I’m not much of a night person, but I have been thinking about coping with changes lately. My conclusion? Change is our only constant.
How do we react when change is a must? Usually, not very well.
I have to admit that that adapting isn’t one of my strongest suits.
I have no problem eaing at the same restaurant if it serves food that I’m partial to. The dishes taste good; there’s no need to go to other restaurants,is there?
Variety, however is the spice of life, and there are things that become irrelevant with the passage of time. Indeed, change is sometimes necessary. How do we cope? Focus on what we can control, stay positive, present and flexible.
The moon represents change: we know it’s phases. The cresent, the half. and three quarters. We finally have the full moon in all it’s glory. It’s the gratification we wait for as we try to navigate gruelling changes.
Our parents brought us up with the notion that honesty is the best, in fact only, policy. In most circumstances, the truth bolsters one’s integrity, strengthens relationships and sets one free.
However, is the truth appropriate all the time? There are times when it isn’t so apt. Would you let a person with ill intent know where a person he intends to harm is hiding? Would you provide full disclosure of your bank account details to a hacker?
Being a straight arrow is a must, but there are occasions when it must bend a little. Enjoy these senryus.
Petty trivialities trigger this post. Without going into detail, something a cashier at a supermarket said annoyed me somewhat.
After a minor outburst, I paid for my purchases and returned home. I spent the rest of the afternoon overcoming my annoyance
and eventually let go of this rather minor altercation.
Life is a little too short to struggle emotionally with minor grievances, though. All said, these incidents may not seem so minor to you when they happen.
Letting go of them is very much releasing a hot-air balloon. One has to put the grievance in perspective, empathise a little, challenge negative thoughts and finally, release them. Easier said than done, but it is a great mindfulness exercise.
Enjoy these senryus to hot air balloons. For those who don’t quite know what it is, these follow the 575 format of a haiku but concentrate on the human experience rather than nature. And use another object to create them! No need for leaves.
My inner Singaporean compels me to introduce everyone to another of my local dessert favorites, Ondeh Ondeh. These to-die-for glutinous rice flour balls, filled with palm sugar and rolled in grated coconut, are a breakfast or dessert mainstay in Singapore and Malaysia. Pandan juice gives it a pleasant shade of green.
This dessert treat was at the table whenever my aunts popped in for visits. It is a little more difficult to find now, so you can still find it at selected restaurants and bakeries.
I use the Epulaeryu poetic format once again to pay tribute to this popular dessert. Here it is for those who are not familiar with it.
An Epulaeryu consists of seven lines in total. Syllable Count: Each line follows a specific syllable count: The first line has seven syllables. The second line has ten syllables. The third line has seven syllables. The fourth line has seven syllables. The fifth line has ten syllables. The sixth line has seven syllables. The seventh line, also known as the “dessert line,” summarizes the feeling or experience of the food and contains seven syllables. Here is one:
Green mounds filled with joyful love Are covered in grated sheets of white snow Settle on pink rolling plane That curls in frenzied delight A savory explosion Yet sugary addition A treat both tangy and sweet.
Living in, or surviving in, a tropical country entails eating cold desserts. And so I have depended on them since I was a child.
Ice Kachang is a Southeast Asian resident’s answer to a hot day. A chilled, colourful mountain filled with grass jelly, green jelly, red bean, corn, and a chestnut-brown local fruit known as attap chee, it comforts the soul and beats the heat. Top it off with condensed milk, and one comes up with a sweet treat that ignites the tastebuds.
Enjoy this Epulaeryu dedicated to Ice Kachang. An epulaeryu, for those not so familiar with this not-often-used poetic form, is a short verse that has food as its primary theme.
An Epulaeryu consists of seven lines in total.
Syllable Count: Each line follows a specific syllable count:
The first line has seven syllables.
The second line has ten syllables.
The third line has seven syllables.
The fourth line has seven syllables.
The fifth line has ten syllables.
The sixth line has seven syllables.
The seventh line, also known as the “dessert line,” summarizes the feeling or experience of the food and contains seven syllables.
Young Mark Lim grabbed a seat at the dinner table and sat seated himself with the front of the chair facing him, legs askew. The chicken drumsticks that his mother, Elaine, had laid out on the table were too succulent to resist; he grabbed one, much to her frustration.
“We’re supposed to be having those later,” she scolded, snatching it back from the twelve-year-old and putting it back on the plate with disapproval written all over her face.
“Anyway, you’re cheery. What’s the news?”
“I just opened the mailbox. Mum, I am a proud Rafflesian!”
Mark had just finished the primary school leaving examination that decides the academic fate of all twelve-year-olds in Singapore. The academically inclined Mark had a score that enabled him to enter the next phase of his education at whatever school he wanted.
“Proud of you, boy,” Mark’s father, David, who had just returned from the office and entered the kitchen, patted him on the shoulder.
“Thanks, old man,” Mark said, giving his father a fist bump. His laissez-faire relationship with his father hadn’t gotten in the way of him doing well in his studies.
“Knock it off, you two, and get ready for dinner. Western today,” The usually stoic Elaine was used to the show of male camaraderie. There was a little too much camaraderie for her liking; she wished her boy to have a more conventional relationship with his parents, fearing that he would lose academic footing. Mark wouldn’t have secured excellent grades if not for me, she thought. She turned her attention to the boy and instantly sharpened the tone of her voice.
“Remember the math homework that you owe your math tutor today. Now that you’re a proud student of Raffles Institution, there’s no rest for you.”
Mark groaned. “Mum, can’t I relax for just today?” The thought of homework triggered an overwhelm that Mark didn’t discuss with his parents. All they would tell him was to stop providing lazy excuses for not getting work done.
“You’ll regret it if you do.”
Mark trundled to the bathroom to wash his hands. He gritted his teeth. He wasn’t sure if he was the one who should experience regret.
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PART TWO
Mark sat in front of his desk, math books strewn in front of him. They seemed to be beckoning him with cruel taunts. “Didn’t you always say that you can achieve perfect scores in math? Isn’t it always easy for you? Shouldn’t these problems be a piece of cake?”
He stared lamely at the lifelike books, completely resigned. He had actually failed a test that his tutor had provided a week ago; he had to beg the hapless teacher to keep the poor score a secret from his mother. She had pinned all academic hope on Mark; his older brother and sister had fallen by the wayside in that department.
He stared at the incomprehensible numbers, a thunderous pounding hitting his head like a tonne of bricks. He had to uncover their solutions, no matter how late it got. He thought of his mother’s disapproving gaze poring into him if he scored anything less than an A.
He struggled for an hour before surrendering completely and going to bed. He grimaced, thinking of the reed-like cane his mother wielded every time he didn’t achieve a satisfactory grade.
His mother. Always a vision of loveliness. He closed his eyes and slowly drifted off to sleep, his vision slowly disappearing.
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PART 3
The teacher’s face was grim. She stared at Mark, the stoic expression never wavering. It made Mark wish the tutoring session was over.
“Another quiz,” she intoned pedantically. “You’ll have to do better than you did the last time, or I will have to have a conversation with your mom.”
He turned the paper she laid in front of him over and scanned through the questions as quickly as he could. Although he had managed to score an A in the recent national exams, math wasn’t his strong suit. But he couldn’t tell his parents that.
He put his pen down after an hour, finally completing the last question with a sigh of relief.
“Let’s hope that the score’s a better one this time.” She collected the paper from him and slotted it within a stash of scripts within her ever-present file.
Mark watched her leave, feeling tears well between his eyes. On the paper he had handed to his tutor, there was a bunch of gibberish; he couldn’t complete any of the sums.
Exhaustion washed over him. He laid his head on his desk and sleep quickly took over his drained body; he had spent the night studying, even though the quiz was only part of a tutorial. As he fell asleep, visions of his mother’s face slowly took over. They seemed particularly grotesque; scraggly, unkempt long hair covered her wrinkled, sallow face. She seemed to have lost a tooth as well. who would think that this was someone who nurtured and gave birth to him? Mark willed them away with effort.
They finally vanished.
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PART 4
Police sirens filled the driveway that led to Mark’s two-storey home, and investigators slowly piled out of their squad cars. Mark greeted them, sobs combined with anxiety in his voice.
“Officers, quickly,” he ushered them into the hall where the battered body of his mother lay. “I think someone broke into the home this afternoon while my dad was at work. I was at school. I don’t know who could have done this to her,”
Mark was distraught. A female investigator laid a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll give you something to eat at the station,” she tried his best to console him. “While waiting for the other investigators to clear the crime scene, why don’t you tell us what happened? When was the last time you spoke to your mum?”
“That would be last night,” Mark professed through his sobs. “We had an argument. I told her that I had failed a math quiz by a mark and she was upset about that. But we didn’t speak more after.”
“Ok. why don’t you follow us to the station so that you can provide more information about what happened,” She guided him to one of the waiting squad cars.
Mark had the required answers to her questions ready. Visions of his mother didn’t come; it was just a mark.
The straits fervour within me prompts me to introduce everyone to a Peranakan go-to snack: Kaya cake. Everyone has a different version of it. My Nonya grandmother prepared hers by layering rich Kaya on top of an equally decadent layer of rice.
I died and went to heaven. That’s how one feels after eating a slice of this baked phenomenon. The layer of Kaya gives one the sweet lift one needs at breakfast or tea time, while the sticky rice below, like jewels, gives this snack a burst of savoury zest. What can I say? When combined, there is an explosion of flavour in one’s mouth. (Note that teeth are jewels too).
Pineapple tarts always bring thoughts of the Lunar New Year. My grandmother isolated herself in the kitchen to bake them. With its crisp, golden crust and grandma’s tangy, heartfelt pineapple filling, they were at the apex of everyone’s snack mountain (and I do mean mountain).
I think we cherished these sweet-savory snack delights because they tasted out of the universe and some, for one. For another, they were one of her cooking passions, and it showed. It was a pity that they were seasonal delights—grandma only baked them when the new year rolled around.
We can still enjoy them, though, and these verses are in their honour.
As long as we are discussing our favourite childhood snacks, I thought I’d discuss
a popular snack in Asia: curry puffs. I am a savoury person and practically addicted to spice, so this golden-crusted, spicy-potato-filled concoction, popular in Singapore and other parts of Asia, clearly qualifies as one of them. It was certainly one of my childhood go-tos.
If its golden crust is not enough to thrill you, a potato or chicken filling will. Tangy, golden, and layered with spice that will set your tongues on fire, you can consume it on its own. Combined with its too-crisp crust, this snack is hard to beat. Enjoy this curry puff sonnet.
I realise that chocolate is everyone’s go-to dessert and probably does not come up top in the unique desserts department. But it has been a dessert mainstay since I was a child.
Chocolate, without all the trimmings, has a surprising slew of benefits that include heart health, enhanced brain function, improved skin health, and of course, an improved mood.
The Getting Literal Writing Alcove 