Sunday, July 30, 2006
I forgot evenings out on the porch, the minor roads out, playing badminton, flying kites, racing down slopes on creaky bikes and taking the weekly friday walks up the neighbourhood to pastor's house for cell group. I forgot the touch of grass, wide open spaces beyond the playground, right across the road. That was the road i used to envision why chickens crossed the road.
I forgot how i jumped through every sofa in the living room; they had to be replaced almost every two years. Hot afternoons after school were spent dragging mattresses out onto the different stair landings and sliding down each level, delighting in every rhythmic bumpbumpbump along the way.
But most of all i forgot what it was like to have parents on evenings. for dinners. to hear the car rev up the porch after i'd showered after doing something spectacularly dirty and silly and stamp my feet hard on the floor so they'd know i was waiting. One night i panicked because i didn't have a straw to hoist up my Singapore flag for art class the next day, and dad took a saw to the tree in the garden and sweatily sawed me a rough crooked stick. i wrinkled my nose and thanked my maid when she found a straw at last. And then those nights i'd play catcharoo with mom in the room we used to share. One two three, she'd pretend not to catch me as i ran up and down the master bedroom, then pop, and she'd swing me hard against all currents of air. Then it was time for coolie-cool, as i called it, and we'd switch on the aircon and she'd "meowtickle" me to bed, after i'd sheeshee and dadu-ed. And i'd hug my coupon tight and listen to bedtime stories of Cao Cao, liu bei and zhu ge liang. Sometimes she remembered snippets of The Red Chamber, and sometimes i'd listen to stories of The Water Margin. Yue Fei, Emperor Kang Xi, stories of how CaoCao chained his warships together at sea and paid for it dearly when they were burnt down. And i'd marvel at how much she knew, and how i loved her for her stories.
Somewhere past time's past, lie the roots of all lovely smelling thoughts. And that in itself is legend enough for me. Joyce Lim unzipped at 12:08 PM with 0 comments
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