The Body Sends a Memo

Please click the photo above to play the daily videoA sunny start to the day, and the morning round went smoothly — patients sorted out in good time, the list closing neatly rather than fraying at the edges. There's a quiet satisfaction in finishing on schedule, in walking away from a morning that asked for nothing more than what you'd planned to give. A weekend round done well leaves the rest of the day feeling earned.

Which was just as well, because the rest of the day was largely given over to repairs. I drove out to Kota Damansara for physio — the right shoulder has been playing up this past month, and it has now reached the stage where ignoring it is no longer a credible strategy. It was sore enough to warrant acupuncture, that curious business of being made to feel better by means of small needles and quiet faith. I won't pretend to understand entirely how it works, only that the shoulder and I have reached an arrangement, and the shoulder, frankly, has the upper hand at present. The body, having served without complaint for a good while, has begun sending the occasional memo. One reads them whether one wants to or not.

After that, a late lunch at Johnny's in Alpha Angle — the sort of unfussy, familiar place that asks nothing of you but your appetite. There's comfort in a meal that requires no decisions, no occasion, just sitting down somewhere you've sat a hundred times before and letting it be exactly what it always is.

And perhaps it was the familiarity of the place, or the slowness of a sore Saturday, but we fell to reminiscing — back to the Gombak years, when we lived out that way and the boys were still small. Funny how those days arrive unbidden, summoned by nothing in particular. They were not, at the time, days we thought we'd one day miss. They were just the days we were in — busy, ordinary, faintly exhausting in the way that small children make everything. And now they have that warm, burnished quality that ordinary things acquire only once they're safely behind you. We didn't dwell on it. You don't need to. A few minutes of "do you remember" is enough to acknowledge the thing and move on, which is probably the healthiest way to handle the past.

A quick stop at the pasar malam in Melawati on the way back — that reliable parade of light and smoke and noise, the smell of grilled things hanging in the evening air. I didn't buy much. Sometimes the walking-through is the point, more than the buying.

Then home, and an early night, the shoulder insisting on it more firmly than I'd have chosen myself. There's no arguing with a sore body once it's made up its mind. It had been a good day, in its quiet, slightly creaky way — a morning done right, an afternoon spent mending, and a brief, unsentimental visit to a version of us from twenty years ago. Not a bad way to spend a Saturday. The shoulder may disagree. It usually does.

Weekend, and the Small Logistics of It

Please click the photo above to play the daily videoThe weekend arrived, though it didn't begin with a lie-in — those are a luxury reserved for a different kind of Saturday. Irfan had driving school, which meant the morning opened with a bit of domestic logistics: dropping him off on my way in to work, the two of us in the car at an hour that felt faintly unfair to both of us. There's something quietly pleasing, all the same, about these small handovers — the parent-as-chauffeur routine that I know has a shelf life, and that I'll probably miss more than I'd care to admit once he's driving himself everywhere.

Work, even on a Saturday, was waiting. But the clinic ran smoothly, which on a weekend morning is exactly what one hopes for. A stem cell infusion was done and went as it should — the sort of thing that demands full attention while it's happening and then, gratifyingly, recedes into the category of "completed." By the time lunch came round, the morning's work was behind me, and I could step out of it cleanly. A morning that knows when to end is a gift in itself.

Lunch was with Anita, which made the day feel properly like a weekend rather than a slightly truncated working one. There's a particular ease to a midday meal with no clock pressing on it, the conversation unhurried, the food allowed to be the point rather than fuel grabbed between commitments. After the week behind us, sitting down together felt less like an event and more like a quiet restoration.

Afterwards I found a little time to catch up with Star City before the day's next logistical obligation came due — namely, collecting Irfan again from driving school. The chauffeur, recalled to duty. He emerged, presumably marginally more roadworthy than he'd gone in, and we made our way onward.

And onward meant the pasar malam, because some weekend rituals don't require deliberation. There's no real planning involved — you simply go, and let the place do what it does. The crowd, the steam, the smell of things grilling, the small negotiations over what to take home and what to eat on the spot. It's the kind of unstructured pleasure that resists being filmed properly and is all the better for it. You just move through it, basket filling, appetite rising, the evening settling into something warm and slightly chaotic in the best way.

By the time we got home, the day had quietly used itself up, and what remained was a restful night — the proper kind, with nowhere further to be and nothing more to sort. After a hectic week and a Saturday that, for all its smoothness, still asked something of me, an evening of simply being at home felt like the correct ending.

Not a grand weekend opening, then. Driving school, a clinic, a good lunch, a night market, and a quiet house at the end of it. But the small logistics of an ordinary good day, strung together, add up to something I wouldn't trade.

Pasar Malam

After spending the best part of an hour at the ICU talking to the nurses about my Uncle, I went straight to Kepala Batas. It was time for pasar malam. I just couldn't resist it. Being Saturday evening, the place was packed. It didn't help when I got there just after half past 6. The crowd were really in a rush to get their chopping done.

Didn't get to do a proper browsing. It was pretty much smash and grab, before rushing to Sungai Petani, arriving there just in time for berbuka.

It was undercooked. We had to cook again at home.Spent the rest of the evening catching up with the family gossip and talking about my Uncle. He remained critical, and the journey for him would be a long one. It also looked like he might have to be on dialysis at the rate he was going. Big challenges ahead.

After the talks died down, I really need to get some sleep - and catch the football a bit later on. It would be a subdued game with the two semifinal losers meeting for a third placing match. But still worth the watch ....

Pasar Malam Kepala Batas

Given half a chance, I would definitely prefer a free Saturday evening at my kampung, Kepala Batas. The reason, the Saturday evening market, or pasar malam.

I would definitely stop at the laksa buyung stalls, ais kacang and apom balik. I was not expecting much from today, being the fifth day of Aidilfitri. But I was lucky this evening. I managed to catch all three.

The famous laksa buyung. This was the third generation in the family selling it.It was the special claypot where the broth were cooked that gave the name to "buyung".We were early, plus it was only a few days after Aidilfitri.

I remember coming to the Pasar Malam since I was in Primary School. Back then, it was an evening pit with my classmates. We would congregate at one of my friends' houses, go to the mosque for Maghrib Prayers, before going over to the Pasar Malam.

Before Aidilfitri, I got in touch with one of these friends but he would be away during the weekend at his in-laws. Would love to hook up with these lot again and catch up on old times.

For the time being, time to enjoy my laksa.

PD Day Trip

Given a scolding from Idlan for not taking him straight to the apartmentAs mentioned before, we were planning a quite weekend in with Anita having cough and all. Everybody woke up extra early on the Saturday morning and by breakfast time we were wondering what to do. Unfortunately I have firstly the weekend ward round to do, then the Calibration Exercise for the upcoming Masters Exam. A day rip was therefore all that was possible. Tiring, but if we plan well, it will be worth it. 

The nasi daun pisang really hit the spotIdlan helping to carry stuffs up to the apartmentIdlan decided that we should have a quick trip to Port Dickson for an afternoon dip, and then travel back the evening. When we were packing - traveling light was never in Puan Anita’s vocabulary, I got a phonecall from my sister. She was moving to a new house in Kajang and will be leaving my Mum all alone for the weekend. My Dad was in Penang for a business trip and will only be back later on the Saturday afternoon. We thought, why not bring her along. Went to pick her up, and before we know it, we were already in PD by lunchtime. We headed straight for the Golf Club and had the traditional ‘Nasi Daun Pisang’. The PDGCC does a good lunch set every weekend. They have recently changed their menu, but the ‘nasi daun pisang’ lunch stays. Good stuff, and way cheaper than the one from Jalan Gasing, unless you count the cost of fuel and toll of course. They also do a nice breakfast selection - nasi lemak and roti canai with teh tarik, which we normally order all three.

At the pasar malam - ordering my laksaStraight to the apartment next. I had a nice afternoon snooze, with the fan on, listening the sound of the waves. Irfan woke me an hour after. Anita wanted to hit the Pasar Malam to get some tea. Every Saturday afternoon, about 5 minutes drive from our apartment at Bayu Beach, there was an night market at Si Rusa. Compared to KL, the food there were both cheap and much better quality-wise. I always had the laksa, kebab and apam balik from the same stalls. Should any of you happen to be in PD on Saturdays, drop me a line and I will guide you to which stall serve the best food.

By the beach - but the rain was comingAfter tea, it was time to hit the beach. Complete with spades and other assorted tools, the boys got to work on the sand, before hitting the water. Unfortunately, we only managed about half an hour this time as the rain was coming our way. We got back into the apartment just in time. A quick shower, then we ate some more while waiting for Maghrib before taking both Anita and my Mum for a nice Mother’s Day Dinner. I’ll blog about that one later! The photos from the trip can be seen here.

Sunset before Maghrib