Hoppy Happy

I was busy pumping milk in the toilet one day. A woman walked in, saw what I was doing and hand flew to cover gaping mouth.
‘Oh, you are pumping milk.’
Apparently I was (I wasn’t kneading myself just for the heck of it). Smiled. Nodded head. Continued with what I was doing. She was still standing in front of me, blocking the light. But never mind, I didn’t need light anyway. Could do it with eyes closed.
‘Banyak dapat?’
‘Well, just enough for the son. Not enough to feed Africa.’ Smiles exchanged.
‘I wouldn’t know. I am single.’ Oh. Okay.
‘I am 44 though’ She continued on. Okay…?
‘At 44 and I am still single!’ Okay already!
I did a quick scan of her. Tall, slim, not-bad looking at all, tired and sad. Standing there with the light behind her, she looked lost, terribly lonely and in dire need of a friend.

We exchanged names. Warmth in Cubicle #2, West Wing Toilet, Level 3. She was Jee. Jilted by her boyfriend of eight years, turned down many proposals from married men, had aged and sick parents that depended heavily on her, yearned to get away from it all, marry and be merry. A really nice girl, but a sad one too.

Jee, my new friend.

I refuse to believe that marriage is a solve-all solution, a master-key to happiness, because it is not (it can be headachy in fact). Happiness doesn’t come packaged in the form of a husband and children. Undeniably, I am happier for being blessed with Yamtuan, Dot and Sun. And I can’t thank Him enough. Having said that, I still think that to walk into a marriage and putting that responsibility on the spouse is a bit of a tall-order. ‘Thee I wed. Now, thou shalt make me happy OR ELSE.’ Uhuh, i don’t think that is even remotely fair.

I believe one’s own happiness is one’s own responsibility. A marriage is only happy if we make it to be, want it to be. Being single or divorced is no excuse to be unhappy too. And if we stop asking around, ‘where is MY share of happiness?’, I believe we will be happier. It is not up to others to give it to us. It is for us to beeeeeeeeeee.

Happiness is a state of being. And being happy is voluntary. I was asked by ex-es, ‘are you happy (now that you've left me)?’ There was a time when my answer was ‘can lah’ or ‘so and so’ or ‘biasa je’. But once I decided that I had spent enough time waiting for happiness to come falling head first onto my lap, and just BE happy instead, I AM happier. Now when asked the same question, my answer is, ‘very!’ because that is how I want myself to be – very happy.

I think we all need to do a self-inventory on a regular basis; you know, see ourself as how others must see us. Counting all the charges; negative positive neutral proton electron all. Do we attract good things or do we repel them - unknowingly? Quality assurance. Quality control. In-process inspection. Final inspection. Packaging. Labeling. Stock check.

Getting more friends or attracting candidates for the post of ‘husband’ is all about marketing.

Decide the target market – young-barely-legal-boys, or mature-men, or bald-sexy, or brooding-mysterious, or plump-clownish, what-have-you (whatever turns YOU on, sister!). Strategise! Look at the product – you. Look at the packaging – your attitude, colour coordination, presentation etc. Look at the after-sales service – consistency, ilmu, iman. Look at the freebies – your ‘assets’, your acrobatics maybe? See how you can increase your marketability. As in securing any sales, make it easy, fun and natural.

First of all though, you MUST like what you are selling. You MUST believe in the marketability of the product. You MUST – can't do it any other way – LIKE the product. You must like YOURself! Find all the stuff that you like about yourself. Find ways to improve things that you don’t like about yourself. Laugh off things that you can’t change and learn to live with them. Once these are done, you will naturally be happier. I guess then it will dawn on you how you don’t really need other people to make you happy, that you don’t need a husband to make you happy. And once this is decided, that all this product improvement is really for yourself, and not to snare a husband, the husband will meekly arrive… as jodoh intends it to be. And accept the hard cruel fact that you can’t have Mawi either, he is happily engaged. Move on sister. Hands OFF him, ye hear?

Terribly simplified I know. But I am writing this as an ex-grouch, ex-slouch. To a certain degree, albeit a teenie weenie one, I do have authority on the subject. Disagree with me? Just laugh it off. And i will laugh too.

Ely, you are happy all the time. Help me out here! Second me!