Dowry...

...suddenly I'm thinking about the concept of dowry among some cultures like mine. Perhaps in this modern world, it is a much misunderstood concept. In my culture nowadays, at least to my limited observation, daughters try so hard to discourage their parents from receiving dowry from their future husbands. Well, admittedly when I was getting married, I did have some uneasy feeling about my parents asking for dowry from my husband-to-be. It's like you are 'being sold'...sort of. Thankfully my parents didn't ask for money, rather a traditional token as a symbolic respect for the long-observed tradition.

I've heard of people setting the amount of dowry based on the educational achievement of the daughter. I don't actually know how far true that is. It could be just an urban legend. That would imply that a daughter who completed a degree would gain a higher amount of dowry compared to a high-school graduate. Hmm...maybe this is when dowry equates to 'selling off one's daughter'?...Or are there some underlying reasonings that I failed to see?

Recently I had the pleasure of witnessing a traditional engagement ceremony, and I learnt a new meaning of the word 'dowry'. In that ceremony the parents of the bride-to-be refused or rather tried to refuse a dowry offering. But it was denied by the village headman. The groom-to-be family explained that 'dowry' is a much-honored tradition among the people because it signifies the man's appreciation to the lady he is intending to marry. Now that is beautiful. All my prior prejudices about dowry were lifted...thank goodness. Perhaps when the time comes for me to marry off my daughters, I won't hesitate to continue upholding the dowry tradition anymore...

Well, interpreted correctly, traditions can be beautiful.

When a music comforts...

I'll listen with my heart. I won't even care if it is religious or non-religious in nature. Like this one here, it is called Medicine Buddha Mantra. I'm not even a Buddhist, but the heart recognizes universal virtues, I guess. It soothes my tired mind and body. It gives me peace, just like when I sing praise and worship songs and hymns...Music belongs to the heart that responds...

Back to life, back to reality...

Two weeks at home managed to spoil me a bit. Albeit having to do a lot of things, I've enjoyed the short stay. Meeting up with friends, spending time with family, and of course satisfying the taste bud with local delicacies were just wonderful. Regretfully (although perhaps a good thing), I was watching my calorie intake so I could only have a small amount of everything (at least most of the time...I did cheat once or twice).

The strict exercise regime was distrupted...the house cleaning ups and shopping for hours could hardly be counted as real exercise. As a result, yours truly didn't shed any kgs during the two weeks. Oops, scary, the weight police is watching. Have to double up efforts from now on. The season being winter doesn't help either...one feels hungry all the time...

I'm glad to be back with the family...back to being a mom, a wife, a student, and my reality for the time being. Yups, got a thesis to finish writing...time is running short. Hopefully I get things done on time.

Of Joy and Grief

Saturday 30th May 2009. It was my cousin's wedding reception day. We were welcoming the bride and her family into the big, happy family with some kind of traditional wedding rituals and merry-making. Started off the day fine- the night before we started the preparations; flowers, backdrops, cooking ingredients etc. It was a night when all extended family members happily forgo sleep to prepare for the big day the next day. A night of catching up with cousins and relatives over a cup of tea, baileys and a can or two of beer. Oh, how we all had fun...

The next day we were busy cooking and preparing a few final details before the bride's family finally arrived, all the way from the neighbouring state. Well, not quite. They camped in the local holiday house/retreat house actually since two days before but only to be formally accepted in the family on that big day. So the ceremony started. Everyone was in a celebrating mood...then grief came very unexpectedly.

My cousin got the news from a friend. Her best friend, 16 (a week short of turning 17), along with two younger sisters aged 14 and 8 had drowned. At that time we didn't know exactly what happened, how that happened. The mood suddenly changed...a teardrop of my cousin and we all started feeling the pain. My older cousin took my cousin, my younger brother and two other cousins to visit the friend's mourning household. It was most difficult for us to maintain the celebration mood. We tried because it was the right thing to do. We danced and we sang, and yet our hearts were grieving for three young souls whose short existence were snapped off cruelly to the human understanding.

When my cousins returned from visiting the grieving household, we were told the story amidst tears. The girls' family had a picnic by the river. No one realized that they were gone. One moment they were frolicking by the river bank. The next moment they were all found lifeless, two at the bottom of the river, one adrift nearby. Their mom who's at a late stage of pregnancy was unconsolable. Three girls were taken away from her all at once, without even a final good bye. My heart goes out to my cousin who lost a best friend, but also to the parents who lost three lovely daughters...No words could possibly express the pain they felt, and still do. I offered up a little prayer for the souls, rest in peace. And the family- may they be strong to face the difficult time. And my sweet cousin- a young heart is broken into pieces but God will surely heal her in time. May she be strong enough to accept this thing that is beyond anyone's control.

At a spur of the moment, joy turned to grief...I wonder if ever grief turns to joy as fast? God bless the little souls. Please God strenghten the grieving hearts especially the family who lost their lovely ones.

Dealing with wound (2)

The prodigal father is coming back. After 10 years. He didn't even bother to ask about his two sons before, let alone send them money. Well to be fair, maybe he did send some money for a few months. But that was it. He didn't initiate any contact with them. No words to let them know he cares. Now he is coming back, believing he is a changed man. Yup, he is a changed man judging from his speech- it was all tinted with strange twangs and accents...but other than that, I don't know what else has changed.

He is upsetting the applecart. The two sons are already comfortable living their lives without him. Now he is stirring old painful memories, opening up old wounds. Why oh why does he have to do that?

The humane side of me says it might be a necessary step to complete healing for the sons. Maybe facing him again will give them a new perspective and help them to forgive. Maybe it will give them a chance to express their long supressed emotions...

I have no right to judge the prodigal father. He might be a product of some kind of childhood abuse himself, to have caused him do what he did. But as a human being, as someone who cares deeply for the two sons, I wish he could just stay where he is...There were times in the past I wished that he was dead. I don't wish any harm on him anymore but deep down, I still can't accept what he did and what he is intending to do...

Dealing with wound (1)

My heart bleeds for two people that I care deeply about. When they were really young, they were victims of physical and emotional abuse from a person that they vaguely remember as their father. The younger of the two doesn't remember much. The only thing that puzzles him is why he gets a cold feet when looking at knives. He asked me tonight what happened that made him that way. Fighting tears, I told him truthfully that the person they once called Dad once too often threatened them-he, his brother, and his mother with knives. Threatened to hurt them, or even to kill them. He finally understood why and opened up- he told me how his brother told him what he remembers. Only bad memories of being beaten up and shouted at and nothing much. The younger one finally understood that his parents split for a reason that was a matter of life and death.

The brother doesn't express his feelings at all. He avoids talking and going out as much as he can. The computer is his consolation. He prefers that to socializing. He seems to want to shut everyone out which is really painful. I wish he would talk, and let go. But how do you make a 15 year old open up? He is a sensitive person, a good person basically, but a very wounded one. His surface appearance is very misleading. He looks happy and normal, and his good looks does him good. But I can feel that deep down he is a mess. How I want to pull him out of that mess. How I want to see him laugh without reservation. How I want him to be happy like he deserves to.

Home sweet home

After over a year of being away, I'm home again for a short while. Home sweet home is tucked away somewhere at the foot of the mountain, maybe not quite but close. The air is fresh and the only sounds you hear are from nature; birds, crickets and rain. Ocassionally, my nephews do turn on their computers a wee bit too loud but mostly they just close the door of the computer room and keep the modern sound in there...

Here there's no traffic during rush hours, no bad drivers honking impatiently when you are a bit slow on the road. Just this afternoon when my aunt and I decided to walk back the 3 miles home from somebody's house instead of waiting for my Dad to pick us up, somebody we know who lives out of the way offered us a ride and wouldn't accept 'no' for an answer. Business opens more or less according to your need. You need a hair wash at 8.30 am or 5.35 pm, you get it, even if the sign states 'open 9.00 am - 5.30pm'. Everyone is just too happy to be of service to you.

Of course there are some minuses. Some people just don't have the sense of aesthestic they have uncollected rubbish at their vicinity all the time. Or they are too leisurely they couldn't be bothered to cut down the branches of overgrown trees and grass in their yards. Or they have too many animals walking about the road in front of their houses one feels nervous to pass by.

But overall, home is sweet home. It feels good to sit outside somebody's house listening to harmless gossips and bankerings...having a cuppa any time of the day, plucking fresh papayas from the tree in front of the house, and simply relaxing.