw them on the floor. I could feel anger rising from my feet right up to my chest. It got stuck there, pressing upon my heart. How could I have mistaken that my parents loved me? They did not love me! They did not want me. They wanted big brother (nasty as he was), big sister, second brother, and second sister, but they did not want me! I stamped my feet on the towels strewn upon the floor.
“Hypocrites! Hypocrites! Stinking hypocrites!” I screamed at the top of my voice, each scream accompanied by a stamp of my feet.
I could hear big sister hollering at me outside the bathroom door. Of course she could play the angel, I thought to myself. She was a ‘wanted’ child! Fresh, hot tears streamed down my cheeks. So evil! My parents were evil beings! I stared at my crumpled-up, pitiful face in the mirror as a thought crossed my mind. I would kill myself! I would kill myself so that my parents’ wish could be fulfilled. Yes, I wanted them to feel guilty for the rest of their lives! The murderers!
“Moi!” my mom’s voice penetrated the bathroom door, and also my thoughts.
“You evil murderer! You don’t want me!” I screamed hysterically through the door.
“Go away! You murderer! I’ll kill myself for you and dad. Then you, dad, big brother, big sister, second brother and second sister can live happily ever after!” I watched my face contort into ugly expressions, as I yelled my lungs out.
“Come out! NOW!” my mom smacked on the bathroom door and commanded. I stopped screaming. Somehow, my mom’s stern voice could still chill the ten-year-old me into obedience, angry and insane as I was then. I unlocked the bathroom door, rushed past my mom without looking at her, and walked into the kitchen. My mom dragged her tired body after me, and sat down beside me. I refused to look at her.
I chose to focus my eyes on my mom’s hands instead. They were still wearing the gloves she wore to the lumber factory everyday. The gloves were supposed to protect her hands from the splinters that came off the pieces of wood she had to carry and stack. Sharp splinters were sticking all over the gloves.
“We had no money…no jobs. We didn’t want you to suffer….” my mom’s voice went on gently - explaining.
I continued staring at those splinters. They grew bigger and bigger till they filled my whole vision. My mom’s voice became a buzzing in the background as my thoughts wandered…
I saw my mom walking in the door. She just came home from work. She smelled like wood. She pulled her gloves off and there they were! The stubborn splinters that managed to escape through the knitted gloves and pierce into my mom’s skin. She just plucked the splinters out one by one, not paying attention to the tiny dots of dried blood left on her skin, where the splinters had pierced. She went on to wash out the container in which she used to bring lunch to work. Rice soaked in hot water with a few drops of soy sauce stirred in, or rice mixed with a few drops of cooking oil, made up my mom’s lunch menu.
Then, my mom appeared at the kitchen table, cutting an apple into five pieces. She watched and smiled as my siblings and I devoured our own piece without a second thought. When we looked at her for more, she gave us an apologetic look. “Next week,” she said. I always wondered why my mom’s tummy made so much noise. I did not know those were the voices of hunger, which were left unanswered, while ours got answered.
My mom appeared again, this time begging my dad’s sister to lend her fifty dollars. Big brother and big sister needed school supplies.
She was sitting by the lamp now, in her patched and re-patched clothes, sewing new clothes for me. My siblings and I always had new clothes for Chinese New Year. Not my mom, nor my dad.
Suddenly, my dad appeared. He was coming home in the dead of night, hands blackened with oil from the machinery he was operating the whole day, eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep because he had taken on more shifts than the ordinary worker.
My mom’s voice became louder, and interrupted the images in my mind. “We do love you! It was wrong of us to think of not wanting you, but we didn’t know better...”
I realized I was still staring at the splinters sticking to my mom’s gloves. They were regular-sized splinters again, instead of dark blobs of brown. Tears welled up in my eyes. How did I dare judge my parents? I reached out and pulled the gloves off my mom’s hands. There they were - the splinters sticking from their little dotted wells of dried blood. I felt the splinters pierce my heart. My tears fell onto my mom’s hands.
“Moi, do you understand?” my mom was asking.
I wanted to stay angry and dwell on the fact that my parents did not want me. I could not. I felt ashamed for doubting their love for me. They might not have wanted me to join my siblings in a life of poverty. However, I stubbornly survived and came into their lives. My parents kept nothing from me. They did not treat me like a burden. Whatever they could scrape together, my siblings and I shared equally. Who was I to judge them – victims of an ignorant era? Having a load of kids and living in poverty was the norm during that time. I nodded my head, too choked with emotions to say anything.
“Good,” my mom patted my head, picked out the splinters from her hands, put on her apron and started to prepare dinner.
Tuesday, February 6, 2007
I survived! (Part 1)
Parents are funny beings. They are there from the time
you are born. They get to choose to have you. You don't
get to choose them.
My parents didn't want to have me.
"Too poor," they said. My mother took a potion the
doctor prescribed her which was supposed to do the work
of getting rid of me. Apparently, she was tricked. The
doctor thought I was too old to be aborted. My mother
threw up after taking the potion. I survived! I was
added to my parents' existing brood of four.
I was hungry. My tummy hurt. I opened my mouth and
yelled. Where were my parents? Weren't they supposed to
feed me? I know I said they didn't want me, but I wasn't
supposed to know that till I was older! A hand came over
my mouth, "Shh....". What was that supposed to mean?
Then I heard loud banging from the room next door. Our
neighbor obviously didn't like my yelling. My dad
shouted something in answer to the banging. I licked the
hand covering my mouth. Salty, but it wasn't what I
wanted. Milk! I wanted milk!
Something was stuck into my mouth eventually. I didn't
care what, but sucked on it ravenously. Ah! Milk at
last. My parents talked in hushed tones as I ate
contentedly. I caught words here and there, "...borrow
money from auntie Gu...a job opening at the lumber
factory.....". Of course, I didn't understand a word of
what was spoken then.
you are born. They get to choose to have you. You don't
get to choose them.
My parents didn't want to have me.
"Too poor," they said. My mother took a potion the
doctor prescribed her which was supposed to do the work
of getting rid of me. Apparently, she was tricked. The
doctor thought I was too old to be aborted. My mother
threw up after taking the potion. I survived! I was
added to my parents' existing brood of four.
I was hungry. My tummy hurt. I opened my mouth and
yelled. Where were my parents? Weren't they supposed to
feed me? I know I said they didn't want me, but I wasn't
supposed to know that till I was older! A hand came over
my mouth, "Shh....". What was that supposed to mean?
Then I heard loud banging from the room next door. Our
neighbor obviously didn't like my yelling. My dad
shouted something in answer to the banging. I licked the
hand covering my mouth. Salty, but it wasn't what I
wanted. Milk! I wanted milk!
Something was stuck into my mouth eventually. I didn't
care what, but sucked on it ravenously. Ah! Milk at
last. My parents talked in hushed tones as I ate
contentedly. I caught words here and there, "...borrow
money from auntie Gu...a job opening at the lumber
factory.....". Of course, I didn't understand a word of
what was spoken then.
Sunday, February 4, 2007
Through A Damaged Mind's Eye
Oh no! The war was still going on! Bombs! Bombs rolling everywhere! Ah Tok watched in horror as bombs the size of cannon balls rolled down different lanes at great speed. He put his hands over his ears, lay flat on his tummy, and waited for the earth-shaking explosions to occur. His eyes were glued to the bombs flying down the lanes. He figured he might as well witness the sight of the blasts since he was going to die anyway.There was a loud “bang” as one bomb hit a few bottles lying in its path. However, strangely, the bomb did not explode into flames. The white bottles were all knocked down, but they were not broken.
Ah Tok was startled by loud cheering coming from a group of people who was pointing to a screen like that of a radarscope. There were little X’s all over the screen. These must be soldiers checking the location of their targets. Ah Tok looked around bewildered. These soldiers were all over the place, throwing bombs down different lanes. There were sounds of explosions all over. Ah Tok’s eyes darted from lane to lane as he kept his hands over his ears. This must be the end of the world!
When Ah Tok found himself still alive and in one piece, as bomb after bomb was being thrown down the lanes, he began to notice that all the targets of the bombs were just white bottles. These soldiers must be fighting a different kind of war. When the targets were all knocked down, the soldiers seemed to be very pleased and got slapped on the backs by their comrades. Ah Tok also observed that supplies of the bombs were arranged neatly on racks all over the place. The bombs seemed to come in different colors too.
Ah Tok had never seen soldiers handling bombs like the way these soldiers were doing. He remembered seeing bombs dropped from the sky and devastating a few villages at one time. These soldiers however, got into a funny stance when they rolled their bombs down the lanes. They did not even care to take cover. Ah Tok noticed another strange thing. The targets could never be destroyed. Those that were knocked down were replaced by new ones that looked exactly like them.
This must be some crazy new warfare. Whatever it was, Ah Tok did not want to be part of it. His whole village went up in flames when bombs like those the soldiers were rolling down the lanes dropped from the sky. His family perished with the villages that were destroyed that fateful day. He was fighting deep in the woods then and escaped death. No, no more bombs! Ah Tok rushed out of the bowling alley, with his hands over his ears and tears flowing down his cheeks.
Ah Tok was startled by loud cheering coming from a group of people who was pointing to a screen like that of a radarscope. There were little X’s all over the screen. These must be soldiers checking the location of their targets. Ah Tok looked around bewildered. These soldiers were all over the place, throwing bombs down different lanes. There were sounds of explosions all over. Ah Tok’s eyes darted from lane to lane as he kept his hands over his ears. This must be the end of the world!
When Ah Tok found himself still alive and in one piece, as bomb after bomb was being thrown down the lanes, he began to notice that all the targets of the bombs were just white bottles. These soldiers must be fighting a different kind of war. When the targets were all knocked down, the soldiers seemed to be very pleased and got slapped on the backs by their comrades. Ah Tok also observed that supplies of the bombs were arranged neatly on racks all over the place. The bombs seemed to come in different colors too.
Ah Tok had never seen soldiers handling bombs like the way these soldiers were doing. He remembered seeing bombs dropped from the sky and devastating a few villages at one time. These soldiers however, got into a funny stance when they rolled their bombs down the lanes. They did not even care to take cover. Ah Tok noticed another strange thing. The targets could never be destroyed. Those that were knocked down were replaced by new ones that looked exactly like them.
This must be some crazy new warfare. Whatever it was, Ah Tok did not want to be part of it. His whole village went up in flames when bombs like those the soldiers were rolling down the lanes dropped from the sky. His family perished with the villages that were destroyed that fateful day. He was fighting deep in the woods then and escaped death. No, no more bombs! Ah Tok rushed out of the bowling alley, with his hands over his ears and tears flowing down his cheeks.
Saturday, February 3, 2007
Memories...
Bao-er lifted her eyes as she was introduced to the new missionary. She had heard a lot about her. She did not understand why the congregation needed a young lady missionary. What could she do? Her eyes asked the question as she greeted Shooby - the new missionary.
Was there a mistake? Shooby was supposed to be a girl of twenty. This woman shaking Bao-er's hand had a head of shoulder-length-almost-all-white hair! Bao-er uttered her greetings shyly, quickly found a seat, and pretended to be occupied. She spoke English, but felt uncomfortable around "angmohs" (red-hair = Caucasians). Shooby took a seat close to Bao-er, and started fanning herself, not used to the oppressive equatorial heat. Bao-er felt threatened by the proximity of Shooby. A brilliant idea came to her mind. "Hey!" Bao-er addressed Shooby, "Why don't you move nearer to the fan up front?" When it came to putting a distance between Shooby and herself, Bao-er could summon enough courage to speak to Shooby. Shooby turned and said, "I'm O.K.!"
At that moment, Bao-er saw in Shooby, a girl as shy, and as uncomfortable as herself. Bao-er chided herself for thinking only of her own comfort.
Was there a mistake? Shooby was supposed to be a girl of twenty. This woman shaking Bao-er's hand had a head of shoulder-length-almost-all-white hair! Bao-er uttered her greetings shyly, quickly found a seat, and pretended to be occupied. She spoke English, but felt uncomfortable around "angmohs" (red-hair = Caucasians). Shooby took a seat close to Bao-er, and started fanning herself, not used to the oppressive equatorial heat. Bao-er felt threatened by the proximity of Shooby. A brilliant idea came to her mind. "Hey!" Bao-er addressed Shooby, "Why don't you move nearer to the fan up front?" When it came to putting a distance between Shooby and herself, Bao-er could summon enough courage to speak to Shooby. Shooby turned and said, "I'm O.K.!"
At that moment, Bao-er saw in Shooby, a girl as shy, and as uncomfortable as herself. Bao-er chided herself for thinking only of her own comfort.
Thursday, February 1, 2007
Stray thoughts about Christmas
The escalator brought her out of the train station Sunlignt greeted her, together with the sound of Christmas music. She bore the summer heat for just a few seconds, then ducked into a mall, to enjoy artificial coolness provided by the mall's air-conditioning unit. Ah! She could almost make herself believe it was snowing outside. The Christmas decorations in the mall transported her into a winter wonderland. Wait! Her fellow shoppers brought her daydream to an abrupt halt. They were dressed in tank-tops and shorts! Oh well! There was no law against celebrating Christmas in places without winters. Her Christmas mood was restored.
She did not know shopping for Christmas presents could be so fun, till a few years ago. She remembered trying to "celebrate" Christmas when she was a little girl. She could only dream about it. Her Chinese parents thought Christmas was just for Americans and Europeans. She would have thought so too, if she were not introduced to books - and television! She loved the cozy and warm feeling of Christmas. Of course, she liked the noisy, and loud atmosphere of the Lunar New Year celebrations too! Conflict? Nah! She felt lucky and rich!
She ducked into one of the stores to look for presents for her Chinese-speaking American friend, and globe-trotting sister - who happened to be her Christmas celebrating buddies! Of course, they embraced the Lunar New Year celebrations too! Merry Christmas, and Gong Xi Gong Xi!
She did not know shopping for Christmas presents could be so fun, till a few years ago. She remembered trying to "celebrate" Christmas when she was a little girl. She could only dream about it. Her Chinese parents thought Christmas was just for Americans and Europeans. She would have thought so too, if she were not introduced to books - and television! She loved the cozy and warm feeling of Christmas. Of course, she liked the noisy, and loud atmosphere of the Lunar New Year celebrations too! Conflict? Nah! She felt lucky and rich!
She ducked into one of the stores to look for presents for her Chinese-speaking American friend, and globe-trotting sister - who happened to be her Christmas celebrating buddies! Of course, they embraced the Lunar New Year celebrations too! Merry Christmas, and Gong Xi Gong Xi!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)