A story of zhenzhu nai cha

It was a Friday.

My niece called as I was about to call it a night, feeling tired and with back pains. She said she wanted to drop by my house to give me something. A while later there was a knock at the door. As I opened it there she was standing outside holding a small plastic bag containing a cup of pearl milk tea. Turned out she had gone out earlier with friends for a `yum cha session’ and on her way back after giving her friend a lift decided to turn to my place to give me this `takeaway’.

I must admit, I felt a little touched by this.

So on that quiet night, I sipped through the straw of the cup of iced Pearl milk tea, alone, but not lonely, with a warm and fuzzy feeling inside, comforting myself that all would be well and despite at times dealing with insecurity issues and feeling like a tiny speck of dust amidst this vast humanity, somewhere, somehow, I was remembered….

Not sober

Many years ago, while having a bowl of fish noodle in a kopitiam in Jalan Gaya, a man caught my eyes, and I wrote down my thoughts of him, in a little note book.

On a Sunday afternoon,
what is on your mind, I wonder?
I see five big empty bottles of beer on a coffee table,
Where you sit by, with a companion,
at a corner of a local coffee shop…

The ceiling fan’s spinning furiously,
But it seems to me you have sank back into total oblivion,
perhaps the smooth operations of your senses have been obliterated by the flow of liquor from your mouth, to every direction in your veins?

You are immersed in your own little space,
I initially thought that the glow in your eyes equates a certain vigilance,
but it turns out to be simply inebriated stares,
hidden behind are perhaps a feeling of desperation and hopelessness,
and you are trying to numb these feelings by emptying bottle upon bottle of liquor,
as I can see .

You stare blankly at the noisy crowd, meandering souls around you,
but I don’t think you really feel their existence,
because you have been entirely hypnotized by the very presence of liquor,
which has acquired an undisputed dominion over the space in your life for now…

But you seem happy and calm.
But I figure its just this game of illusion manifesting itself,
by influencing your subconscious mind into translating these expressions,
on your outer skin…

You don’t care about what others think of you,
even I myself have formed this judgment about you,
oh how I shouldn’t.
You think it’s sweet,
on your part, this perceived divine intoxication of the mind body and soul.

I have finished my noodles,
Another empty bottle is added to the table,
I think its going to be an extended session,
You have fallen deep in your drunken slumber,
I wonder, when tomorrow comes,
When the traces of alcohol slowly diminish,
will you again regain sobriety,
to face the day with renewed hope and promises?

I am leaving now,
I have only these few hours left,
tomorrow’s another working week,
I desperately crave a good rest,
There’s certainly no room for drinking session like this,
even if I so wish.

Do have a good time while you are at it.
Its funny though,
my observation of you,
have brought about a lingering emptiness, in me…..
you have slowly and moderately drunk the life out of this bitter liquid,
like a lost and inebriated soul you are,
Yet it’s ain’t poetry…

Feeding pigeons

A few pigeons wander around my balcony early morning while I get myself busy cooking lunch for work, producing melodiously captivating cooing sounds as if to remind me to hurry up. They do it for a reason. I have been feeding these birds with cracked corn feed for quite some time on the balcony of my first-floor apartment. Initially there were only two or three pigeons linger about the space with the frequent presence of sparrows and other small birds. But I eventually had to stop feeding on the advice of a friend as the bird droppings had caused pretty much an eyesore, and unhygienic, plus the fact I did not have time to clean it out every day, yet this did not deter the birds from coming back each morning, waiting faithfully in anticipation for their feed. I felt pity for them and I just didn’t have the heart to turn them down.

So what was only a casual act to ensure the few hungry birds get some food, has now been transformed into a small mission on my part to routinely spread the feed on the ground near the parking area of my apartment block, every morning before I drive to work. But the spreading of the cracked corn has somehow managed to attract the keen eyes of their peers hence it’s now grown into a frock of twenty and sometimes thirty and more pigeons, which can be seen every morning perching precariously on the roof tops and window panes of my neighbors’ apartments, waiting patiently for the time to fly down to the ground the moment I distant myself from the feeding zone.

I do question myself sometimes if my act of habitually feeding this frock of pigeons and other little birds would make them more dependent of easily available feed, in the process depriving them from using their natural instinct to search for food? In some countries for instant there are signs placed in the parks to advise visitors not to feed the birds for fear that they might eventually lose their abilities to fend for themselves especially during winter times where very few people will venture out to feed them.

But I told myself our country is blessed with moderate climate. If one day I stop feeding these birds I do believe someone else will.

So now cracked corn feed is a must- buy item in my sundry shopping list.

But it is also heart warming for me to think that this little act of giving has helped add a little sparkle and shine to my otherwise monotonous daily routines.

And every morning if time permits, I will watch from a distance at these little birds contentedly feasting on their treats, it somehow soothes and induces a feeling of calm in me.

I guess it must be due to this sense of contentment from within, knowing that I am able to give, however little,
and from this at times neglected fact that we receive much more than we give.

The very source of nourishment to our soul..