Yesterday evening I had to meet someone at Puteri Harbour and along the way, I saw throngs of foreign men in construction hats and safety vests walking into the woodland.
Managed to see container houses in between the bushes. I looked into the distance and saw magnificent skyscrapers enhancing the evening red sky. An irony; labelling this city “world class”, “education hub” blah blah while the ones who carry the heavy iron and ironing out the sketched ideas live in container houses.
I want to hug all of them.
Today I accompanied my parents to the morning market. I don’t enjoy getting up on a Sunday morning to go out, but once I’m out it’s really no biggie. I love watching people at the morning market.
The morning market or Malay word is “Pasar Pagi” or sometimes it’s called “Pasar Tani” (Farmer’s market) is where farmers sell their goods there. I highly doubt that they grew the vegetables themselves but whatever. Counterfeit watches and electronics. My dad buys his bottle of honey there every Sunday and will come home every time to test the authenticity of his honey. I’d rather just spend at a mall. What’s enjoyable to me is watching people at the morning market. Another kind of charm.
From the lady in niqab who was watching her phone while attending her stall selling belts and faux leather goods, to the young man behind the table full of electronics reading a book, to the buskers who looked like they were still in the 80s singing Hey Jude joyfully.
The customer’s side, I watched sleepy people walking, foreign women in short sleeves t-shirts and three-quarter pants wearing tudung trying out the RM10 bundle jeans, and more and more foreign people. Their quarters aren’t exactly nearby, so they either walked or took the bus. Perhaps malls would be inaccessible economically, so this is where they go to spend their hard-earned ringgit. They really are hardworkers. I want to hug them all.
I don’t like watching how the sellers treat the foreign customers roughly, or not as sweet as they were with us. What can I do about that?
Then I passed by a 3 for RM10 socks counter. A foreign couple caught my eye. The guy looked like from Bangladesh or somewhere, and the girl a South East Asian. The guy was trying to haggle his socks or something and the girl hit him lightly, giggling. Somehow, watching them, hit a soft spot in me. When I was younger I used to frown upon how maids wanted boyfriends to go out on Sundays with, but now I saw how very human that need was. You know, to feel cared for. I actually unintentionally took their pictures here:
I went back home with them in my head (it’s Tuesday already, but I started writing this post on Sunday) thinking about what other basic human needs are. Food, water, air. To love and be loved. Is that be loved part necessary? 25 years and I’ve been fine without being in a relationship.
Where did I get my love from?
I don’t think I received any special preferential treatment from my parents. They treat us all the same (even though my siblings claim I’m the golden child). At breakfast I joked about how I wanted a husband to carry my bag for me (it’s so tiring zzz my body is getting old) and my father told me if I wanted to marry, I’m going to have to live with my father forever. I was like whoa, my parents love me so much they don’t want me to leave them. “You’re the only one I can rely on now, your siblings are in their own world,” he added.
What this means is that they’ve made their own plans to start their own families. I don’t have that plan yet, because now my focus is sharing with others how they can enjoy solace and comfort no matter the circumstances. I want to share with people the answers are from within. That is where my love is from. Myself.
From the deepest part of myself, I know I will be okay.
I thought about how a man recently told me he liked me because my “logic brain” was high. “Of the 15 girls I’ve dated, only 5 had brains like yours.” Another man had told me he liked me because I was “smart”, so it’s not something I think of. To me you can see whatever you want to see.
The question that emerged instead was, “What’s so good about dating?”
I asked this question to the guy who had 15 ex-girlfriends.
He said, “Asyik tau”. Asyik in Singlish would be “Syiok”. Syiok to explain in English would be the kind of feeling you get when infatuated, sizzling in your own head drinking cocaine syrup or something. No idea.
“How asyik?” I asked.
“When you’re cold someone hugs you,”
“I’m not a good guy when I’m dating. I kiss the girls.”
“You mean bringing into the bedroom and stuff?”
“Yeah, but not to making-love.”
“Bah! Someone’s daughter!”
“Hey, they want it too.”
“How do you stop yourself from the point of making love then?”
“Just don’t take off your pants.”
“You mean when you’re kissing you’re conscious?”
“You definitely are. You’ll just remind each other.”
Oh. Coming from the point of view of someone who’s open, but never involved in a relationship, this was new. Sex is haram (not permitted) before marriage in Islam. So is kissing, and touching. But I guess some people only see sex as haram and others as permissible. It’s not right, but I guess they are also guided by this sexual energy while being conscious of their religious moral codes. Wrong, but it’s not for me to judge their levels of consciousness. People just act according to what they want without thinking. You do too, in shopping or binge-watching television series.
“So why do you even like me?”
“What are you talking about? Feelings come first before the need to touch someone! Feelings and the need to touch are separate.”
“Are you sure guys even think like that?”
“Yeah, I do, see, I’m different.”
“With fifteen ex-girlfriends.”
“Well I didn’t touch them all..”
I let the conversation trail off and end there. He’s not someone I’m interested in, I was just looking for a new story from somebody.
Then I thought: wouldn’t it be interesting to see what kind of a person I am if I dated somebody. Pretty sure the same person, but it would be interesting nonetheless. I decided that in 2018, I was going to start dating. I asked my baby brother for permission (because I still don’t want to allow just any guy the privilege of having spent alone time with me) to meet guys not on business settings next year.
He said no.
See, from my parents to my baby brother, they want me for themselves lmao.
I’m still open to it though. We’ll see what happens.
Good luck Fifi.