Small Thief Big Theft

Small Thief

We watched Time Traveller’s Wife at TGV of Sunway Pyramid. The movie was so-and-so, HBO standard I would say. Eric Bana has never looked so good, though :D.

5 minutes after we left the theatre, we realised that Yamtuan’s handphone, was missing. He must have dropped it as we were walking out from the place, or the HP could have slipped off from his lap. We rushed back inside, with TGV staff, but couldn’t find the HP. Rang the number many times, but it was on silent mode and whoever took it wasn’t in the mood to chat. The TGV staff asked us to fill up the Lost-and-Found form saying they would contact us if they hear anything. Not a chance, we thought, but filled up the form anyway.

I sent messages to the number. Saying please return the phone. The phone wouldn’t be valued much at 2nd hand HP dealers, but the content, the messages, the pictures, the phone directory are all high value to us. Return it, do the right thing, we’ll reward you, I said.

Wasn’t really hoping though.

About an hour after that, I received a call from that number. Akak mau ini phone balik? He asked to meet me outside of the Pyramid, at KFC. I said, no, I don’t know this place, I don’t know where outside is, or where KFC is located. Why don’t you come back inside, meet me at McD by the ice rink?

He agreed.

I asked Yamtuan to go get a Security personnel in case Mr Found wanted to ‘sell’ me the phone.

I sat by the smiling yellow Mr.Mc.Donald and saw the guy. He was wearing TGV shirt and even had a TGV nametag on. He was in the theatre with us, helping us look for the phone. He forgot to look in his pocket, apparently.

Said he wanted to return the HP earlier but was afraid his boss would be angry. Things found must be sent to Lost-and-Found counter immediately, which he didn’t. Yes, but why wait after an hour?

And there came the moment of awkward silence. He was probably waiting for me to honor my promise of bountiful reward. But my hands didn’t go anywhere near my purse. And then he said, he had to go. I said, thank you for doing the right thing. God will reward you. He smiled, I smiled. And he left.

As in any good Hindi movie, Yamtuan and Mr.Mean Muscles only arrived after the bad boys were beaten to pulp by the leading star.



Big Theft

My happiness was stolen.

I was careless, I left it lying around unattended. It must have slipped off from my lap, or fallen off from where I was sitting. I took it for granted, thought it was exclusively mine for keeps. I probably was too busy with daily chores, with living life, to really pay attention to it, my carelessness had a price. Any opportunist, any TGV operator could see it lying around and attempted to make it his/hers. In this case, the TGV operator happened to be someone’s wife, a mother of four kids.

Losing it was a big blow to me. It was like seeing my father passed away, or being told that my mother had passed on, over and over again. It was like someone just died. Someone I loved dearly- so dearly that I didn’t know how to mourn the loss. I didn’t know how to cry yet I must have cried oceans.

I could probably eventually get another one, but I didn’t want a new one, it wouldn’t be the same. I don’t care for better, I want the same worn-out ruggedy cheapo HP (happiness) that I had.

I sent messages to the thieves (she had an accomplice, of course). Saying please return my HP. It wouldn’t be valued much anywhere, but it meant the whole world to me. And my three kids.

Wasn’t really hoping though.

But miracles of miracles, I got it back. The accomplice realized that stealing is stealing, and decided to do the right thing (if it was the right thing, but that would be another bloggable material. I better not venture there).

And so it was handed back to me. It wasn’t whole anymore, not intact. In fact, the trust element at the base, was shattered to smithereens. I dont quite know how that can be fixed, but it must. Audio part had the laughter bit erased. Visual files had images of the thief that couldnt be deleted, try as i might.

Not whole. My HP wasn’t perfect to begin with, but I loved it. It has lost its beautiful colors. Looks bleak now. Contains many defects too, like it is falling apart. Some can be fixed, some will take a while. I can see it requires a lot of repair works, it will probably cost a chamber or two of my heart. Sigh. But I do believe that it is worth saving - whatever the cost.

I can only pray that life provides me with good UHUs and masking tape! Let's hope i still have a good stock of Patience and Strength for the job ahead.

Alhamdulillah, I got my HP back! At the moment, that’s all that matters.

As in any good Hindi movie, the songs are all mimed. Kajol in person, doesn’t really sing that well.

Selling - Lie Vs Die

Levi’s

A female customer sashayed into the Levi’s store. Rummaged through the many racks of many styles of the jeans. Found one style that she particularly liked. The right blue, the right cut. Not super-super low (stomach where to put?), not slim-fit either (more like fit with an ‘a’ in palce of ‘I’), and no tacky bling-blings (too old for shineshine). The jeans are perfect for her shape and style.
Happy with the gem she discovered, but couldn’t find the size that she wanted.

‘Excuse me,’ she nudged a salesman.. salesboy may be a better term to use.

‘Do you have this in waist size 28?’
He looked her up and down, eyes lingered at her waist a few seconds too long than necessary and replied OUT LOUD.

‘You sure ah? You look like you are a 31.’

She ended up not buying anything from the store. Never mind if her waist size was really 31.

Will she go there again? NEVER. Vomit blood.

La Senza

A customer waddled in the la Senza looking for a nightwear. Not too sexy lest her kids would be horrified, not too boring either or the husband would mistake her for his grandmother.

Found one Betty Boop set. Had ‘tease me’ on the front – perfect for the husband, but decent and cute enough to get approvals from the kids.

‘Is this ‘free size’?’ she asked the salesgirl.

‘No, it comes in various sizes. We have from XS to XL’

‘Let me try your M’ the customer said. She was really an L, but she did skip lunch earlier and went to the loo twice in the last hour. At that particular moment, she probably was an M (harapan).

‘You M? No way. Try the XS’ the salesgirl offered. Maybe we should call her ‘saleslady’ instead, no?

She ended up buying an M (a bit tight though, but never mind).

Will she go there again? You bet!

DISCLAIMER: Both cases may not necessarily be me.

God & Rezeki - according to my kids

1) There are these books on your shoulder where Allah grades you. If you do good, you get a ‘right’ (√) if you don’t, you’ll get a cross (x). A lot of rights will get you Nombor Satu.

2) If you suddenly ‘tebogel’, Allah will not laugh at you.

3) Askar kerja sumber rezeki.

4) Rezeki comes in through open doors. Sometimes He throws in cash, sometimes food, sometimes clothes.

5) Allah is only one, but He is everywhere at any one time.

6) Rezeki is anything everything that Allah gives and what a mother cooks.

7) Allah is bigger than ghosts or ultraman, by billionbillion times

Chet

Tinggalkan sekolah dah lama. Sama batch dengan saya, ada 203 orang (kalau tak silap). Mana-mana yang banyak ‘kes’ dan menonjol peribadinya, atau pernah berkongsi susah serba sikit atau geng ketawa, saya ingat lah sampai hari ni. Namun ada yang masa sekolah dulu, tak berapa bercampur dengan saya, tak ada peristiwa ketara untuk duduk mengenang dan ketawa bersama, maka mereka mudah saja lekang dari ingatan.

Zaitun adalah salah seorang dari mereka yang saya tak berapa ingat. Saya tahu disekolah dulu, dia dipanggil Chet. Dia kelas Sarjana, budak-budak perempuannya rock, dan mereka cukup berkawan sesama sendiri saja. Chet. Apa kesah bersama saya dengan Chet masa sekolah dulu? Entah. Tak ingat kalau ada.

Minggu lepas salah seorang rakan menitipkan berita, Chet baru kehilangan suami pada 18 Ogos lalu.

Sepanjang berkongsi hidup, mereka dianugerahkan 4 orang cahayamata. Paling tua berusia 15 tahun, paling muda baru 3 tahun.

Suaminya pergi tanpa petanda, tanpa sakit ketara. Tiba-tiba rebah dan pergi begitu saja. Mudah sungguh! Kita tak tau jadual kita. Entah bagaimana cara kita dijemput, entah apa yang kita sedang lakukan ketika masanya tiba.

Chet surirumah sepenuh masa.

Chet bukan sahaja kehilangan suami, dia kehilangan sumber kehidupan. Bagaimanalah Chet akan menyara anak yang empat orang?

Saya hubungi Chet. Bersembang dengannya beberapa minit. Tak kesahlah dia ingat saya atau tidak atau saya ingat dia atau tidak.

Tak tergamak pula nak tanya apa rancangan Chet selepas ini. Dalam hati, saya hanya boleh berharap suaminya pergi tanpa meninggalkan beban hutang yang banyak. Harap suaminya ada persiapan untuk keluarga seperti insuran dan wang simpanan memadai sehingga Chet boleh berdikari semula.

Ketika Abah pergi, kami juga tidak bersedia. Dia tak sakit, kelihatannya sihat dan gembira menyambut ketibaan Hari Raya. Seakan-akan hilang bumi tempat berpijak tatkala Abah tiba-tiba pergi.

Selepas tu, susahnya kami menguruskan kereta yang perlu dijual, pembinaan rumah yang terbengkalai, menguruskan pencen dan macam-macam lagi. Mak tak pernah pon tengok dokumen kereta. Macamana nak jual sedangkan dokumennya tak tau dimana? Mak surirumah sepenuh masa. Dia tak tau banyak urusan. Dia bergantung pada Abah. Sudahnya ada jiran yang pelawa diri untuk tolong, palsukan dokumen dengan dia sendiri jadi pemilik baru. Akibatnya, kami tak nampak duit tu. Mintak jugak sikit sebab nak Hajikan Abah – dapatlah cukup, itupun jiran yang sama juga uruskan. Entah lah, kami tak mau berburuk sangka.

Urusan pencen mengambil masa berbulan-bulan. Sehingga peringkat Mak makan nasi berulamkan garam. Sedekah orangramai tak bertahan lama. Simpanan Abah tak banyak dan dia tiada insuran nyawa. Adik masih sekolah, kakak dan saya masing-masing di universiti. Saya tak ada biasiswa.

Pada awal sebulan dua kematian Abah, jiran-jiran, kawan-kawan Mak-Abah, saudara mara, ramai yang membantu. Selepas beberapa lama, bantuan terhenti, sebab isteri masing-masing cemburukan Mak yang kini berstatus janda. Ketika Mak keliling kampong cari bunga untuk dibuat bunga rampai nak tabur di kubur Abah, fitnah yang tertabur! Kononnya Mak nak bunga-bunga itu untuk mandi bunga memohon jodoh baru. Kesian Mak.

Walaupun saya sendiri bekerja, Insya-Allah tak bergantung sepenuhnya pada suami, saya sendiri tak terbayang kehidupan tanpa dia. Malahan takut nak membayangkannya.
Saya tak mungkin faham perasaan Chet sebab saya tak pernah melaluinya. Namun saya kira saya faham perasaan anak-anak Chet yang ditinggalkan ayah.

Kalau bolehlah saya seru di sini, jika anda ex-SAMURA, jika anda kenal Zaitun Muhamad, batch SPM 1987 dan ingin membantu meringankan beban hidupnya dan membawa sedikit keceriaan untuk anak-anaknya di Hari Raya nanti, hubungi lah saya.

Jika anda tidak kenal Chet sekalipon, dan tetap ingin membantu, hubungilah saya.

Fenomena Biasa di Bulan Ramadhan

1. Mengantuk
Lepas Isya saya dah panjat katil. Kadang-kadang Isya’ postpone dengan niat nak buat sembahyang malam, sudahnya Isya berlaku waktu sahur. Bila dah pagi, perjalanan ke tempat kerja terasa begitu jauh dan memengantukkan. Di ofis pulak, sengkang mata dengan kayu mancis, tupang dagu dengan kayu ruler.

2. Sejuk
Kat ofis ni dah berjaket, berbalut bagai lepat pisang. Sejuknya. Kalau boleh nak pakai telekung sepanjang hari. Bila tangan mencecah air, aduhai menggelatuk gigi. Wudhu secara tayamum saja boleh? Tak tahan sejuk.

3. Bergaduh
Bergaduh dengan anak waktu kejutkan dia sahur. Bergaduh lagi petang-petang suruh dia cepat mandi dan bersiap sebab masa dah nak time.

4. Rindu Mak-Abah
Abah meninggal di hari raya. Emak meninggal sebelum puasa. Rindu rindu rindu. Masa mak ada dulu, kalau saya bertadarus dengan abah, mak kerap duduk sebelah tumpang mendengar. Selepas abah tak ada, saya kurang bertadarus. Mengaji malam sementara menunggu isya’ atau selepas sahur sementara menunggu Subuh. Mak akan buatkan air dan teman mengaji.

Waktu ini, saya tak perlu mak masakkan macam-macam yang tekak teringin, tak perlu jugak khidmat nasihat mak tentang masalah harian. Memadai kalau mak ada duduk saja disebelah – cukup lah.

5. Overdose karipap
Hari-hari atas meja mesti ada karipap untuk berbuka. Kurma pon ada, itu sunnah Nabi. Karipap ni tak tau lah mana sunnah mana sunni.

6. Yamtuan jadi orang Kelantan
Ini lah satu-satunya bulan dalam setahun yang Yamtuan akan makan nasi kerabu hari hari. Ketika ini, lidahnya menipis, dia tersasul-sasul bila bercakap. Kojap ‘kato’ kojap ‘kecek’, kojap ‘manggo’, kojap ‘pauh’. Confuse betul. Raya ni tak tau lah dia nak balik Pilah ke nak balik Kelantan.

Fox, Turtle and Me

Dot’s latest short story is about Mother Fox and Mother Turtle. Both just had babies hatched from their eggs (she still thinks all babies hatched from eggs). The story was basically on how both mothers searched for food and protect their hatchlings from harm’s way. Each had their own style of mothering; one’s best intention may be the other’s worst nightmare. Quite deep, but told by Dot in all the simplicity and innocence of a six-year-old. She even had a little line of ‘moral’ at the end of it, just like Aesop’s.

Mothering is not easy an easy job – no one says it is. Mother Ood can sit with Mother Fox and Mother Turtle and we will all have many things in common. We would do anything everything for our offspring – die if we must, kill if the need arises. The babies, newly-hatched, bald, ugly and as slimy as they may be, sit highest in our list of priorities. I probably would do what Foxy did. Hmmm...

Now Mother Ood has a little hatchling watching her moves and then weave stories from her observations. Makes Mother Ood kind of nervous and under pressure to behave, dont you think?

legends of the fall

I consider myself to be a very stable person. Especially, physically.

My ‘centre of gravity’ aka ‘centre of mass’ is low. Imagine a hippo, compare her to a gangly giraffe. Hippos have low centre of gravity, COG (pigs centre is just as low, but I would rather not likened myself to a pig - lest someone sneezes). Giraffes on the other hand, have higher COG. A race car is more stable than a double-decker bus, thus why you race lowered cars and not busses in F1s. Low COG promises better stability for maneuvering and speeding ease. This is the law of physics, don’t dispute it.

My shape is one that is stable too. Compare a pyramid to a cylinder. Same height but different in shape. Because of the big base, pyramids don’t flip whereas cylinders do. Blow hurricanes at me, I will stand still and steady. Blow kisses at skinny winny lollipop of a woman, she might fly away. This is the law of physics too.
Stability in stature. That’s me. There are other words to describe it of course, ‘short and fat’ for example. But where’s the art in ‘short and fat’, right?
Stability in stature.

Just a few weeks back, this stable structure of a me, defied physics. I fell down. Yes.

We were at Giant of Shah Alam, near the stadium. At the parking lot, me in my baju kurung and heels, just flipped and fell down. Many years ago, me falling down was probably a sight to rejoice in. It could still pass as a pretty sight. But at 39 years old and 58kg overweight? A lot of people were horrified at the mere sight of me sprawled on the ground. I cringe to think how many of them would be so traumatized by that ugly sight, they probably had nightmares for many endless nights, became depressed, turned to drugs and ended up as candidates for the next pilihanraya umum.

Yamtuan rushed to help me up. Sun sobbed into my skirt. Tiga had frowns etched on her forehead. Dot went white.

Sakit? Yamtuan asked.

Not really, I have natural absorbers all around to cushion my fall.

The kids went all solemn and quiet, even Tiga – for about 5 minutes. Yamtuan was all sympathy and worry – for about 10 minutes.

Then they all laughed at me.

Sheeesh.

Hips Dont Lie - Try as they might

I moved into this neighborhood last deepavali, so quite recent. From apartment living to terrace house living. I maintain my way of being friendly with neighbors, send them a bit of my cookings - the rare occassions when i venture into the kitchen. Sometimes i send them fruits or whatever else - but always food.

My neighbors are a weird lot though. Very rarely, they send me food. Wendy gave me hangers (to hang clothes!) and evita peron hair clips. Practical gifts, thank you, but i thought it funny still.

Lily, another neighbor went to Langkawi and instead of buying us gamat products, she bought for yamtuan and Sun shirts, dresses for Tiga and Dot, and a blouse for me. 5 garments in total. Elaborate is one thing but i also feel it odd that you should give someone you barely know such personal items. I mean, come on, to give anyone shirts, you need to know their size. Or at least able to guess their size. I dont exactly fancy the idea of someone other than family or close friends to size me up that way. She bought me an M. At least she guessed right. If it was an XL, i would be offended, as XL as i may be.

Yamtuan and me had a big laugh over it though. Maybe this is the new age of neighborhood. What do we know, right? One day shirts, next day undies, how? we said and laughed.

Well, while it didnt exactly happen the next day, Wendy came over last two weekends and asked me my hip size. Yes, my HIP size. I may be a hippy at heart, but no, i dont go around sharing my hip size with neighbors. Why, i asked her, bewildered at the absurdity of her question. Oh, she handed me a package. There were three panties in it. Black, nude and white. Satinny material, trimmed with laces. Beautiful. Sexy. But two sizes too big. said, she bought them in Australia, brand new of course, tags were still intact.

How could i say no to the beaming Wendy. She was so sure she guessed my size right. But halo, TWO sizes too big! She so needed to get her vision corrected.

Later that night, i tried one on. Mother of all Alamaks, it fit me perfectly. Definitely my size.

Hmmmm...

Bring out the celery sticks!