I came home from work earlier today feeling exhausted – my lungs aching away with each breath. Occasionally, I would contort my face and cough out a battalion of small nothings before it escalates into a violent cough (that’s where my out-of-body experience happens). And almost immediately, in the quiet silence, I’d lie back and mumble away on my hate of sickness and how I’m not a million Ringgit richer.
It’s there and then when the gears in my grey matter chug slowly along, leading to thoughts on how life can, at most times, be just a series of suffering.
Buddhist scholars know this; it’s one the Buddha’s noble truths…Christians like myself are painfully aware of the role suffering has in our history; most great men and women of God had their own crosses to bear…and I’m pretty sure it’s there in the Quran somewhere.
Whatever it is, everything that I was able to cope with before is now THRICE as difficult because I’m sick, lethargic, and hallucinatory (father found me laughing to myself while I was napping, enough said).
So I whined to a couple of friends, who, being fantastic old mates, told me to shove it because many others are worse off, making me feel like a complete nincompoop for even complaining.
Yes, I know about Ebola outbreaks in Congo, wars that are still tearing Darfur, and the possibility of the world’s economy blowing, but I think everyone deserves a guiltless session of fine whining every now and then.
And so, as I reclined in my bed pouting myself silly and drowning in wild murmurs of being the unluckiest man on earth, my mom waltzes in with a queer look of sorts. In her hand, she held a white envelope. Grinning away as only a mother can she hands it to me and says “it’s from her~”.
Yay. Don’t you love it when life throws you a surprise? God, in His impeccable timing decided to drop the letter in today and walla, I’m all better.
Thanks dear :)
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
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