My Longkang

Looking in Through Lighted Windows at Night

I am one who has never been in the ‘in’ crowd. You can see me on the outer fringes of…. gatherings My father always used to say, “Kids are meant to be seen and not heard.”

I am seeking that which seems an illusion….a chance to speak. A throw back to the old days during family dinners: being the most junior and I have to say , ” Please eat 3rd sister, second sister etc etc up the hierarchy second auntie…..up till the relative of so and so who is a relative of so and so.” It will be a full 5 minutes before I finish with my list.

By the time I finish speaking everyone will be so relieved and tuck into the nyonya fare my mother always cooks….gado-gado, jiu hu cha, medan chicken curry, kiam chai boi, stuffed chicken …and the compulsory steamboat Never mind that the old steam boat was never really anything like a steamboat :).

It sat squarely in the middle of the dining table occupying precious space, the charcoal emitting smoke whenever it sensed I was being too happy and wanted to begrudge my happiness. Everybody’s table manners was excellent, no elbows on the table; there was no space left for the elbows . No talking with the mouth full: how could we, it was either eat or there would be nothing left. We just ate as much and as fast as we could

And I would always feel proud when I imagine people looking in through our lighted window, watching us all gather eating, merrily. Never mind that the curtains were old, tattered or cheap. Never mind that the formica on the chairs we were sitting on were chipped and the legs were rusty, never mind that the seats were hard and uncomfortable, never mind that the father struggled and toiled to feed the whole clan the whole year through

I was proud. I was proud. Bless you father, bless you mother.