The "orange jam" story

We were shopping at a hypermarket and my daughter was looking at some jams … she asked me … “what jam do you want Daddy?”

I told her I want orange marmalade and as she was looking for it, she asked again … “Daddy, why you like orange marmalade? I told her there is a story behind it. “What story, what so special about it?” … I heard her asking as she was walking away to another aisle. I did not have the chance to tell her the story then and she wasn’t interested anyway.

Now, I would like to tell the story here.

When I was a primary school kid, every school day morning my mom would make breakfast for me … a hot cup of BOH tea with condense milk, two pieces of bread spread with margarine and then on top of the margarine she will sprinkle some sugar.

Then I would take the bread and cover the cup of tea … the steam from the hot tea will melt the margarine … melted margarine with sugar taste so much better. Alternately we will have Marie biscuits or cream crackers every now and then. That was what we can afford.

After getting me to school my mom will go to work. She was a housemaid for a British expatriate in a bungalow somewhere near Section 16, Petaling Jaya. She works from 8am till late in the evening. My mom told me (many years later) that her "gwai low" boss was employed by Dumex … I am sure many will remember the factory near the roundabout in Section 16.

When I was 9 years old … during a school holiday, my mom took me to her work place … that was the first time I went inside a bungalow. It was a huge place … while she was working, I was told to hang around at the back of the bungalow near the servant’s quarter … yes, the bungalow was that big. There was a small building at the back with two rooms where the servants can rest. She left me playing on my own foraging into a small forest looking for birds and spiders just behind the bungalow.

A while later my mom came looking for me … in her hands were a small container, a glass of milk and bread. She took me to the servant’s quarter and then spread what I saw was some jelly like stuffs on the bread. I asked her what it is … she said … “orange jam”. And then she let me have the bread. It was delicious … the first time I tasted “orange jam” … or any jam for that matter. I really like it … so different from what I used to eat every day.

Then I asked her if she can make it at home and she told me she did not make it … her boss bought it and it is expensive … she “stole” a bit for me.

My mom watched as I was enjoying the delicious bread spread with “orange jam” … there was something in her expression … a type of feeling that I did not know it then but I know it later. It was a feeling of happiness, bliss and a sense of joy knowing that her son is happy.

Not long later I get to taste “orange jam” again … this time it was at home and it was in a glass bottle and I could read the label on the bottle … it says “orange marmalade”. It was the same “orange jam” that my mom gave me at her work place. She knew I like the jam and she bought it. I was too young to know how much she paid for it but it was something expensive. She bought it just because I like it.

And not just that … you see, my mom did not eat the orange marmalade. I asked her why … she said she doesn’t like it. Strange … such delicious condiment and she doesn’t like it. I did not think much about that but later I realized that it was not because she doesn’t like orange marmalade … it was because I like it and she let me have all of it.

And I remember from there onwards … there was always a bottle of marmalade at home. 

Even years later … in my 20s, when I was on my own … when I got married and have my own kids … every time I go visit my mom … in the fridge, there will always be a bottle of orange marmalade. And same as before, she won’t touch it … it was there just for me when I go see her. Every time I will make it a point to eat the orange marmalade … if not with bread, I will just take a few spoonsful of it. She will watch me and you can see the expression on her face again … the same feeling she had when she first brought me the “orange jam” when I was a child … the very same happiness, bliss and the sense of joy showed on her face. 

You see, my mom is a very sentimental person … she remembers things … whether sad or happy. She held nostalgia close to her heart. Let me move away from this “orange jam” story and tell you another story … I will come back to it in a while. 

My mom was born in Beranang (few kilometers south of Semenyih) … the old house where she grew up in, is still there today … just off the main trunk road. I took her back to see the old house many times. 

Now … every time when she was there, she will reenact a sad incident that happened to her when she was young. Just after the war … due to poverty, my grandfather was forced to give away one of his children … he decided to give away the youngest daughter, the last child after my mom. And at the old house … my mom will reenact the moment how her sister was taken away.

She will walk about a hundred meters from the old house up a slope to the main trunk road … on the road, she will stand facing the side towards Mantin … then she will just wave her hand exactly like she waved to her sister while she (her sister) was taken away on a back of a bicycle many years ago … she will stand there waving for a few minutes oblivious to the cars passing by … she will wave as if until her sister disappears into the distance. And then she will walk back to the old house … her eyes were red. I can see how she was affected by the incident in her younger days.

Though a very sad incident … it did have a happy ending. Years later, my mom and her sister found each other in Malacca.

And back to the “orange jam” story … you see ... like my mother, I am also a very sentimental person. There were many incidents … good or bad, sad or happy, throughout my life that I hold close to me … these are valuable memories of someone or something very dear to me.

So why I love orange marmalade? Because every time I taste orange marmalade … it brings the memory of my mother, the expression and the feeling that she felt watching her son enjoying the “orange jam” and knowing how happy her son was. It brings a familiar feeling … I know the feeling and I like the feeling … the same feeling of happiness, bliss and joy of remembering my dear mother.

Yes, go ahead … be a millionaire

I received many comments on my writings … commenting about my simple lifestyle. There were questions asking me how I live a simple life and some said that they wish they could do the same. But there is this one lady from Singapore who sent me an email asking me how much money do I have … really, she asked quite specifically … one million? Two? Or three?
 

She seems to think that I must have a big fat account in the bank and she went on to say that if I have the money, why I am “mistreating” myself. I should be "living like a millionaire” … yes, those quoted are her exact words.

Well, I don’t know where she got the idea from but let me say this.

First … YES, I have money … I have savings and I have investments … I don’t deny that. How much money do I have? A million? Two? Three? I won't tell you but I have always said that I have enough.

Mistreating myself??? Hey, excuse me! I am not living like a pauper or living a minimalist life and I am definitely not living like Tarzan in the jungle. Actually, with the money I have … my family and I are living quite comfortably with all the necessities of a modern average family. My idea of living an easy and simple life is … living within my means. I do what I like and like what I do because I only like and do things that I can afford.

Live like a millionaire??? Let me ask … how does one live like a millionaire? I guess a millionaire must live in a big luxury house, drives high end expensive cars, splash on exotic holidays, owns designer’s bags and watches ... right?

So, can I live like millionaire? Yes I can … I can buy a bigger house, get an expensive luxury car, go on exotic holidays, wears designer’s accessories and send my kids overseas to study … yes, I can do all that but I chose not to … why?

Simply because I chose time over money. Now, strange as it may sound … I really do enjoy having more time than having more money.

If I want to live like a millionaire … I would probably have to continue working until I am 60 years old … maybe even longer. If I did not stop working ten years ago … I would have a lot more money now. I could have made another half a million dollar or a bit more. Would my life be better with half a million more? I don’t know and I will never be able to know … I cannot turn back the clock and have another go at it.

But what I know now is … that I am living my life quite comfortably, healthily, happily, easily … enjoying the time I have and doing what I like. I said it before and I will say it again … I am not amazed by how much people make … I am amazed by how little I need.

But then again people don’t have to live like me. In fact, many don't ... they live better than me. We all have our own ideas of how we want to live. There is nothing wrong living like a millionaire if you have the money. Many people worked very hard to become millionaires and it is entirely up to them how to spend their hard-earned money on whatever they think they deserved. It is their way to tell and show people that they have achieved success. It is their way of rewarding themselves for what they have achieved. They can do what they like with their money and like what they do with their money. I think we can all agree to this.

Yes, go ahead … be a millionaire and live like one. Work harder and if you still want more … work longer. But the thing is … in the process, don’t get caught in never-ending chase. One must know where to draw the line.

Don’t lose track of time … sometimes people are too engrossed in the search for success that they let time and things pass, knowingly and unknowingly. Yes, it is always like this … many people only find out when it is too late to look for things they have missed.

Don’t get addicted and develop the insatiable greed for more and more. Don’t push contentment too far away … one must know when to stop and start to live and enjoy life with what you already have.

And last but not least … don’t complain life is too fucking short. Life is not short … maybe you just took too fucking long to start enjoying it.

At my home

In a conversation with a friend who was visiting me for afternoon tea, we chatted on various things … from politics to parenting to old age. During conversation an interesting subject popped up … a topic on home … I mean a home that a family lives in.

It was about what it takes to make a good home … we are talking the about a home, not a house ya … I am sure we all know the difference.

Before I go further … let me first make clear the topic of the discussion. 

What is a home?

Is it a house? Well … yes but not necessary. I searched the internet for meaning of home … an online dictionary defines a home as … a place where one lives permanently, especially as a member of a family or household. OK, different dictionaries have different definitions but most say it is a place.

Yes, a place … it could be a cave, a cavern, a lodge or a hideout shelter. It does not necessary have to be a house or an apartment. For some people, it could be a pub or a bar … they called it their second home.

I read something that says a home is a place that one would like to go back to again and again after you have done with the day. So, for most of us, very likely it will be our house.

And in the discussion with my friend … we were talking about a home that is conducive for all and the talking point of discussion was … “a place to go back to again and again” and the question I want to ask is … what is there in your home that makes you want to go back to again and again?

Well, different families may have different ideas for their homes. I have been to many homes … a few elaborately decorated, some are very nicely organized, other are simple but pleasingly furnished. But it is not how the house is decorated or how it is designed even though it does add to the comfort and convenience for the family.

More importantly, it is the atmosphere, the camaraderie, the bonding, the respect, the responsibility, the commitment and the obligations of all the people living in it … all of those are important to make the home a place that you want to go back to again and again. The things, the doings and the interests in a home should not only be favorable or bias towards certain people of the family … it must compliment everyone living in it.

I have been to someone’s home lately … in the family, the wife is a devout Buddhist. To satisfy the needs of the wife’s belief … the place is decorated with many of the religion’s memorabilia and recorded mantra is constantly playing over and over from day till night. Only vegetarian is allowed and I was told that even killing of mosquitoes is not encouraged. And one more thing, wifi is not allowed. Well, this has nothing to do with the religion … it is just that the devout wife believes that wifi can cause cancer.

Let me say this clearly … I am not against religion but just because one person is a devout Buddhist … the whole family have to live restricted to the religion. The young kids who don’t understand and don’t know how to appreciate the Buddhist chants have to listen to the recorded mantra all day long. The rest of the family who are not vegetarians can only eat meat at restaurants. Irritating mosquitoes fly and breed freely everywhere.

And wifi can cause cancer??? I don’t want to go into that … it will be another three paragraphs if I do.

So, is this home a favorable place to live in? Yes, it might be but to only one person. For the rest of the family … they have to tolerate the restriction. Really, I think it is not a place that they would like to go back to again and again. Then again, I might be wrong … maybe they like to live with the restriction and they will go back again and again.

Let me tell you this … I am a diehard fan of aliens … I believe in super intelligent beings from outer space. So much so that I am convinced that I am an alien. I accept the idea that my ancestors came to this planet from another universe thousands of years ago. YES, I really believe that. 

Now, just because I believe in aliens, I cannot make my place (which I shared with my wife and kids) like a spaceship, put alien memorabilia everywhere and play music from “the encounter of the third kind” all day and night. It is only me who think I am an alien … my wife and kids think that it is a ridiculous idea. Make my place like a spaceship? Don’t even mention it in front of my wife … my ass will be kicked out into space at the speed of light.

I am not sure about other people’s home but at my home … be it responsibilities and obligations, duties and chores, obsessions and beliefs, discussions and arguments, art and deco, rules and regulations, whims and fancies, dos and don’ts, needs and nots or other conditions and matters … we must be able to know what to appreciate, who to respect, what to avoid and why it is not allowed so that we can make the setting fair, reasonable and compatible for everyone in order to keep the place and the people bonded in good spirits.

So, what is it like at my home? 

At my home … is where everyone has their freedom, privacy and practices within common expectation. It is where my kids are free to lock their bedroom doors, play their songs and do not have to worry about what is on their phones and computers. It is where my wife and I have our own man cave and she shed where we do our own things and enjoy some private space and down time.

At my home … is where my wife can be assured that she is needed and appreciated for keeping the things running like clockwork. It is where she is pampered for what she had contributed attentively to keep the family neat, tidy and fed.

At my home … is where I can look forward to enjoy a simple home cooked meal at the end of the day. It is where I felt most at ease resting, idling or watching my favorite TV series oblivious to the kid’s perpetual arguing, dogs barking and my two cats playfully scrambling all over the place.

And at my home … is where I feel close to my loved ones and find companionship in them. It is where I am never lonely even when I am alone. It is where I want to be and it is where I will go back to again and again. 

Apa susah susah ???

In most of my social media postings, I will always end with a mocking question … “apa susah susah ???” For those who don’t understand the words, it is a Malay phrase which means … “what so difficult ???”

Yes, what I am saying is … what is so difficult ? You want to live a good life? Take it easy, make it easy ... just live simple and enjoy the many simple pleasures around us. Apa susah susah ??? 

Many people got this idea that I am showing off … that I am able to retire early, live a comfortable life and now I am telling the whole world how good my life is. Well, yes … at this very moment, I am living a good life. I won’t deny it. 

But first, let me define a good life … a good life in my context is that I have enough and I have to live prudently for the rest of my life. I will have make do with simple things … make life easy with simple needs. 

So, while an average family fork out 100k for a medium range car … I will have to settle for a used 7k Proton Wira. While all my peers are buying new houses worth millions … I am still living in my house which I bought 22 years ago. While my peers are spending thousands or even millions sending their children to England, USA, Canada or Australia for tertiary educations … my kids will have to settle for local medium range universities for their degrees. 

Just a couple weeks ago, while many spent hundreds or thousands in fancy restaurants celebrating Mother’s Day … my wife and I were at home celebrating over a roasted duck I bought from the pasar malam (night market). 

And while others shop at Pavillion, One Utama, Mid Valley for clothing and apparels … we go to “Jalan Jalan Japan” for “pre-loved” clothing … where we pay 5 bucks for a pair of shorts and 3 bucks for a t-shirt. 

I am not rich but I am not poor either. I will be lying if I say I don’t have money. I do have savings and investments and if I live prudently, I think I will have enough to last me for a while. There is a saying … “if you have 500 bucks, don’t buy a 500-buck handbag … instead buy a 50-buck handbag and put 450 bucks inside it … don’t go broke trying to look rich”. Well, that is exactly what I am doing.

Having said that ... I must also say that not everyone share the same opinion. Just like me, many people struggled and worked very hard too for their money. There are those who want to celebrate and show their successes ... so maybe they will want to indulge in a 500-buck handbag to please themselves and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. How people want to celebrate and show what they have achieved is entirely up to them.

For me, maybe it is the failures that I went through that made me what I am today ... a very careful and prudent person who knows what it is like to have nothing. Yes, there were times, many times, when I was down in the drain with absolutely nothing.

You see, from what they see now ... many people think I am one of those lucky ones who at a fairly early age get to live without financial worries … living a carefree, simple, easy life. It looks like I have had a rather sweet and smooth journey to an early success in my life. 

But what many people don't know is that I struggled for many years to come to what I have today. Many don’t know that I was retrenched during the recession in the mid 80s. Many don’t know I went back to study at the age of 26 in the day, sold deserts at hawker market at night and drove taxi on weekends to pay for my studies. 

Many don’t know that I started an advertising outfit in the 90s but was forced to cease operation due to the financial crisis at that time … I was the art director, the copywriter, the account manager, the production assistant as well as the debt collector.

Many don’t know that I opened a coffee shop … a bad investment that lasted 18 months and cost me thousands. Many don’t know that I had a major lung surgery at the age of 36 and have to rely on borrowings and contributions from friends to pay the medical bills.

And what many don’t know is that my wife and I re-mortgaged our house and started a small café in Kelana Jaya and worked our asses off to make ends meet.

What I have today did not come easy … so that is why I am very prudent in managing my finances in order to live simple and easy with a bit of comfort and some necessities. I have said it before and I will say it again … I don’t live to show people as if I want to own the world … I live as if I don’t care who owns the world !!! 

I have “susah susah” for many years already. I am 56 years old now and I think I do have some active years to live. For whatever years that is left in my life … I just want to live it out simple and easy.

I like simple things, I enjoy simple pleasures, I relish simple moments, I love down-to-earth people, I prefer uncomplicated relationship and I take things very easy.

So for me ... really, apa susah susah ???