Maa

Maa isnt keeping well. What can be a bigger nightmare to a son? sitting seas apart, I am only left with a bewildered mind and a paranoia to believe that all will be fine. But never it calms me down! Its never possible. I wanted to grow up to see my maa happy. I wanted to grow up to fre my maa of the tensions she had endured so long. I wanted a good job so that she can someday boast of her son! I wanted to show to the world that my maa can only give the best moral to her son. She did, She gave, undoubtedly. But what have i achieved? Maa, my maa is not well, Maa is NOT WELL god damn it. And I the supposedly ever so caring , dutiful son can just do nothing other than worrying and making my mind the consolation that all will be all right!
I mean, Why me? Why alwas me? and why my mom? I want to go to her, touch her and suck her pain, want to make her feel comfortable, but the price that I decided to pay ironically to make her happiest maa in the world seems too heavy. I cant maa, I cant go, I cant heal, I cant share, I can do anything...and I have no face left to say sorry! Maa please forgive me...
I am so lost! Maa get well soon... plz ma, everything is getting clumsy and all the price, all endeavour and all that I loved to believe ... they become baseless unless you are well and smiling. cant even imagine the dreaded scene of you suffering maa, get well soon, for my sake, for our sake! Love you maa, miss you, love u love u love u ...u r the best ma, and you willbe alright, naah??

A price ... I pay, I miss

Why is it that you have to pay a price for what ever you want to do? Why is it the price seems always dearer? Why is it that after even paying the price we cant but miss and more more miss the price when it sould have been ideal to value whatever we have infront, right there, looking at us? probably for a bit acknowledgement?
yeah ... Singapore accepted us with open arms, unfurled all its beauty and warmth to make us feel at home... yet Home becomes that ever enchanting entity that props up in the mind and ever taunts the make belief homely abode that I try to create in this far of shore.
In a silent afternoon, lazing on the small bed that symbolize my world, my space ... battling the harsh fever and the sever tiredness ... I long for the touch of those tenderness that spells Maa, the cloak of that assurance that smells baba and those nimble fingers trying to to confort me thats my dear dear cutie sis! Miss my home, and more so when I really feel alone, dodging the mammoth expectation while paying a price for expecting!