Negative, Beloved, New paradigm that builds life; Breathing is blessings.
—
I thought that virus was reluctant to approach me until that funny doctor said bitterly to me last week “The Gov will SMS directly to you but these sudden symptoms give me a hint. Take care.”
After some inconsistent (+) and (-), being a lethargic patient (the virus pulled all muscles down) and a slow thinker (MZ sent me a confusing email of mine) of home quarantine, I’m back to my own self!
Thanks for toning this pride down. I was not that healthy.
Thanks for curing me. I’m dependent on You.
💝
hey, Mr Sun! I wanna go out everyday just like you if the next is (-) once more!
Woman, Beloved, Toughness in art of beauty— Eyes only see skin.
—
The word “soul” is “nafs” in Arabic, its gender is feminine. It gives me a strong hint that being born as a woman is never a coincidence to me. The feminine quality that is naturally attached to woman is the one grammatically (at least in one oldest language with meticulously accurate vocabulary to attribute meanings), culturally, spiritually attached to the soul too and it should be a good sign that it should not be difficult to sensitively connect to the spirituality rather than to physical (badaniyyun in Arabic) whose original gender is masculine.
Woman, qualifying herself with femininity means strengthening her natural gift and getting closer to the Soul through spirituality.
Weekend is almost over. Next week is physically and intellectually tough. Hope this shallow spirituality can strengthen me in some way.
Welcome, new week! I need to gift you a bucket of alfatihah to calm down. 💝
Witness, Beloved, Umbrella in rainy days, Locked door in dark nights—
—
Still celebrating my hair!
Not every woman likes growing long hair. I do love it. I did short hair in some period of time: senior high school when short hair gave privilege to be called “not too girl” and some recent years when busy days took away the hair time.
Now the long hair period has claimed its prime time back and ready to witness the joy shared by its owner.
May all beings be happy.
with two of those I’m grateful to for their company, witness of my determination and dedication – shortest hair everhair started showing off, witness of new habit: selfie at the home office corner before and after work 🤩longer and longer giving me comfort, witness of pillow face and no-bath work from home 😎50cm+! grow and grow, my dear hair witness of awakening 😘now I can do many things with the hair, witness of new adventure 😘
A lady is walking to the lake. An empty clay jar sits on her waist. Her hair is hanging loose, Listening to love songs, waving to the sky.
Sitting, she looks down Saying hi to her reflection on and on. My hair, thanks for growing long And for listening to my love songs.
A lady is walking back to home. A clay jar full of water sits on her waist. Her hair is waving by the wind: Spreading patchouli fragrance, calming down the lane.
Walking, she looks forward Humming her best love songs. My hair, thanks for spreading good scent And making my life so fragrant. My hair, thanks for being silken And keeping this flame ardent. My hair, grow grow long. My hair, listen to these love songs. My hair, stay here Until home is welcoming me.
—
Each and every one deserves love and appreciation. Today I took longer time to scrutinise and caress my hair; this stubborn tough protein deserves love and appreciation, too.
A hymn for my hair is not too much, an extra love after shampoo to clean, conditioner to soften and sometimes hair dye to match the mood.
my definition of beautiful day: long hair after treatment at the weekend 🥰 (RC Gorman’s artwork, from Pinterest)
You Have got everything: A sweetest smile, A cheery hello, A loving look, A warm hug, A good kiss All in loving care.
Yet in all daydreams of closeness and connection….
I wish to give You a warm kiss, Yet impossible As You are too high Up the sky;
I hope to give You a pretty daffodil Yet unlikely As You are too disguised Behind the curtain;
I want to spread for You a good breakfast Yet too early As You wake up too late In another day;
I want to paint You a red torii Yet too trivial As You know torii much Better than me;
I am writing You secret love poems Yet in vain As You don’t even care They exist.
Beloved, Breath is with what I count life. Breath is in what I save love. Breath is on what I paint faith. A warm kiss, A pretty daffodil, A good breakfast, A red torii, And secret love poems Have livened this breathing Although You have got A sweetest smile, A cheery hello, A loving look, A warm hug, A good kiss All in loving care.
Beloved, I only wish You behind the curtain See me breathing For and with You.
—
This long weekend of Eid Al-Adha is turning to brighter space with slow breathing, daydreaming and chili party.
Happy Eid Al-Adha, family and friends. Hope we are blessed with closeness and connection with the Source of Love.
Alhamdulillah 💝
RC Gorman’s – what an inspirational picture for chili lovers 😁
I’ll send You postcards. Cards with white flower On white paper And some messages On white ink That will glow When You bring it to the dark. Only You and I know what it is Until one day You bring the light To burn it or frame it.
—
Dear you…. 💝
postcards draft for friends – not perfect, yet purely poured from the heart
This cart, Beloved, Been through deserts and oceans, It now resides here.
—
Sometimes she just doesn’t want any. It’s just enough to be what is. Sitting down, ignoring planned route, forgetting prescribed destination, letting other travelers pass by with no hallo or hi, enjoying silence, remembering what’s not describable through resting senses….
Wishing, Beloved, Upon a star where dreams sit Waiting to be picked One by one to the bucket Before the steps reach the home—
—
Many dreams look so much near. Places to go on earth displayed in Pinterest lengthen the list and be a good escape for mind every weekend before dosing off. Can only wish that the lengthened list lengthens the life, pushing the EOL later and later— 🤗
Some dreams can’t even be described…. You are as near as far away…. 🙃
Happy weekend. Oops long weekend.
next year, next year…. please 🥰 want to stand under those trees and greet the women who carry loads on their heads! beautiful! 💝
Deep dive, Beloved, To where soft bodies guard light Wisdom of the dark
—
Nowhere is better than within, where price tag is no longer a concern, where silence and acceptance is currency, where no one looks evil or harmless, where only gratitude and peace reside, where no colour distracts, where pain and joy are blended to ecstatic reality….
….where I finally get sleepy 😁
Salaam.
the no-longer-cost-fortune-yet-still-cost-a-wisdom gemstone called pearl is produced through 100’s of layers of mineral secreted by mollusk to cover around irritants that enter its shells – if a soft body of mollusk can do it, how can’t we human beings?
Reading, Beloved Deciphering messages Sent by soul that shines—
—
Sending my warm regards to all readers in the world. Hope we’re all blessed with wisdom and fun from reading and what is read.
Salaam…. 🙏🏼
‘ve always wanted to read this book but never happens; maybe my 5 people are not those in his book 😎 skipped (maybe forever)this writer has fascinated me with his crazy ideas about children’s life; wish I could write that way 😍 paid!sorry, Keanu; many not even in my kindness list 😘 you’re not my guide, just a man that has charmed me with your kindness & bearded face 😂 finished reading in the bookstore
Kinokuniya SG – calm Saturday afternoon after Japanese class with Honda Sensei
Got lost, Beloved, Standing in a night-market Seeing all the cheers—
—-
found this this morning in Changi Airport.I know enough ☺️ thank you! 😘how strong is my root?but not in front of those labelling themselves with high price – too high, this life is too humble to bathe in prideand don’t talk about love with those misunderstanding it, they will judge you the way they think what love isnice for weekendyou can treat life as you wish; just know life will return the same, only multipliedcouldn’t stop laughing and agreeinggetting lost with and in a book is like getting lost in a good place
Blessed life, Beloved, Chains of weeks with good content Closed with happy ends—
—
Weekend!
Again?
I’ve been curious how many weekends I’ve lived.
Way more than 2000!
Are there more good weekends than not so good ones? After some contemplation the answer is yes! There have been way more good weekends in my life! Thanks to laughter and clumsiness naturally blessed to me.
Hope to live thousands of more healthy weeks and commit to spend them gloriously!
If not given that long? Still enjoy! Or if given too short, negotiate! Don’t disappoint this human being, God. 😶
Love at the first sight To what’s captured by senses And stays in the heart—
—
One beloved person called me asking why I didn’t attend a nephew’s wedding party yesterday. I said I couldn’t as I’ve been physically “beaten up” because of an accident recently. After what happened, sorry and better be careful, don’t go biking at night, wear the right shoes; she started ranting….
“What are you looking for in life? Look at your nephews and nieces getting married one by one. They wish their best wishes for you but you don’t seem to care. You’d better find one man and get married and they will attend your wedding party with all love and gifts.”
“Not my priority”, I said.
“What is your priority? Your work? Your dream? What?”
It is sometimes annoying to be a single woman in a society in which marriage is highly appreciated and considered as highway to happiness. I feel so lucky for living overseas away from those caring so much about me so I can enjoy my life the way I love to. Many of my single girl friends call me now and then telling me how tiring it is to answer the same questions again and again even when they don’t seem to have problems for not getting married. We are mentally and financially stable. 😁
“Ok, tell me I’ll find one. I know you won’t want one like your last. Tell me.”
“Sexually straight and not abusive in any way possible.”
“That’s easy! It is just you so difficult! Sometimes you just have to give up your priority or your love. I got married without love and it goes well. Many of us do and it goes well. Know that we worry about you.”
Alamak….
Weekend still goes well. And I’m happily looking forward to another week.
Life is a mystery, and so is love. I love my life and I don’t worry. 🥰
She is all children Playing, pushing the limits Before time for home.
—-
Adults at home often reprimanded young me for going home late missing timely afternoon bath or going home dirty playing in the river or paddy field. As a child I was confused why adults didn’t like playing; worse is they tried stopping me from having fun, while we children didn’t even do any harm when playing.
Reading a message from someone “Stay safe. Enjoy life.”, there is optimism that life is still playful even among those working crazily hard although level and perception about enjoyment differs from person to person based on whatever limit the prefer to use: culture, law, moral values, religion, contracted ethics conduct, etc. Mine is still the same: traveling along the river and going home late minus mud (sometimes at the bike wheels) and adults’ criticism.
Weekend is always refreshing. Welcome, Monday! I’ve been nice to you, please be nice to me! (transaction starts at the end of a weekend)
Salaam.
seen more black and white recently and hope to see more colour-negotiable days 💝
Married, Beloved, To your shadow that follows Wherever I go.
Divorced, Beloved, From your doubt that hunts and haunts Wherever I hide.
—-
One very long chat decorated a night. A childhood friend did sharing about what she had experienced when we were away for about 10 years, busy with our own life. This is her promise to tell the full story after giving hints and looking puzzled when meeting me.
She married thrice. First husband died of illness. Second abused and cheated her and so they divorced. Third one, this one has brought a lot of stories and enlightenment.
How she finally decided the third after the traumatic second has strengthened about my own lesson in life – acceptance. How she lets a seemingly perfect person be with her imperfect figure does add amazement about one of my loyalist. How she ignores words and stares from people disapproving her behaviours has told me she is still girl going foraging in the wild with me in our lively early age.
She hit me with some bitter comments about my complicated points. She ridiculed me for being so guarding and distant from risking broken heart to happen. She also highlighted how her love transforms to friendship that I would have not believed can happen to her – she is not a “friendship-friendly” type of person, she is a snapping turtle 😑
There are things she has regretted about all 3 decisions but the regret has brought her to a final realisation that her life has shaped her into a composed, mature woman strong yet flexible enough to be beautifully bent by the hardship of life. The pain pays off, she said. What a beautiful creature my dear friend is! 😘😘😘
This weekend has given me another package of lessons from our childhood. A blast from the past!
Weekend is still long. I’d better have more fun!
May all beings be happy! 🙏🏼
the commitment on paper needs realisation in 3 dimension reality with soul and trust – red torii in progress
Orchids’s peekaboo! They breathe, we breathe the same air. They bloom. We do, too. They show colours. We do, too. Theirs are bright. Would ours be, too?
Cut this, he said. Nope! These fruits don’t need slicing, Not for fine dining.
—-
I miss places where eating fruit is the combination of hard work and excitement. At very young age, some rascal friends and I would just pluck some fruits from the trees —our parents called it stealing and lectured us for weeks, we called it adventure— then eat them just like that. We even peeled sugarcane with our teeth like powerful fighters. 😎
I’m blessed to experience that prime time. Trust me it sounds rather uncivilised but that’s what has made my generation more humane than my niece and nephew’s generation that has to use knife to enjoy the helpless berries. 😀
Happy weekend!
🥳
hi, chef. most of those fruits won’t need knife to eat. give them to me and I’ll finish them in no time with no tool 😎
To those loving pho (Vietnamese noodles) esp. Ho Chi Minh City style this herb is not something new. This herb gives unique strong flavor of herb in the pho broth. Some people say it is a replacement of cilantro (coriander leaves) but to me this herb can only replace cilantro in South East Asian food —at least in my limited knowledge and culinary experience. This herb is not the best in Western food which is mostly tasteless oops I mean bland…. Sorry, I don’t mean to. People won’t like their pancake or even sandwich with culantro. 😎
I bought it every time I traveled to Vietnam before pandemic and found it in a plant store around Ang Mo Kio yesterday. Good for the view. Good for noodle bowl. Good for the mood. 💚
when it’s finally found here! 🥰Vietnamese call it ngo gai, Western call it culantro, we Javanese call it ketumbar Jawa (Javanese coriander) – perennially grown everywhere behind our grandparents’ home 💝where our ancestors started their humble legend, among lush greenery ❣️ culantro, pepper, vanilla orchid, herbs, etc, and so on can be found there
Sometimes I’m somebody At a conference room Where win-win Isn’t always a solution. Powerful— Decisive—
Sometimes I’m anybody When long lost friends Suddenly say hi and cry “Would you please help? Would you help?” Unconditional— Used—
Sometimes I’m everybody When I blindly devote myself, When I wholeheartedly do everything needed, When I run around everywhere to find you. Preoccupied— Stand-alone—
Sometimes I’m nobody When I feel my heart beats, My breath slows down with calmness, When I know nobody is with me. Blissful— Submissive—
Thanks, my body. You’re a complete gift to me.
I dedicate the above free verse to Emily Dickinson who has touched my life with many of her poems especially “I’m Nobody! Who are you?”
🐣
Salaam.
this poem was introduced by Ibu Siti Parwati Soemarto, our lecturer who always challenged her students to bravely see who we truly are – 28 years ago! damn I’m an old nobody! how bitterly fair life is! Terima kasih, Ibu Soemarto. 💝
Good time, Beloved, Sitting silently, centred. Grazing on the time—
—-
Life is never bored of reciting how grand a name when zoomed in and how tiny its reality when zoomed out. Oh! It is the other way around, tiny when zoomed in and grand when zoomed out.
don’t disturb, she’s enjoying her good time as if she’s real – is she?
What is your name, dear? Deer!
what is an animal as sturdy and cold as metal? this! is it real?
Are you a buck or a stag? You don’t look like one. Or, you look like both?
Go jazz, Beloved Improvise on your own path Where hidden seeds grow.
—-
Jazz is like secret love, confusing and almost unknown at the first catch but wrapped in harmony through time… and space? Seems space never takes my side. 😎
Jazz each day up!
⭐️
Java Jazz is on – wish I were it 🎷🎺to a secret love across the ocean ⭐️
rike jokanan 
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