Therapy?

Humour is good. Silence is easy. Honesty is exalted.

Three lessons in life I’ve learnt early on. Humour for easing unease, breaking the ice and laughing at yourself once in a while. Silence for when you know you’re wrong, and when you have the urge to talk bad about people because nobody’s perfect. Honesty… speaks for itself. The basis of my very existance… imprinted onto my name by my father. The virtue of kings, he would say.

My parents taught me well.

Even now I feel my life is divided into 3 stages. Before, The Purgatory, and After. Do other people’s lives also revolve around a single event? By fate, by chance, by whatever… a certain event becomes the centre of the universe and everything that happens before and after revolves around it?

This is my life, and I’m forever bound by it.

BEFORE

"Relatively perfect" was how I would describe my childehood. My first memory would be growing up upstairs of a shophouse, above my parents’ clinic, in Ipoh. Half of the house didn’t have proper roofing, and that was where we planted our flowers and cacti. When it rained I used to marvel at them dancing and swaying, on my mother’s lap, hands cupped over my ears as thunder approached. On sunny days, the sunbeams would shine through our orange curtains, creating a magnificent glow. Old faded photographs reminded me of that era. I was quietly aware that my parents were of some stature… as a lot of people would come visiting them everyday and that would keep them busy… until night came and I would return into my parents’ arms.

Schooling days came soon enough. I was enrolled into Sam Tet Primary, and was told it was quite a big deal to be such a prestigous school. Tell a 7-year-old that, he’d believe anything. Primary 1 was a distant but vivid memory of when father would comb my hair and drive me to school everyday. But not like most parents there, he would park the car, alight with me, choose a shady spot and read the textbooks with me. I often wondered if he did the same for my sister, who always left for school before I woke up.

On weekends my family would have our outings, be it a shopping mall trip or to visit relatives. Mother loved shopping, father had a curious eye and loved browsing… I inherited both of their traits. Sunday evenings would always be the time when I get nagged for still not completing my homework… if they were completed soon enough it would be TV or Lat comics for me then. Life was simple and sweet.

I did well in school. A top-ten student, teachers’ pet, winner of numerous calligrapy and speech competitions, while outside I was taking piano and art lessons. I did not appreciate all these privileges then. It’s only when you reflect that you remember how lucky you’ve been all along. This has been a testament to how much my parents liked to see me excel.

The only major turning point in my life then was post-UPSR when father asked whether I wanted to continue secondary school in Sam Tet or enrol in a private school with better facilities and opportunities overseas. I remembered two things… that if I chose the private school, I would be away from home five days a week, and that father had to pay hefty tuition fees for me there. Back then anything with more than 2 zeros sounded hefty. The short-term realist, easily-homesick me chose to stay in Sam Tet. I do think back now and again what might have happened if I went the opposite direction. My friends who went there went on to get ASEAN scholarships and are currently pursuing Masters in Singapore universities. Que sera sera.

Secondary school and I was quite the rebel. A temper flare arose around once a week… the hotheaded Arien in me manifesting to its full ugliness often in the company of family, but never in the company of friends. I made some good friends who even now I stick to… probably the achievement I value most of all that time. I grew up in the Smash Hits era… we believed anything the magazine told us from what’s good to what’s bad to which idol you should worship. Naturally I despised anything Asian at that time. No Cantonese serials or Canto-pop for me, sir, give me Take That and Spice Girls or else! The secondary school years was dominated by the entertainment pages, loitering in shopping malls after school and studying enough just to pass.

The rift grew between my parents and me, because they taught me acceptance, but I was practicing none of it. I found solace in my friends instead, and the rebellious streak stayed on. It was not easy talking to them when everything they said would be interpreted as embarrassing to you. But it was not easy, too, being bad to them… they brought me up so well I had guilt trips everytime I directed my anger towards them. Thinking back I did not know where in the world did they find the patience to tolerate my teenage years.

Of course, every phase had to end, and by the time I turned 18, studying in Form 6, it was time to mend the bridges. I learnt how to cook from mother, and driving tips from father… it was time to learn how to be independent. Mother had a fantastic ribs dish that I wanted to learn badly, and she said she’d help me out in that someday. One time I remember looking at father working on his beloved Volvo, and I asked him how he kept the thing running for 15 good years. he promised he’d teach me how. Things were back to normal again, I hoped.

"Hope, is a dangerous thing. Hope can drive a man insane." Quoted by Tim Robbins’ character in the Shawshank Redemption. My parents never held on to their promises. They never had a chance to. They were never given a choice to. On September 3, 2000, this stage of my life ended.

My life has never been the same again.