This is when I met Kat’s new baby boy.
I think the pictures are self-explanatory.
Does he look like someone when she was a wee lil cutie?
I love you dear girl.
We’ll have him honking at random cab drivers, listening to heavy duty rock muzak
and smoking kretek in no time. Just kidding Kenny.
Sorry to be so obvious, but yes, it’s the last day of the year.
I am not supposed to be online, but something in me feels I should just write
something for today. I don’t have my fancy pictures etc today, so I’m just
going to let it rip and hope it does not end up as verbal diarrhoea.
I did not want to have another usual New Year’s eve. I think I have had
enough partying in my life and moments of drunkeness whereby I inevitably
become entertainment for my friends and end up becoming a character
from the Fight Club. I didn’t want to just wake up the next morning in all
too familiar circumstances, thinking ‘Oh yeah. This again.’
It’s not the usual refrain of ‘Oh i’m getting older, cannot do this etc’…
because in all honesty, I’ll probably be drinking it up in Penang tonight!
But … it will be different. I will be waking up going
‘Ah…this is different.’
.
Yes, I am in Penang. With one of my dearest friends alive. She had
always told me to come stay with her for a bit, and the pathetic reply
to that recently had been a ONE NIGHT stay sometime in June/July.
How rude. LOL.
Well now I’m here, and we have had our brilliant conversations as usual.
I booked two nights stay at G Hotel simply because I wanted, after a hectic
period of work recently, to just get away. To feel like I lived in a hotel for a
while, near a pool and spa! Yes, I’m shallow like that.
Kat came to join me for pool time and chill time in the hotel, which I
really like and will probably use again and again. The fact that it’s right
next to the mall is excellent, because I walked around all relaxed and even
caught Avatar 3D again by myself. And Kat tells me we are going to
watch the movie again tmrw. I’m so game for that, I don’t know why.
I think I’m trying to dissect that movie bit by bit to see why it works.
But yes, I think the highlight, as always, are the chats I have with Kat.
.
During our first dinner here we launched into this long conversation
about the nature of our families and why we feel so blessed to be
able to learn about them more, to be aware of our own flaws
and theirs, to have a better appreciation of why we have turned out
the way we have.
Other topics that have gotten us all wide eyed and excited are our own
little excursions into becoming more environmentally-friendly in our
lives, and our relationships, friends, careers …
We spent over and hour the night before just circling town in her car,
having an almost academic discussion into Lauryn Hill’s ‘MTV Unplugged’
sessions and her music and life … our er “theories” were so interesting I
think that deserves a separate posting heh.
.
I swear if there was some quiz about what I do day-to-day, or what
I’ve done lately etc, Kat would kalah in the quiz…but if it was about
what I would do in situations or how I would react or feel, she would win
hands down, she’d probably beat everyone else, really.
She also reminded me about how crazy I have become with work and
the Internet, and how important it is to keep your distance from all that.
I mean, I know of people who say they are hippies, but they
can’t even get to the originality of Kat’s hippie-ness. And she doesn’t
need to dress or act “hippie”, if you know what I mean – it’s in her
attitude and being .. its very earthy but totally unpretentiously so.
She told me to becareful or one day I would be the type who will get
so frustrated with everything I’d escape to some jungle somewhere
and shut myself off from the world forever or something.
Hmm. “Yeah, you would just completely go the opposite way, I tell you”,
after eyeballing me once I told her how my life had become
Internet/Twitter/Wordpress/News/Magazines/Everything-dependent.
She wasn’t too impressed. I wasn’t too impressed with myself either.
Felt like the nerd nerds makes fun of when I told her all this.
And then as if fated, my phone died and once I went to her house,
I couldn’t connect my laptop to her Internet connection. So now I’m
using their ‘dinosaur’ system, as they call it … and
have less of an inclination to be connected. But yes, one last writing
release before 2010, I suppose.
.
.
Kat’s now making final calls about our night on Penang Hill tonight
to usher in the new year.
And now we’re making plans for going into town, Kat & I are on the
hunt for some goodies in antique shops.
Have a brilliant 2010 folks!
What did 2009 mean to you?
I learned a lot this year – that I like new challenges, that I can work
harder than I’ve ever envisioned. And that I love it.
But I know I still have fears.
And some things still remain though… like China, like love, like trying to
be the person I think, I know I can be. That I want to exceed my
expectations of myself.
Perhaps 2010 will be that year.
That I exceed my own expectations, and people’s expectations of me.
That’s so .. Invictus, innit? But it’s true. May we all be less dependent
on the things that don’t matter so much – the drinks, the partying, the
socialising .. the sheer vanity, oneupmanship, keeping up
with the Joneses ..the twittering, the FUCK YOUR LIFE, LOOK AT
MINE!!!, the I-make-more-money than-you-ness.
.
That’s why I’m glad to be here. Kat reminds me of the girl I am, the
one I used to be in college.
And now she’s telling me OKAY COME ON LAYCH LET’S GO NOW.
And so I go!
Goodbye folks, have a good one!
xoxo
[This is a continuation from Kat Tales – To Dance, Perchance to Dream .. ]
Just a few left before Kat Tales comes to a close. I know it’s been
stretched but I think I prefer it that way. Otherwise it’s be just too
stressful for me to detail all it one go, and the way I’d like.
Anyway.
Kat finished her dance practice. At certain times I felt
like I was on drugs or sleepwalking because of the lack
of sleep. And then the Gostan Forward crew came into
the Black Box. I had not met Mark for a while, probably
7 long years, so it was good to see him.
After a bit of chit-chat I disappeared into the shadows so
they could do their work, didn’t want to disturb anyone.
I loved the idea of Mark’s 5Arts & Kat’s Ombak Ombak
coming together for a play. The KL-Penang connection.
The arts. Freaking brilliant.
Marion D’Cruz came in so serenely, and almost as if
she gliding in. She began to prep herself, lying down,
humming, stretching, singing, walking about. I like
to watch people who have that inner zen in them,
it’s very relaxing and inspiring to watch.
After a while, and after all of them had gotten lighting and
other things sorted out, it was lunch time.
Under this gorgeous old tree on the USM campus.
Ombak’s Ban Siang had prepared lunch for us,
and the spread was most wonderful. We sat on mats,
to eat and chat.
5Arts’ rather cheeky and eccentric Roger was quite the joker,
doing the buddha pose under said tree. I had to stop myself
from laughing every time I glanced at the fidgety lad because he would
always be doing something funny or weird or the other.
After a lovely lunch comes a lovely …. Thank You Ceremony!
Inspired by erm, other official events, both sides resorted
to shake-hand-and-pose behaviour, complete with
cheesy grins and cenderamata (souvenirs)!
Look at that tree! One of the reasons why I love Penang …
those trees. They are manna for the eyes.
Yeah okay, so I wasn’t joking about the cheesy smiles and poses,
alright.
After lunch, the crew got right back to work, preparing inside
and out for the performance. As Marion and Anne continued
to prep themselves inside, others got ready for the arrivals.
I was so tired, but excited to watch the show. And so
later I took my place inside in *ahem* a special area.
Right in front and beside the projector, haha, where the view
was good.
Many students had come. This was good.
And so with much flurry, and as the crowd settled in …
it was time to begin.
You could perhaps see the collective mind bubble
coming from the students … ‘what is Gostan Forward?’
[To be continued ... in Kat Tales]
This is a continuation from [Kat Tales - A Special Black Box ] …
I quietly sit down to watch my friend.
I take pictures.
She’s in her own world. There is no music.
Her long limbs stretch out, sometimes in a slow and gentle
cadence, sometimes leaping in frenetic bursts.
She’s a joy to behold, and I find myself honoured
to be allowed to watch. I don’t think I would have done
so well if someone were behind me, watching me write.
I find out later those weren’t even prepared steps or
moves, she was just trying out ideas in her head.
I find myself admiring dancers even more.
The dance ignoramus that I am, I ask her sometime later:
“You mean, I could just make up a sentence, a concept or a story,
and you could think up a whole dance to it? Anything?”
“Well, yes.”
“Like….if I were to describe…errrrr…a building, you could
dance to that, create a sequence?”
“I suppose… Yes.”
Cue me going Wow in my head, imagining all sorts
of moves I could never execute without looking
like I was stepping on coals… or like I was.. Urkel.
Somehow after all that,
I got the distinct feeling that dancers may be the
most ‘free’ of those in the arts.
But perhaps that’s just me.
I tend to get rather emotional with art, paintings etc,
and I read too much into poetry and lyrics in songs sometimes.
But with dance, I just am constantly in awe
of how people use their bodies.
It’s right there, in your face, artist as the work of art.
I’m always hopeful when I see people dance.
Yes, from abstract, to Swan Lake, from line dancing (LOL)
to street hip-hop, and from bekside boys choreography
to salsa, I’m always hopeful
when there’s a dance
to be had.
[To be continued ... in Kat Tales ..]
[This is a continuation from Kat Tales - Breakfast & Updates ..]
In Penang, 26-27th July 2009
. . .
It was around 11-ish in the morning still,
and the show was still hours away.
Kat said we were going to the theatre anyway
because she would be in another dance
performance soon and wanted to try some
ideas in the space. “Sorry you’ll have to just bear
with me lah,” she said.
I told her, in no uncertain terms, to shut up lah and
stop saying sorry because I was memang there to spend time with her.
We entered the USM compound, all lovely and very residential looking
compared to other university campuses.
Most university campuses I’ve been to mostly look
a little cold and detached as a whole, the buildings all separated from each other,
looking rather unwelcoming.
It’s like the collection of buildings
operate as strangers awkwardly holding hands, rather than
beckoning students with warmth and synergy.
The USM campus’ biggest plus?
It has these lovely giant trees,
with massive surfacing roots outstretched,
trunks thick and knobbly, and with voluminous
crowns of branches and leaves that lace the sun.
The type of trees that beg to be stared at and touched.
But more of that later.
Kat introduces me to Panggung Sasaran.
She described it earlier to me as historic, the first black box theatre in the country.
I had imagined this old beautiful theatre,
with stained walls, bricks or aged wood,
but this was not the vision that greeted me when we stepped
out of the car.
I saw the words ‘Panggung Sasaran’ spelled out on this curious
white little building trying desperately to look like a
piece of ancient Europe.
Truth be told, I looked at it, with its white Greco Roman columns
and vented front portion, and thought to myself “Err…this is it?”
I was to find out later that many were displeased
by the Panggung’s ‘new’ exterior look.
Kat & The Box
We went in and the theatre’s interior
was definitely more pleasing than its outward uniform.
It was all seductively black, brown, soft and dark inside.
As Kat readied herself to practise her dance, I went
adventuring all around the nooks and crannies of
the theatre.
According to Kat, the crew had done a little
bit of cleaning up, but the theatre was still in rather bad shape.
True enough, certain spaces in the rooms and the back areas
looked like unkempt storage areas. It was rather dusty, and one
could tell that the theatre had seen better days.
However I fell in love with some of its oddities — pieces of
cellotape which stuck haphazardly on the wall,
clumps of staples punched into door arches, the determined
blackness of its walls, wires and switches.
Sometimes when I travel I urge my travel mates
on with the word “Menghayati”. I think I may be a little
annoying because I repeat “Eh, have to ‘Menghayati’,
okay? Menghayaaatiiii…” And then I sit on a rock slab and
just stare or I touch a wall for ages.
Certain places are wonderful for that.
Like the ruins of Ephesus in Turkey,
or the walls of St Peter’s Basilica in Rome.
But a place like Panggung can just be as wonderful
to Menghayati. Its walls, its scratched wooden floors, its
messy ensemble of ceiling lights and beams, even its dirty
sinks. I was going to remove bits of rubbish from the sinks
before taking pictures, but then I realised they seem
to look rather pretty there too, somehow.
And then, just as I was about to take more pictures,
Kat starts to dance.
I pause. And smile.
And I watch.
[ To be continued in Kat Tales ... ]
[Continued from An Interlude ... ] In Penang, 26-27th July 2009
I arrived in Penang all groggy, and quite repulsed by the world.
I guess that’s what a death and no sleep will do to you.
Everyone annoyed me on the plane, out of the plane, in
the airport … even the man who was just smoking outside,
waiting for someone like I was.
And then I saw her shiny purple beauty.
There Kat was in her gorgeous Toyota Corona Liftback,
all custom zhng-ed to suit her personality.
(Zhng, or Zhhnngggg as I say it, is ‘pimped up’ in Hokkien
Ah Lien/Ah Beng-speak aka “Zhng My Ride” or “Zhng My Phone”)
I’ll tell you something, seeing one of your most favourite
friends, smiling like sunshine in a car like that is quite something
else.
As they would say, the clouds lifted.
I hopped in, we hugged and did the usual ‘Yay, you’re here!’
and went on our way.
Kat said she was sorry she had to basically drag me to
whatever she was doing today and I told her not to be silly,
I wanted to spend this weekend doing stuff she loved.
I’d be her assistant or anything she wanted, I said, I would
gladly just be her shadow.
I also wanted to record this for her as a birthday present.
the Katmobile!
Kat was producing the Penang run of the Five Arts production
‘Gostan Forward’, along with her art collective Ombak-Ombak.
Gostan Forward, a performance lecture
by Marion D’Cruz (which is directed by Mark Teh and also stars
Anne James) had had a successful run in KL, and this was
their show in the Pearl of the Orient.
She was enthusiastic about it, and I was just as enthused for her.
I had missed the show in KL, and I also know Mark, so all this
made the little trip even more meaningful.
In the car we talked about Yasmin’s death.
She was to find out through me, (since it was early in the morning
and it just happened the night before) so I detailed everything
like a little machine, already all cried out, already
tired with sadness.
She said that everything had moved so fast,
the Gostan Forward crew had just been talking about
her being admitted to hospital, and now this.
I told her I had not expected my own reaction to her death.
Kat listened sadly, the news sinking in.
I think for anyone, the news of Yasmin Ahmad
passing away needs time to sink in.
. . . . . . .
It was a nice, balmy morning, despite it all.
We first went to breakfast, which was held at a little
kopishop in Little India.
As per usual when we catch up, we spent
the first hour or so updating each other with
the latest layers of our lives.
It is always later, in the still of the nights,
that we venture into the deeper and more intense
conversations about love, life and the like.
So for now, we would talk about work, plans in the near future,
her marriage and my er, single status. Things like that.
We talked about frustrations with work, but how
we have also learned how to make the best of things,
and how we have grown in our careers.
To learn, to not dwell on the negatives, to look
forward and to see how we can benefit from what
we have been through, what we have observed,
by meeting the people we have met.
Of all my friends, I think I come out of such conversations
in the best possible ways with Kat – we tend to
zoom out and appreciate events for what they
are, and try to put them in context.
You know how some people ask you questions
without really listening to your answers, because
they are actually setting themselves up to talk
about their views on something?
She’s definitely not like that. She’s one of those friends who really
wants to know what you think, she’ll ponder about it for
a bit, and then ask the right questions. You can see it in her
eyes – she imagines herself in a similar situation, or thinking
it through, and then offer an opinion
or thought that gently pushes the conversation to another
level.
I know this all sounds rather elementary, but
I really do believe that some friends offer you conversations
that will reveal more of you to your self than you know, and give
you more mental light bulbs. Kat makes me think.
And of course, we always laugh in between serious
topics. Kelakar lah she sometimes :)
. . . . . . . . . . . .
We leave the coffeeshop, suitably armed with each other’s
latest fortunes and misfortunes, all up to date.
We leave for Panggung Sasaran, at Universiti Sains Malaysia.
You have to see this theatre, she said.
I was most happy to.
[To be continued in Kat Tales ...]
(….This is an interlude … between Kat Tales ….)
Just because this picture fits nowhere,
and just because I had another bout of insomnia last night
(I’m functioning in the opis right now with zero minutes of sleep),
and just because the next post on Kat Tales wouldn’t
kinda make sense without it …
Here is the picture I took when I was still reeling in shock
from Yasmin Ahmad’s passing.
I don’t think I’ll ever forget the moment,
because I was a blubbering baby in a bar and
I had no idea what to do with myself.
Nothingness
I had spent the whole day, at the desk, doing newsy stuff. When
you get into ‘news desk’ mode I think it becomes automatic.
You become a news automaton.
“Can we get someone to call someone to check on Yasmin please?”
“Make sure somebody calls so and so later at night to check”
“If she passes, we may need to change page this this and that.”
It’s not callousness, it’s just news desk operations.
So I was doing all that with my bosses till 8pm, 9pm, 10pm …
I was saying all those things but it never. Never. dawned on me
that it would actually happen, right?
I just really thought she would be okay.
That we were just checking.
Really thought she would be all okay.
Finally get to leave the office close to midnight
and had to go that music/dance event organised by Hennessy
at Kiara to pick something up from a friend.
Amir called, said he was banned from going into the
event because he is Muslim, (okayyy…) and asked if
I fancied joining him in Wabi.
Why not, I thought.
So I did a quick collect-and-go and then headed to Wabi.
On the way my boss called, thinking I was still at the desk,
asking “Did Yasmin pass away?”
I had been asked this question several times that day so
I just said “Well I just left the office, I don’t know, but the last
I checked she was still the same, boss.”
“Alright, I’ll check with the office then”.
And then I reached Wabi and did the usual vacant, trivial
chit-chat, the kind you make when you’re really quite
tired but you’re glad to be out of the office, nursing a
mighty fine glass of whiskey.
“I’ll be in Penang in just a few hours, yippee,” I thought,
thinking about my 7am flight.
And then I read it on my phone. And I think
something went ‘pop’ in my chest.
I completely blanked out.
And as Amir and Stanley continued chit-chatting
around me … I just sat there, shocked.
I shall cut a potentially long story short by saying
I teared up, went to toilet, came out, steadied myself,
teared up again, went to toilet, went out, came back in,
and stared into space. (Repeat this in entirety three times)
I wanted to talk to people who felt like I did but it was so late,
and people were either at that dang Hennessy event or sleeping.
I wanted to go home but then I realised I didn’t want to be alone.
Told Amir and Stanley and they went Oh dear, bad news,
but I don’t think they understood how upset I was.
So I just sat there, like a brick, for ages.
But…I don’t think I was even that much of a fan-fan?
But…I don’t even know her leh? I asked myself.
Why the hell was I so bloody upset?!
And then I thought, screw it.
I’m going to the hospital.
I’m obviously not going to make the funeral.
Of course, why didn’t I think of that, I must go to the hospital.
Said my goodbyes and just went.
By the time I reached DSH, it was too late.
The body…just left, the security guard told me.
The little crowd was still outside, lingering,
as if they couldn’t bear to leave either.
As if just being there meant being just a bit closer to
her, breathing the air that had felt her skin.
I walked out, and saw Pete, leaning against
the railing.
That skinny man just looked like he was hit by a truck.
But when I walked to him, it was he who asked me
“Are you okay?”
That was all it took, pretty much, for the waterworks
to begin as I hugged him and said “No, I’m not okay,
it’s not okay..”
It’s not okay..
…
Don’t cry, he said.
And as the crowd became smaller, people leaving one
by one, it was just him and I, sitting on the roadside,
not talking, not doing anything at all.
Soon it was just the two of us left.
That night just felt like the dreariest night
ever, even if the moon was shining
and the weather was balmy.
As we stood up to go, and we said goodbye, and I
entered my car, I watched Pete walk away.
I will never forget the way he looked, walking in the middle
of that road, his tall, lean figure slightly hunched, head cast
downward. He didn’t have to cry, his whole body
spoke of his sorrow.
On the ride back I was going through why I felt so strongly about
her death.
When you deal with politicians, journos,
public relations etc, for so long, all the time,
you become used to the fact that these are in fact
people who play the game, or who have to be
neutral, maybe even a bit unfeeling…or people
who say things but you never really know what they
truly think or feel. And you always wonder
what they are actually like, if they can be liked perhaps?
And you resign yourself to the fact, feeling a little
uncool that you are memang very emo, very cornball, very
cheesy, and that you’re gonna have to … maintain lah sikit
when it’s time for work, yes?
But here’s the thing. I never thought about it, but
Yasmin Ahmad was one of those that I admired
because she was just so blatantly herself.
I would see her movies and go ‘that’s pretty sweet’,
or see some commercials and go ‘okay that was abit
toooo saccharine..” but she wasn’t hiding any of it.
I always loved the fact that in her blog she wrote this:
I am optimistic and sentimental to the point of being annoying, especially to people who think that being cynical and cold is cool. Everyday, I thank Allah for everyday things like the ability to breathe, the ability to love, the ability to laugh, and the ability to eat and drink.
How wonderful, and how real.
I can’t even begin to say how I wish I had written those words.
And so I went home, and I wrote for her.
Cheesy mah cheesy lah, tiu! I thought.
It was so okay dealing with all these people,
knowing that hey, a person like her was
there, somewhere, sparkling and lighting things up.
Someone who really wore her heart on her sleeve.
It was okay because asalkan ada orang macam
tu, you could deal with all the other crap, kan?
And then poof.
Out of all the filth and f*cktards in this place,
the gem had to go? The gem?!
The country has HOW many sincere gems like that?
Versus all that scheming, ladderclimbing, highfalutin
hsjs@*2@h!>I!)$@h*7#’.?sQjw&8…..
Sigh.
Okay.
Breathe in.
Back to work.
Anyway, it was with this state of mind, and no hours of sleep,
that I was to hop on a plane a mere hours later…and arrive in
Penang, to see my dear friend Kat.
I felt like a zombie.
But it was so wonderful to see that smile…
(To be continued in more Kat Tales …)
Even now right, writing all this,
I think I still can’t accept it, you know.
a.r.g.h.
This is going to be the first of many parts of my birthday
present to my dear friend Kat.
Her birthday is today, and though I can’t be with her,
I can easily imagine being there with her, getting
all shades of drunk,
getting all volumes of noisy.
I didn’t know what to get her, so I decided a while
ago to combine a long-awaited trip to Penang to see her
with a show she was producing (and which I wanted to catch) -
Gostan Forward, a solo performance by Marion D’Cruz.
Since she was excited about it, I thought I’d detail the day out
as something for her to remember.
But first, a little introduction.
I’ve known Kat since 1996. We went to Taylor’s College
together.
She was this weird hippie chick who wore a bright pink
tee and glaring green long skirt on the first day.
Talk about lasting impressions.
Then she had to go and get toilet-papered
during our first assembly/ice-breaking – I still
don’t know what that was all about.
But that’s Kat for you – she’d always be sporting
and be a source of entertainment for all (We laugh WITH
you darling, Ahem)
Plus the toilet paper thing (which she was wrapped all over with)..
that was probably an indication of her artistic inclinations innit.
Art mah.
To cut a long story short, we met, it was instant lup (on my
part anyway!) and proceeded to do a lot of these:
- Cruising in cars
- Scaring poor taxi drivers (Kat)
- Singing Oasis songs and the like
- Smoking kretek in dirty stairwells (Kat)
- Getting mabuk (Wahey, we likes)
- Dancing in the middle of dance floor like mad woman
though nobody’s dancing (Kat)
- Laugh. And muse about life. And boys. Oh yes, boys.
We also proceeded to go to England after college.
Though we went to different places, we met up when we
could for music gigs in London, or just to catch up.
I don’t remember ever feeling she was very far from me.
Ever.
Sometimes I remember, she would suddenly call when I
felt like I needed to talk to someone. Or
when I was actually thinking about her.
Voodoo magic woman, she.
I want to go on further but I only spent one full Sunday and half
a Monday with her … so I’m gonna stretch it out a bit leisurely.
This was meant to be the introduction,
and was meant to say Baby/Babi Kat, Happy Birthday honey,
I love you.
PS- You didn’t think I’d forget to mention that I never got
that whole ‘I’m not washing my hair for months’ thing
did you?!
Yes, Kat believed that the hair/head’s ‘natural
oils’ cleansed her rambut, so we all had to put up with
her greasiness for a while.
Don’t worry, she wasn’t really a smelly cat.
xox
[More of Kat Tales soon ... ]
