Counting My Blessings

Life itself is a quotation.
- Jorge Luis Borges

A lot has been going on lately. April 24^th was the official date practical training ended. By saying official, I have two months to go as an actuarial intern. Yes, I am extending my training, only to realise that I need that two months break. Badly.

As I flipped through my report, the acknowledgement page attracted me most. Normally we say our thanks and include some names, but seldom the names of our family and friends. Therefore, I write now to appreciate those who aside my colleagues and lecturers have especially stood by me.

With a lot that has been loitering in my numbskull, I frequently blinked the memories I had with my late maternal grandfather. I am not quite sure why. But whenever it blinked, there was a sudden rush of blood pumping through my heart followed by a bad hunch. I do not believe it concerns arwah, but one thing I know is that my intuition has yet to fail me.

Speaking of arwah, and looking back at how I was brought up, arwah is the most who I have to thank for. Just like how many of you were brought up by your grandparents, I am no exception. He died when I was eight, when I could even understand the true meaning of love. But because it was unconditional his love grew on me through my family – the story tellers. My story somehow is sung in a few songs later be added in a playlist which then be played many times.

When some were amazed at how I do not think like my age, I always just smiled in return. It seems almost impossible for a 20 year old to not think like so. I honestly do not understand you people. How ever should a 20 year old think? I have made mistakes, silly ones in fact, just like any other 20 year old would do.

Many a time I wonder what went wrong. Because boy I am telling you, it is hard for me to befriend someone - to really become friends with. Mother on the contrary thinks it is okay, reason being they do not level up to my thinking. And come what may, the true ones will stay, she comforted.

How does arwah fit in here? He, I believe is the starting point to my weirdness. My questions were answered to the silliest thing, but never with a silence. Because I am a firstborn growing up means being surrounded by adults - listening to my uncles and aunts talking and observing their behaviours. And when the little ones came in, I grew up discretely becoming their role model. So if you must know, that, that is why I do not think like a 20 year old.

I miss him. I will always dearly miss him.

I remember the walk after work accompanied by my boss when he asked me how old I am. And the conversation somehow revolved around how I grew up. It got me thinking later that when I said yes I have had proper education in what sense was I referring to. I realise now that it was the busy schedule my parents had set up for my sister and I when we were kids that moulded our learning curves quite extraordinarily.

When other kids would have their Saturday morning slept in, Alia and I were jumping our fingers on the pianoforte. At times getting confused understanding the Italian terms. There were nights when we attended speech classes and the next thing I remember I was on stage story-telling the audience. Haha. Ah… the journey to mental arithmetic and mengaji class. Subang Jaya back then seemed so far away. Father would fall asleep in the car while waiting for me to finish. It is a wonder how my parents scouted these classes, like the swimming class I had at this private kindergarten in Shah Alam. Funny.

I got jittery every Friday night though because that is when we would go out for dinner and later went to MPH. Before I could recall my own bookshelf is filled with a mismatch of genre. Oh boy. We had the freedom to choose what we want to read, but mother will always buy us those mind game books. I love, love the word search game because that is the easiest. Oh yes, The Archie’s comic, fun!

Wow. I did not intend for it to be that long, but bear with me. Just a few more I must mention. Well you have all the liberty to close this page, goodbye to you.

Hmm okay. L who I really look up to (literally in fact) is amongst my other counting of blessings. She has been nothing but a sister to me. I have yet to sum up my thank you. We will wait for that day, I promise to make it special because you are special. But I will always be the cuter one, okay?

Anyway, I never thought that the weirdness in me would somehow intersect with another wacko. We take bimbo seriously in fact we take himbo (male version of bimbo) more seriously. Well we do contradict with each other at odd times. Like how she feels about an infant’s behaviour is more exciting than knowing his full name. I am telling you she is more of a wacko than I am. Perhaps because of the height… hmm.

Ah, just pulling your legs off. But thank you. Thank you for assuring me that I am never alone. You are the best - the crème de la crème.

You je paling setia datang kalau I jemput!

Tu lah nanti you dah takde. Dah la you're the ONLY one yang I wajib jumpa dulu...

You're great la Syaza... Just need to realize it…

Dear M, no, you are the great one. To accept me with open arms even after the shits I said. Thank you. Nothing more I can say but I hope you read me well.

It's always helpful to learn from your mistakes because then your mistakes seem worthwhile - Garry Marshall.