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Malaysian Alien


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Monday, March 26, 2007

I am comtemplating if I should close this blog down. The option feels more and more appealing with each passing day.


Thursday, March 22, 2007

On the ferry to Koh Phi Phi, I was buzzed. It was Alex and he began his short message with ‘my hands are shaking as I write this…’. He asked me to read an email he wrote me. I was overwhelmed with so much sadness that I could not hold the tears that were welling up along my eyes.

‘This is what sunglasses are for,’ I said to myself as I coolly took out my Gucci shades out of its box and nestled it gently on my nose. I wondered if Jackie Kennedy wore her sunglasses for the same reason. Did her glasses hide tears too?

The ferry was packed with people. Backpackers and locals sat next to each other. The sun worshippers walked up a flight of flimsy stairs, to the upper deck, only to walk back into the cool of the lower floors. The sun’s rays were beating everyone’s backs on the Thursday I sat the ferry to Koh Phi Phi.

Thirty minutes before sitting the pair of sunglasses on my nose, I found myself in the company of two girls. They flew on the same flight on the previous day and by chance, we stumbled on each other again onboard the ferry boat to Koh Phi Phi. We chatted along merrily as I related to them how years ago I spent summers in Stockholm.

I kept my mobile away during this trip, in a separate compartment and every so often, I flipped it open and checked for calls and messages. Good way of avoiding work related matters on the precious trip. I slid my hand into the bag as the girls and I spoke about Mid Summers and skinny dipping with friends.

A message from Alex.

I did not have a mirror but I assumed that my face turned pale when I read the message. What horror to read that his hands were shaking. My hands began to shake too. I felt faint, as if all the air around me was withdrew and I was stuck in a vacuum. That was how my heart felt.



I now sit on my office chair, thinking what happened back then. It has been a week since that message arrived and I am not sure what I did other than slipping on the pair of sunglasses and refusing to open my mailbox until the day after.

The girls and I checked into the hotel and I managed to keep myself busy with other things. Like checking out the seaside and Zeavola, which was a beautiful boutique hotel. Zeavola was this perfect sweet dark chocolate structure sitting prettily between swaying coconut trees and the steadfast rocks. Beautiful yellow umbrellas and sun beds lined the white sandy beach. I am not sure if the place made the people beautiful or if it was the other way around.

I decided to read the email while the two girls prattled on in Swedish the morning after, immediately after the complimentary breakfast. I sat in front of the computer with trembling cold hands and cold feet on a very hot day on an island that swept Nikki away. It was not a very nice start to an island holiday.

‘I have neglected you and now our love has suffered’

That was the subject. Suffering, I thought to myself, then taking a deep breath. Suffering definitely fitted what I felt at that moment. It was a long email, the longest I have received from Alex in a very long time. There were lots of things written, things that I am not free to share with you because they are very private. But I will share what I wished I could tell Alex then and now.


I am sorry that I have hurt you in the past. Yes, I slept with someone else three years ago. Yes, perhaps that killed part of your love for me. I am a murderer and I am guilty of killing whatever passion and love you felt for me.

Do you remember the movie “Lady Killer”? The daughter wrote a secret letter to her mother and demanded that her mother apologized three times for all the hurt caused. And the mother did.

I wished that there was a secret letter and you demanded me for an apology, times three.

I am sorry.

I am sorry.

I am sorry.

And I wished that it would make everything better. But I know that there is no secret letter and that you made no such demands. There is nothing more that I can offer other than a very sincere apology. I do not know how to mend you better.

You are my sun and I have depended on you for love and support. I never imagined that you would not love me. Until now. Now I no longer know what is real because I thought our love was real. What I felt with you was real. What I felt for your was real. I thought that our love was strong, what we share is special and now, after what you wrote, I do not know what to think anymore.

Now all I feel is that everything was a convenience. It was convenient for you to be with me and on my part, I felt safe with you. We are good friends. We always have been. We share so many things in common and we supported each other through a lot of things. I felt so comfortable with you, in my very own skin and you were comfortable enough with me to be just who you are inside.

Perhaps that was the killer. We grew too comfortable. As the years rolled by, we just grew too comfortable. Somewhere along the way, we became very good friends and not so good lovers. You said so. I thought we made good lovers. We were physically close, walking hand in hand all the time and we had physical contact even when we sat down for a movie. I remember stretching my legs on your lap whenever we were sat in a bus or the cinema.

Do you remember our special jiggy dance? Yes, the one we made up when ‘Saturday Night Fever’ reality dance competition was aired on TV. We always did the jiggy dance while we cooked dinner. I stood in the hallway. My index fingers twitched as I tip toed in a little dance while you opened your arms to catch me when I jumped at you after three steps. Is that not passion and happiness?

So fine. I am not Lolita and you are not Brad Pitt. We no longer possess the passion like how young lovers often do. But I never considered what we share as poor. I just figured it out that we were past the initial first love rush and have settled into a comfortable routine…


One week on I am still on a row with Alex. He has made a peace offering but I am not so quick to accept it. This is highly unusual. Some thing has changed this time. I knew that I had changed since coming home after Christmas. Something inside me changed.

I think I grew up.

Or grew old.

I am tired of everything. I feel lonely and depressed. I do not want to be alone anymore. I am not willing to settle for the best, which is so far away. Not anymore anyway. It is no longer the best when you are so far away.

I think I am going crazy. I must be. There is the only logical reason why I would not just let this go. I am afraid. Yes, I am but I am not willing to patch this one up with a little emotional plaster. You might feel better after the cuddle but the issue is not resolved. It is hidden. I know it would not go away. It never did. This issue will crop up some months down the road.

Realizing that I might regret this stubborn need to confront Alex at the moment does not seem to stop me from confronting him. Or refusing to resolve it at the moment. I think I am a little angry at the moment and I am not thinking straight. I have been pushed off the edge or I have pushed myself off my own brink of reality and now I feel as if I do not care whatever happens to me anymore.


The men knew they were trapped the second they ran into the wooden shed. The police were on their backs and there was no backdoor to run out from. The leader, the one with the blind right eye, climbed up some bays of hay and his army of bandits followed.

The whole place was swarmed with police, he thought to himself. There were men in green shorts, machine guns and barking dogs outside. There were many of them. Ten, twenty or even thirty of them.

All was lost.

‘Today is the day we die, soldiers!’ he shouted. He rushed out through the door, his men behind him.

Sprays of bullets filled the dusty summer day.

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Tuesday, March 20, 2007
This Time Will Pass

Spoilt by the views while reading and eating at Tacada, Zeavola.

Perfect day with sun beds and yellow umbrellas.

The strange lady with the hat on the rocks.

Back after a good break in Koh Phi Phi and not in a hurry to write at all. Lots have happened. Things have changed. I cried, laughed, danced and played. I do not know what tomorrow will bring but for the first time in my life, I feel as if I just did a life bungee jump.

For once, I am not going to rush against whatever that is happening around me. I will stretch out my hands and I will drop off the edge of my own reality.

~ Stuck In A Moment, U2

"Stuck In A Moment"

I'm not afraid
Of anything in this world
There's nothing you can throw at me
That I haven't already heard

I'm just trying to find
A decent melody
A song that I can sing
In my own company

I never thought you were a fool
But darling look at you
You gotta stand up straight
Carry your own weight
These tears are going nowhere baby

You've got to get yourself together
You've got stuck in a moment
And now you can't get out of it

Don't say that later will be better
Now you're stuck in a moment
And you can't get out of it


Monday, March 12, 2007
How I Wished

How I wished I could show you what I see from where I am. The view never fails to amaze me. How tiny everything seems from where I stand. I can see families in big cars and tiny motorcycles. I can see people walking and snaking through the busy road. Occasionally there is a splash of colour as a woman walks pass with a floral blouse. But mainly it is a monotonous black and white, trousers, slacks, skirts, blouses and dresses. People are always walking in a hurry. Everything feels blurry.

I wished I could tell you what I really think. Or what I really feel over the last month or so – how busy and tired I feel as I lay in bed every night. How happy I feel whenever I wake up and see the sun shining through the curtains. How breakfasts are especially wonderful with sweet smelling coffee, great friends and fantastic sandwiches. If I have to have sandwiches, it has to be the best bread stuffed with the most delicious ingredients.

PY got into my car this morning. I decided to pick her up from her office when we were out for breakfast. I usually call her at 8 a.m. and today was no different. She sat in the car and looked at my hair. I cut and curled it over the weekend and she had not a good look until 9 a.m. this morning. We mumbled through what we did over the weekend, starting with PY and then I went through my list.

‘You are having a rather fancy time since you found new friends,’ PY remarked.

I ignored what she said. Ignoring is in fact one of the best social tactics I have learnt in recent years. If you do not want to answer a question, you ignore. If you want to avoid the topic, just ignore. Change topic. Switch subject. Talk about the sun, the moon or the stars. Talk about anything but the thing you are trying to avoid talking.

And so it was this morning as we walked towards our breakfast place, that I kept silent and ignored what PY said earlier. On Friday I had nine different Japanese dishes with sake. My favourite was salmon sashimi. You can never beat the Japanese when it comes to fresh raw fish. Saturday night featured a huge portion of grilled lamb over a bed of salad, a bottle of red wine, servings of coffee alternated with brandy, Mai Tai, Long Island Tea and Irish Coffee. For Sunday, I had two MNG blouses and for desert, some delicious casserole and ice cream.

But you know what? I think I enjoyed my company of friends the most. AD’s wife arrived from Romania three weeks ago and it was only last Saturday that we finally met up. Anki was a petite lady, almost fragile with her porcelain complexion set against dark hair. We had fun that night, talking and being just girls.

It was fabulous to have her for the night, to be able to talk and learn more about her. She was fun and happy, very intelligent and quick wit. I guess all writers are. We only parted at 4 a.m. as the taxi took her and AD home. All I longed for is the plainest of things. I want sincerity and companionship.

How I wished that I had more girlfriends on weekends. A group of girls can have the most fun on weekends without any boys stringing along. We slowly lose touch of our girlfriends as we grow up and grow older. We begin to form lifetime relationships with a life partner, start building a home and a family and along the way, we sacrificed the friendships and companionships we shared as young women.

How I wished that I do not feel the way I do at the moment. I feel lost and confused. I do not have any inspiration to write anything despite feeling a lot of mixed emotions at the moment. You would think that this is the prime time to churn out books after books about life and love! But oh no, I am word constipated. Or perhaps whatever I am feeling at the moment is very private and I do not wish to share with anyone. Not even with myself.

I am flying to Phuket on the very last minute. I bought myself a ticket to get the hell out of this place because I feel myself dying here. I hope that the 5 days away from familiarity will help me see things in a new light. I am going to laze around in my bikinis, read Haruki Murukami novels and if I am lucky, I might just find a new friend in a stranger.

Friends are hard to come by these days. Sometimes you cannot even fully trust your closest friends. Does it not sound absolutely sad? I know it is sad.

‘Yeah, you don’t want to go out with me anymore now that you have new friends.’

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Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Do I Love You Enough For Us?


We might kiss when we are alone
When nobody's watching
We might take it home
We might make out when nobody's there
It's not that we're scared
It's just that it's delicate
~ Delicate, Damien Rice.

I have been thinking a lot lately. Seriously. I have been thinking for many days and many nights. Sometimes I feel blue just thinking of everything. I am tired, you know.

I do not know what has changed. I do not think that it has. Whenever I hear your voice, I feel so loved all over again. I feel that I could love you forever. Then when I put down the receiver, I feel that everything is lost. I do not know where I am and I do not know who you are. I try to remember everything but everything seems so far. If I try hard enough, I can see how we loved each other, like a dark blue line at the sea’s horizon.

I think I am lost. Or maybe it is you who is lost. Or perhaps we are both lost. Maybe we were lost and now we have found ourselves. It feels as if we both resurfaced from a lake on a bitter winter's day. We reached out and breathed hard for the first time and we realised that we were not what we dreamt we were. Maybe this is just the realisation that we are not who we were.

Does this mean we have changed? Or maybe we have grown up? I do not know how we ended up this way or maybe how I ended up like how I am right now. But I am standing in this corner of the world and I am alone. And for the first few times in my life, I do not like being alone and I do not want to be alone.

Admittedly for a long time, I loved coming home to Malaysia alone and having everything to myself. I had you to fall back on, if ever I needed your love and support. I worked very hard and put my every waking hour to work. But when the night fell, I put on my pointy toe shoes and danced the nights and weekends away. I had fabulous days with friends and endless nights with close friends. It was the best of two worlds and I loved it.

Notice the past tense? I am not loving it now. I do not know what inside me changed but I am sure that I have. I yearn for something more stable and concrete. I long to wake up and see your face. I want to rush off to work after sharing the bathtub with you. Then I drive to work thinking and smiling. I am smiling because you kissed me three times.

I miss your voice. I want to hear you calling my name during lunch break. I want Friday afternoons to mean secret lunches for just the two of us. Would it not be wonderful to open the door after a tiring day at work and next to my pair of shoes is yours? You would be playing some games on PS2 just a few metres away in the winter living room. I want to hear what you did today and how excited you were on Monday when you met your latest project dateline.

I long for weekends where we walk along the parks or take a slow drive to nowhere, like how we often did in the past. I want simple grocery shopping sessions, where we lazily walk through the aisles and choose what we would have for dinner in the coming week. I want to smell the sweet aroma of Thai curry, bubbling hot in the pan, where two cap full of rice would be sufficient for our delicious evening dinner.

It is no longer thrilling to slip into my highest heels on Friday evenings. I no longer feel flattered or cheerful when some guy sends a drink over or starts a piece of conversation. Not even if he was gorgeous. I do not want to be where the music is loud and you cannot hear your soul speak. Or where the flashes of light are so bright that they blind your eyes. I do not want to stand where alcohol passes so quick that it numbs your senses.

I want to feel the touch of your fingers running against mine. I want to hold your hand when we cross the street. We will brave the traffic together. I want to sit in a restaurant where we can discuss what we are having for dinner. Then I swap my plate for yours because you always chose better. I want to fall asleep listening to you talk about some latest boy’s toys and when I rub my eyes, all I see through the dark is you.

Yes. I loved the jet setting lifestyle I had since 2000. It has been a privilege. That I know. How many people do you know spend half a year in Malaysia and the other half frolicking somewhere enjoying the best that Europe can offer in summer? Not many. These years of here and there will live for a very long time in my memory. I suspect that those years would be the things that I will remember when I can no longer remember anything.

Yet I think it is time to move on. That time has passed and now I have reached a new level. I want my own house, with my own set of cutleries and tableware. I saw this beautiful long wooden table in Ombak and instinctively I wanted to pack it back home. I want to fill my house with beautiful things, of books and paintings. And then I want to fill it up with laughter and love.

Sometimes I wonder if everything is worth what I have paid. A love that is so sweet but so far away. What would I do if I had not found you? I would have been lost. That was how I was when you found me. And I will be lost without you.

So what am I to do? I am a broken doll. Will you come and save me? Will you put me together again? Or do I have to stay forever like this? My heart aches and I do not what to do. I do not want to live like this forever. Do I have to find someone new? Will the person love me as much as you do? Will I regret that I gave up on you? Will you give up on me? Do I stay where I am? Will things change? Will you walk through my door with your shirt and tie? Will we drive to Fraser's on weekends, like we often did? Do you love me enough for the two of us?

Do I love you enough for us?

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Thursday, March 01, 2007
The Lady With 30 Cats

In 2000 a poignant film about life was released. With the short title “Malena”, this spell binding Italian movie recounted the story of a woman, told through the voice of a young boy.

Malena’s world collapsed all around her the very second the town found out that she became a widow. She experienced antagonism because women hated and spat at her out of jealousy. Through her life Malena had lived with men taking advantage of her and lusting after her but it grew worse midway through the movie, when they discovered that her husband was reported dead at war.

It was hell from that moment on. The women in the market refused to sell her any produce and soon only the dirty men were willing to trade food with her.

Eventually Malena’s husband returned home after the war. Her husband was not dead, after all. Malena and her husband were reunited and they returned to their hometown hand in hand. If you watched carefully, you will realise that Malena's husband loved and cherished her. And perhaps he was the only person who truly understood her pain. With her husband around her, the women welcomed Malena once again and men no longer disrespected her.

I have watched this movie countless of times. I shed tears for Malena during what I consider the climax of the movie. There was one scene when women (who once were her friends, neighbours etc) beat her, tore her clothes and cut her hair in the town square. You cannot but feel sheer pain as you hear the injustice and pain Malena felt as she sat and cried while covering her exposed breasts. How terrible it must have been for Malena and how lonely she must have felt through the difficult years.

I understand how it feels to walk in Malena's shoes.

The world is wicked to a woman who is without a man.

All I want is someone to talk to and laugh with. I want a companion so I can share how my day has been and spend time with. I don't need someone 24 hours everyday but I need companionship and comfort a few hours every few days. Is it too much to ask?

I don't need many different men. I need just one man that I can get along and feel comfortable with. I want one man that I can laugh with and see the brighter side of life. I want someone who is there to protect me and save me from everything around me. How difficult is it to be with one man that I can get along and feel happy with?

Try walking in my shoes for a day. Do you know how difficult it is to live when everyone around you knows that there is no man to walk beside you? Women feel insecure when you are around because they feel you are threat. They are angry because their lovers' eyes strayed. Many men think they stand a chance since you are perceived to be weak when there is no man to hold your hand. These men continually hound and stalk you, even when you have firmly rejected them and said “no”.

Why does society feel that I am a social outcast just because I do not have a man around me? Why do people take advantage of women who do not have men around their lives? It is difficult enough to live on my own. Can you help me by being a little more considerate and understanding of my circumstances?

Why can't anyone understand that I am just human? I am human and that I feel lonely. I have stood alone at parties and battled loneliness in the company of many people. I have watched everyone sit in pairs, talking and enjoying themselves while I was seated with the old widows, single women in their 40s and the occasional side table holding pots of hot tea and cutleries.

Most of my friends are all married with husbands and kids at home. And yet, I do not have any children of my own. Consequently I have ample time to do things that I enjoy. There are no hindrances for me to pursue a new hobby, activity or to go out with friends. I am not bound by commitments such as children or mortgages and so I am not bound to the kitchen sink like how many of my friends are. So what am I to do with my spare time if not to go out with friends?

I am young, independent and free. I do not want to stand alone in any pubs or clubs. I do not want to eat alone in a restaurant or have coffee in Starbucks on my own. And why should I be alone in any pubs, clubs, restaurants or coffee houses? I am too young but yet I feel I have lived half my life as a widow. Why can’t anyone understand this simple truth?

I can’t take this sort of stress any longer. My spirit is worn out by constant rumor mongering. I feel stressed out when I hear gossips that I am going out with this person or that person, when I am not. I can’t take any more rumors that I am a flirt or that I cannot settle down with a man because I know that I am not. I know who I am when Alex is by my side.

Sometimes I feel like packing my bags and disappearing to some god forsaken island for a few months. I don’t see you. I don’t see Alex. Don’t see any of my friends, MiniBoyFriends or any other persons. Imagine an old lady, who was found three days after she had died and the local newspaper ran stories of how her eyes, ears and fingers were eaten by the 30 hungry stray cats she had kept for companionship.

Maybe that lady will be me.

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