"Papa, who was once a hot-tempered man that had high expectations on his sons, would sometimes lost control and beat us with a stick, but Mummy would always shove us behind her, forcing Papa to stop. “They are just children,” Mummy would say to Papa and calm him down."
5 days. Just 5 days more. Not long, not short. A special day.
Before you knew it, autumn has come. Silently. Creeping around the city of Adelaide on tiptoes without even making a sound. Days got shorter and shorter by each day. The green juicy leaves on the deciduous trees started to change to reddish brown. Maple leaves turned bright red. When I was a small kid, my teacher once told me that the trees were getting ready for winter. “Prepare to prepare to be prepared,” Maybe that’s what little Estha meant in The God of Small Things. Dropping temperature. Falling leaves. Cold winds. Crisp air. Occasional drizzle. Chilled nights. The colour of harmony. "Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting and autumn a mosaic of them all," the immortal words of Stanley Horowitz suddenly flashed across my mind. No more ads on the “Slip-Slop-Slap” campaign. However, slipping on a jacket was indeed necessary.
I was sitting in the bus on my way home. I glanced at the time shown on my cell phone. Technically, it’s Alvin’s. It showed 1:25p.m. It was 11.55a.m in Malaysia. Mummy was still probably having her breakfast. Don’t get me wrong. She does not wake up late. She won’t have her breakfast until she has done all the things that she needs to do every day. Her daily routine:
Water the plants that she likes so much. She told me that plants bring some lives into the house and freshen the air.
Put all the clothes into the washing machine. Although we have two maids (1 left now as her contract has ended.), Mummy always insists that instead of relying on the others, she prefers to get things done by her way and by herself.
Help Papa to watch the shop while he is having his breakfast.
Make the phone calls to order the stocks that replenish in the wink of an eye.
Fill out some “Lucky Draw Contest” forms. I don’t believe in these things as I am always sort of a grounded person. But Mummy always proves me wrong by winning several prizes ranging from mini-sized speaker to pc, from dvd player to plasma TV. She always dreams of winning a new car to impress my grandpa, winning a big new house for us to live in, or winning lots and lots of money for us.
You see, everything is for Her husband, Her father-in-law, Her mother-in-law, Her children, Her nephew, Her nieces, but never for Herself. Sometimes I wonder why and how she can be so selfless.
Mummy comes from humble beginnings. Home to her and her siblings was a humble abode. She had to help her parents to sell vegetables in the market, see to the household chores, rush to her part-time job at her uncle’s pharmacy and study at the same time. She was looked after by her uncle as her parents could not support all of the siblings at the same time. She passed her exams with average scores but could not enter the college or university due to the lack of money. Her part-time job later became her full-time job. Later, she came to Alor Star, met Papa and got married. My grandparents did not like her much initially. They sort of believed that The Rich should marry The Rich, like my uncle and aunt did. The Love Laws that have been laid down several centuries ago, where you will be Loved More if you are rich, where you will be Loved Less if otherwise. A typical woman, a not highly educated daughter-in-law, nothing to be proud of in the views of my grandparents. Despite that, Mummy tried her very best to be a filial daughter-in-law. She knew clearly that she did not meet the expectations of my grandparents, but she proved them wrong by being a diligent housewife, a loyal wife, a filial daughter-in-law, a caring mother and a later a successful businesswoman, which make my grandparents gradually change their thoughts and judgements for her.
After finishing her work at the shop, she would tidy up the house together with the maids. “Iron Lady,” that’s what Alvin’s mum called her. Despite the debilitating schedule, she does not care less about us. Loved Less, but never Love or Care Less. When I was a little kid, she always taught me how to do my homework. Whenever we couldn’t finish our homework, she would be more worry than us. When I was in standard two, I got beaten by the teacher every day because of my illegible handwritings. I tried to improve my writings, but I couldn’t. When Mummy knew this, she went to the school immediately and talked to the teacher. She never scolded, shouted, or yelled at us whenever we didn’t know how to do our homework. Papa, who was once a hot-tempered man that had high expectations on his sons, would sometimes lost control and beat us with a stick, but Mummy would always shove us behind her, forcing Papa to stop. “They are just children,” Mummy would say to Papa and calm him down.
Mummy would always come into our room in the middle of the night and tucked us in. So, we never feel weird if we wake up and find ourselves covered in blankets. Before I came to Adelaide, it’s Her that packed my luggage for me, it’s Her that reminded me to take care of myself when no one is there for me, it’s Her that waited at home when I was hanging out with my friends, it’s Her that secretly gave me some extra cash, it’s Her that bought the presents for my homestay family. The day before I flew, she told me not to cry when we were at the airport as it would make everyone feel sad. However, she secretly prepared a whole bunch of tissue papers. She shed her tears only when I had left and entered the waiting lounge. She stroke my hair on the way to the airport and kept telling me that she did not care enough for me as there are so many siblings to take care of and I am the eldest. As far as I’m concerned, she did. She Does. Even now in Adelaide, every time she calls, she would ask me not to put pressure on myself, but to be happy always. She believes that happiness is the most important thing in this world and she told me that’s what my third name means.
Life is a constant uphill struggle for Mummy, yet she faces her trials and tribulations with determination. She always tells me that the more the others wish for you to fail, the more you need to get up and prove them wrong. She gives so much, loves so much. She teaches me the importance of friendship and family and love. Her optimism and cheerfulness are the most amazing and wonderful things that I’ve ever seen. She is the source of inspiration, a pillar of strength and a true guiding light to us.
I got off the bus and walked towards my House. House, not Home.
The autumn breeze.
The paths hidden by the fallen golden-yellow leaves.
The smell of May.
The unconditional love of a mum.
A bouquet of carnation in a tiny heart.
A son far away from home.
Mummy, I love you. Happy Mother’s Day.
