The Art of Persuasion

Make eye contact from afar. Strut modestly. Stand close. Keep paws off for now. Be quiet. Just blink. Persevere for a few minutes. Look up. Make eye contact again. Enlarge pupils (practice makes perfect). Mew gently. Blink blink. Expect to hear “awhh.” There it is. Don't get excited just yet. Remain modest. Wait for it. Look out for that hand. A signal. Now go. Get fur stroked. Raise chin to be scratched. Remember to purr. Enjoy this. Give a friendly bite. Be gentle always. Hear more “awhhs”. Close enough. See that piece of fish now. Stay on the fish. Stray from looking too eager. Eye on the fish. Don't jump. Gravity will pull the fish. There. Savor it. Nothing else tastes better. Leave the bones behind. Lick paws. Walk away.

I learnt a lot from this cat today.

Cloudy with a Chance of Lightness

The clouds appeared grim today and the skies seemed about to open up. But then I noticed light streaming through the vapors. Such beauty was remarkable. I reckon cloud watching as the best “music” to unwind to.

Kitchen Love

At seventy-five, my grandma is still a one fine trouper. Today I caught her scrubbing and arranging in my ma’s kitchen. When I offered help, she testily refused and said she could manage (such a “grandmother” thing to do). I just stood in the kitchen, admiring her labor. The space was spick and span. Every single jar, bottle, plate and shaker was in order. And we all had grandma to thank for, as she did all that out of love (and perhaps, out of a little ennui too).

The Umbrellas of PJ

Today I'm just glad that I reached home in time before the rain fell. The rest of the world held up their colorful umbrellas and marched on.

My Grandmother's Antic

My grandma has been staying at my ma's place for the past couple of weeks. She lives in Johore, but she often takes a train ride to Kuala Lumpur so that she could visit us. I’ve been visiting her at home every weekend, and her presence has brought more jouissance in the house. We just love watching her dramatizing each memory that she recollects from her distant past (she’s a natural thespian). She also tends the garden very well, and insists upon cooking every single meal for us. I’m grateful for every moment I get to see her and listen to her stories.

Hoard Station

I'm grateful to have found all those readings as prescribed by my professors in graduate school. I'm in dire need of texts by Braudillard, Barthes, Bordieu, Benjamin, Freud, Jameson, Sontag and...well, I could go on forever. They're what I need to prepare for another trip to the ivory tower soon.

PS I found this poem, an abcedarian, that I wrote in my college poetry workshop. This makes no sense today but it sure rolls nicely on the tongue when recited. Try it.

Ég Elska Hann

My half visited me at home this morning in a trench coat. He reminds me of Lloyd Dobler from Say Anything, minus the boombox. He's the kind that would make sure you don't step on any broken glass. And the best part? My Lloyd is far from fictional.