A Curried Life

The Cheongsam. Photo by Doris Lim The dare? A themed ball: Shanghai Night. Shanghai the Paris of the East. The dress? Cheongsam: a figure hugging one piece Chinese dress for women. In Mandarin, it is known as qípáo. Often stylish and tight fitting, it was created in 1920s in Shanghai, made fashionable by socialites and upper class women. How wonderfully giddy. So there we were; six of us packed in a deluxe room at the Grand Millennium Kuala Lumpur. Our beautiful Cheongsams were hanging in the closet. Mayhem and laughter abounded in our room with shrieks, greeting each other with hugs and air kisses. We had planned our trip. We planned detox diets. We grew our hair out, dye it. Tie it. Bun it. Sweep and fix it with hair spray. We glue moth wing eye lashes on our mono lids. Arch our eyebrows with pencilled in brown. Our fingers and toes perfectly manicured and pedicured. Scarlet. Added extra gloss to our lips and smacked kisses in the air. My best in the worl...

Old men and their iron horses. Photo by Doris Lim “Ah Kit hasn’t been his normal jovial self of late. Doc, I think he’s melancholy, depressed. Worried and withdrawn. He overeats, has stopped exercising and seemed to be nursing an invisible wound.” I blurted out. “Seriously, Doc. Why do men become like that? I don’t think it’s something that I’ve done, or didn’t do, say or didn’t say. He imagines things and is slighted over the littlest perceived snub. I really don’t know what’s wrong with him,” I threw my hands in the air. Totally exasperated. “He refused to talk to me. His silence is deafening. In fact, the kids would say, he has unfriend you, “I complained loudly to Dr Ava. My GP struggled to supress a giggle at Ah Kit’s childish behaviour. “Dee,” she began calmly as always, pausing for effect, “just because men don’t have periods, doesn’t mean they don’t feel all the touchy feely things that we women do.” “They do? Doc, do you mean they cry inside tears?” That sounded t...

Photo of Old Couple Kissing from Time Magazine Marriage is like a public toilet. Those waiting outside are desperate to get in and those inside are desperate to get out. ~ found on the cover of a senior’s bulletin. The other day, some girlfriends were having a little natter over an extended lunch that rolled to tea. Three marrieds, 1 divorced and 2 singles. A nice group to exchange jibes and lament our mutual predicament of menopause, men, children and lost loves. The marrieds (we’re talking high school and college sweethearts hitching up, here) have been married way too long. They’re beginning to look like each other. A pair actually looked like cousins or siblings. Flamboyant Sam is suddenly a grandmother at 40. She sighed nonchalantly, lifted her eyes and waved her hands in the air. “When my son started seeing this girl, my husband and I were so worried. Gary’s was 17 then and she’s 15. I took a look at her and the alarm bells went off. Healthy, frisky and ovulat...

Chinese Reflexology Shop. Photo by Doris Lim It was sometime in the 90s that my colleague and I decided to go the healthy route. Indian vegetarian food instead of lard laden char koay toew (fried flat noodles) for lunch. Reduce  sugar and copious cups of coffee and snacks. Both of us were in our late 20s and it was as good a time as any to start a healthy regime. For him it was weekend cycling round island. Some 6 hours or so of strenuous biking up the slopes on the south west side of the island and dodging cars on the north east side. Tennis twice weekly. Swimming every Monday and Wednesday and karaoke on the nights that we didn’t exercise. On nights like these, we’ll both have a liquid diet. He will have his beers and I will have my juices, fruit, cakes and supper after we’ve sung ourselves hoarse. One Thursday afternoon, Dan turned to me and said, “Let’s try foot reflexology” he grinned cheekily, eyes dancing mischievously. I turned up from my detailing and...

I watch Marge prepare tinned rice cereal, pre-mixed with milk for little Eva. “I’ve tried it myself,” she says, “it’s not bad. Would you like a taste?” I want to say aloud: No? That’s not real food. But instead flash a polite smile. Lovely Teochew porridge with duck gravy and cilantro, Sg. Bakap. P hoto by Doris Lim Chinese mothers start to prepare rice gruel for their babies when they wean off milk at about 9 months. In the 50s, the rice grains are first wash, dried taken to Indian spice millers to grind into powder. The rice gruel is cooked with water slowly over a charcoal stove in an enamel sauce pan, stirring constantly. A few grains of salt are added for taste. Sometimes a little Bovril is added.  As the child grows, the moms would add cubed potatoes and carrots to the rice gruel for colour and variety. Back then, it is not uncommon to see a grandmother feeding a row of little toddlers sitting quietly on small bamboo stools. She would nurse a big bowl of porridge...

Mantle Clock. Photo by Doris Lim It’s been a tough week. Around August every year, I get a little soapy. A little weepy sad. A little melancholy. There are many events in August that I like to forget. Blank out, wipe out. It’s like losing a little data that you remember backing up on those 4 inch diskettes that you either misplace, or mishandle; like placing them on car dashboard or on top of the TV. Back in the days when TV was actually almost like a piece of furniture. My old Sony could support a mantle clock! What is a mantle clock, you ask; why its a clock normally placed on a mantle of course. Marking time… Back to my being self-indulgently and sentimental, August is for me; a time of reflection. I’ve lost good friends and relatives over the years. Some after a period of illness. Some suddenly. Others to tragedy. ~ Lilli Mei’s eldest sister suffered from cancer and was at Mt Miriam, waiting. I couldn’t think of another word to better describe that period. One day, Mei s...

Gray and white friendly tom cat on the beach. Photo by Doris Lim There was a little crack at our metal door leading to the back lane, which Dad never got around to fixing. Mother would nag daily. “The rats will gnaw their way through”, she’ll start. Then snakes will come in, monitor lizards too. Maybe crocodiles with sharp teeth, I thought. Horrified. My brothers’ ears prick up at that. They thought to themselves, we could capture and keep these as pets. We could capture, use them to form a circus. We could capture and use it to terrify Dee Dee then cook it for her dinner. So they chose to watch the going-ons at the “hole” instead or playing war games with their friends. After a week of mindless waiting, the boys soon give up. Craggy tom cat, Sg. Bakap. Photo by Doris Lim I would only go into the kitchen and use the toilet if my sisters or Mother accompanies me. One day, I cried and demand that my potty be placed in the living room. The “hole” looks large and loom...