Lately I've been thinking and wondering whatever happened to Ayom. A sign of mid-life crisis when I find myself constantly escaping inside myself just to get a few minutes of much needed time-out from the evils of life. What the heck was I thinking? After all these years, he didn't exactly popped up in my mind first thing when I wake up every morning. He was never in my top ten list of things to accomplish in my life before I die either.
It's only recently when I've been reading sappy novels about arranged marriages and being in love after marriage that triggers this 'what if' question in my head. What if I had said 'Yes' on that fateful Sunday night when mom casually brought up his mother's proposal while I was about to take my first bite of the toasted bread and cheese on my bed. Needless to say, I ended up choking on the bread.
The first thing that entered my head was, 'Shit. What about that friend/more than friend/not exactly steady but we have just started the-kissing-stage boyfriend?'. What about 925? I was only 21. The least I could do is keep my options open. Well, the boyfriend was not exactly ready for something serious at that moment and the chances of 925 ever proposing is as big as a fat zero because I have yet to admit to myself that 925 might not even remember my name.
I told my mom "No". I did say "Yes" at one point but mom was like "Are you sure?" with that frown on her face. So I said 'No'. Anyway, my excuse was that I just started my first year in Poly pursuing that much needed diploma and I have to clear five years of that. I can get married somewhere in between but I’d rather start the first 2 years totally free from wifely obligations before finally succumbing to the inevitable. His mother wanted my answer as soon as possible but my mom was stalling with phrases like 'Maybe after 5 years..?' They take that as a 'No' and eventually he got married a few months later to another girl. Arranged? Beats me. I never asked.
So those few nights saw me on hot coals and persuading the then Mr 'just-progressed-to-kissing-stage' Boyfriend that I would need him to present himself to my parents. He was super reluctant and that was the beginning of the end for me. Mr Asshole decided it's high time he disappear together with that girl he showed off to me at the back of his bike. And Mr 925 decided that the 'umbrella incident' does not justify remembering my name either.
My life took a different turn from then on and yes, I'm wondering now. I can't visualise how he look like now. Heck, I can't even remember how he really looked like back then.
We were kids growing up in the same block in Boon Lay. I was friends with his sister. We used to exchange dishes during the fasting month. We played with our own circle of friends. He was 5 years my senior, has seen me at my worst and like any other little girl, I didn't give a hoot about him. He probably couldn't care less about the scruffy girl living a few doors down from him either.
One afternoon, his sister invited me to play carrom with her. I was about eleven maybe twelve years old at that time. He decided to join in and that afternoon saw us sitting in their living room with the carrom board in front of us. I was sitting opposite him, pretending to know the game, pondering my move and confidently shoot the striker - from the wrong angle! He laughed but I guessed he must have been amused by my stupidity to correct me. Needless to say, he won the game but I didn’t really care. I didn't think about it back then and didn't quite banged my head against the wall in frustration either. There were no hearts racing, manic giggling, knees turned to jelly shit. Nothing.
Then his family shifted. I grew breasts, gradually became short-sighted, hormones raging all over the place and have decided that all guys are remotely cute just because I couldn't see clearly and refused to wear glasses.
I visited his new house once. He was there but I didn't get a clear view of him. A few years later, our family shifted to another neighbourhood. I refused to wear glasses and was content with my blurry world. Then, I had a part-time job and splurged on my first contact lenses. It gave me new meaning and the world became more interesting. On the day when I did not wear my lenses, I bumped into him at Boon Lay and we took 99 together as he was on his way to Jalan Bahar camp which was along the route. He was super friendly and did not appear to be embarrassed to be seen with me. I like this side of him and yes, I didn't get a clear view of him although I knew it was him. Yes, he was that familiar to me. Like my brothers, I don't have to see their faces to know which one I'm talking to. Everything was so hazy and blurry that day though and I cursed myself for not wearing those damn lenses.
Occasionally, his mom would send him over to collect clothes that my mum has sewed for his family, ketupats for Hari Raya and whatever gifts which require exchanging just like what we usually did back in our old home in Boon Lay. All those time when he came over, I did not wore my contacts. I mean I was always wearing them but on the rare occasion that I didn't, he will appear. It's like fate just refused to let me see how he really looked like.
The kampong spirit however still lives on. His parents were super nice and suddenly out of the blue, they decided to choose me as a potential daughter-in-law. There were no precedent cases. I was the first born. This never happened before. I didn't know what to do. So I just said 'No' although deep inside, I was very, very excited that I was up for grabs. Nevermind that he was not asking for it. Nevermind that it was not someone I've been admiring, chasing, crying, fawning or losing sleep over either. Nevermind that he's not 925 or bloody Mr Boyfriend. I'm available and that's what counts. But my ideals as a 21 year old virgin is so cookie-cutter perfect that unfortunately blurred up real life itself. I wanted a prince and a castle and I forgot that both did not exist.
It was my brother, who was 2 years my junior, who hit the nail on the head. He voiced out that all these times when Ayom's mother would send him over to collect stuff from us, didn't we see it? Why didnt' they send Pari, the eldest? How come Siti, my childhood friend didn't make the trip? Why must it always be Ayom? We were stumped and at that moment, I was too stupid to be flattered.
Thinking about it, what if I were to really accept his hand in marriage at that time? Will I end up like how I am now? Will I fall in love with him after we get married? I don't think he will criticize my parents, look down on my siblings and always refer to my sister as a cheap slut. I don't think he will prevent me from catching up with my friends over coffee. I don't think he will disallow me from visiting my parents. I don't think he will take my money. I don't think he will stop working and sit at home the whole day. I don't think he will scream at me just because I forgot to include the squid when I tapau-ed home his yong tau foo. I don't think he will make me cry.
Yes, I don't think Ayom will make me cry.
Last I heard he has 2 kids and that's about it. Anyway, whatever it is, I knew he was always there. I didn't acknowledge it but he was always there, from that afternoon when he laughed at my stupid attempt to strike the queen from the wrong angle on the carrom board. In a remote corner of my heart where it's still intact and not totally broken like my spirit, he resides safely in a cocoon of memories of the Ayom I know.
Years ago, I stupidly rejected the union and fate decided not to let me visualise in the years to come. In these next few years left of my life, I will always be wondering what my life will be like if I were to say "Yes" from a genuine proposal and how the magic will be like if I were to fall in love with him only after we signed on the dotted line.
It's only recently when I've been reading sappy novels about arranged marriages and being in love after marriage that triggers this 'what if' question in my head. What if I had said 'Yes' on that fateful Sunday night when mom casually brought up his mother's proposal while I was about to take my first bite of the toasted bread and cheese on my bed. Needless to say, I ended up choking on the bread.
The first thing that entered my head was, 'Shit. What about that friend/more than friend/not exactly steady but we have just started the-kissing-stage boyfriend?'. What about 925? I was only 21. The least I could do is keep my options open. Well, the boyfriend was not exactly ready for something serious at that moment and the chances of 925 ever proposing is as big as a fat zero because I have yet to admit to myself that 925 might not even remember my name.
I told my mom "No". I did say "Yes" at one point but mom was like "Are you sure?" with that frown on her face. So I said 'No'. Anyway, my excuse was that I just started my first year in Poly pursuing that much needed diploma and I have to clear five years of that. I can get married somewhere in between but I’d rather start the first 2 years totally free from wifely obligations before finally succumbing to the inevitable. His mother wanted my answer as soon as possible but my mom was stalling with phrases like 'Maybe after 5 years..?' They take that as a 'No' and eventually he got married a few months later to another girl. Arranged? Beats me. I never asked.
So those few nights saw me on hot coals and persuading the then Mr 'just-progressed-to-kissing-stage' Boyfriend that I would need him to present himself to my parents. He was super reluctant and that was the beginning of the end for me. Mr Asshole decided it's high time he disappear together with that girl he showed off to me at the back of his bike. And Mr 925 decided that the 'umbrella incident' does not justify remembering my name either.
My life took a different turn from then on and yes, I'm wondering now. I can't visualise how he look like now. Heck, I can't even remember how he really looked like back then.
We were kids growing up in the same block in Boon Lay. I was friends with his sister. We used to exchange dishes during the fasting month. We played with our own circle of friends. He was 5 years my senior, has seen me at my worst and like any other little girl, I didn't give a hoot about him. He probably couldn't care less about the scruffy girl living a few doors down from him either.
One afternoon, his sister invited me to play carrom with her. I was about eleven maybe twelve years old at that time. He decided to join in and that afternoon saw us sitting in their living room with the carrom board in front of us. I was sitting opposite him, pretending to know the game, pondering my move and confidently shoot the striker - from the wrong angle! He laughed but I guessed he must have been amused by my stupidity to correct me. Needless to say, he won the game but I didn’t really care. I didn't think about it back then and didn't quite banged my head against the wall in frustration either. There were no hearts racing, manic giggling, knees turned to jelly shit. Nothing.
Then his family shifted. I grew breasts, gradually became short-sighted, hormones raging all over the place and have decided that all guys are remotely cute just because I couldn't see clearly and refused to wear glasses.
I visited his new house once. He was there but I didn't get a clear view of him. A few years later, our family shifted to another neighbourhood. I refused to wear glasses and was content with my blurry world. Then, I had a part-time job and splurged on my first contact lenses. It gave me new meaning and the world became more interesting. On the day when I did not wear my lenses, I bumped into him at Boon Lay and we took 99 together as he was on his way to Jalan Bahar camp which was along the route. He was super friendly and did not appear to be embarrassed to be seen with me. I like this side of him and yes, I didn't get a clear view of him although I knew it was him. Yes, he was that familiar to me. Like my brothers, I don't have to see their faces to know which one I'm talking to. Everything was so hazy and blurry that day though and I cursed myself for not wearing those damn lenses.
Occasionally, his mom would send him over to collect clothes that my mum has sewed for his family, ketupats for Hari Raya and whatever gifts which require exchanging just like what we usually did back in our old home in Boon Lay. All those time when he came over, I did not wore my contacts. I mean I was always wearing them but on the rare occasion that I didn't, he will appear. It's like fate just refused to let me see how he really looked like.
The kampong spirit however still lives on. His parents were super nice and suddenly out of the blue, they decided to choose me as a potential daughter-in-law. There were no precedent cases. I was the first born. This never happened before. I didn't know what to do. So I just said 'No' although deep inside, I was very, very excited that I was up for grabs. Nevermind that he was not asking for it. Nevermind that it was not someone I've been admiring, chasing, crying, fawning or losing sleep over either. Nevermind that he's not 925 or bloody Mr Boyfriend. I'm available and that's what counts. But my ideals as a 21 year old virgin is so cookie-cutter perfect that unfortunately blurred up real life itself. I wanted a prince and a castle and I forgot that both did not exist.
It was my brother, who was 2 years my junior, who hit the nail on the head. He voiced out that all these times when Ayom's mother would send him over to collect stuff from us, didn't we see it? Why didnt' they send Pari, the eldest? How come Siti, my childhood friend didn't make the trip? Why must it always be Ayom? We were stumped and at that moment, I was too stupid to be flattered.
Thinking about it, what if I were to really accept his hand in marriage at that time? Will I end up like how I am now? Will I fall in love with him after we get married? I don't think he will criticize my parents, look down on my siblings and always refer to my sister as a cheap slut. I don't think he will prevent me from catching up with my friends over coffee. I don't think he will disallow me from visiting my parents. I don't think he will take my money. I don't think he will stop working and sit at home the whole day. I don't think he will scream at me just because I forgot to include the squid when I tapau-ed home his yong tau foo. I don't think he will make me cry.
Yes, I don't think Ayom will make me cry.
Last I heard he has 2 kids and that's about it. Anyway, whatever it is, I knew he was always there. I didn't acknowledge it but he was always there, from that afternoon when he laughed at my stupid attempt to strike the queen from the wrong angle on the carrom board. In a remote corner of my heart where it's still intact and not totally broken like my spirit, he resides safely in a cocoon of memories of the Ayom I know.
Years ago, I stupidly rejected the union and fate decided not to let me visualise in the years to come. In these next few years left of my life, I will always be wondering what my life will be like if I were to say "Yes" from a genuine proposal and how the magic will be like if I were to fall in love with him only after we signed on the dotted line.
