Imperfections are Okay

 My daughter, Abby, stepped into our home and commented, “Gosh, mum, the house smells of dog!” Yes, now that we have moved the mum and puppies into the living room, the place smells of dogs – puppies to be exact. And Raed has moved the day beds from the spare room to next to the dining table – right now, our living arrangement is like what we used to have back in our old home in Kepong – crammed. He brought the day beds down because he has been dog sitting them. A good man, he is.                            

The dry and wet kitchens were spared. But, bringing the puppies and Jodha in meant Power also moved in!

Well, our new home is not perfect to begin with. When we moved into this new township, we just fixed what was needed – electricals and fittings – and brought in other stuff from the old home. Only Abby’s room has all the new stuff like wardrobe, bed, shelf, mirror and a vanity table. But her room does not smell any better either because she has a Pomeranian called Metchy that lives with her!

Everyone loves a beautiful or perfect home. I had done extensive renovations before, at our apartment in Kepong, back in 2010 only to realise that as life changed, those renovations meant nothing, if not waste of money. Abby was given the master bedroom which had an attached bathroom. She was nine at that time. The room with built in wardrobe, leather bed frame from Lorenzo and expensive mattress, also from Lorenzo plus other fittings cost me RM 10K (mind you that was eleven years ago). The rest were spent on dry and wet kitchens – easily RM15K. The size of the apartment was only 962 square feet. Other costs were furniture and electrical items.

So, people who had walked in through the door were so mesmerised that my agent brought potential buyers to my unit to show whenever she wanted to convince them! Folks, I was very proud, indeed.

Years passed. Abby graduated high school and we enrolled her into a university in Cyberjaya. For the first six months she was staying at the hostel of the university. I was in Kepong. Alone, I went to work, came home and did whatever needed, rarely ventured onto the balcony (which was really spacious and had a nice view) or her room, which was pretty locked up as well as into the third room, which we turned into a store room.

Back in 2011, when we moved into this home from a rented home, we had stuff that we wanted to `deal with’ later – those cluttered the third room.

My life was very limited to the wet kitchen, my room and the living room (occasionally, bathroom). The renovations? Like wall flower, looked nice but did not add value and I realised the amount of stuff that I had hoarded only when we started clearing stuff when we wanted to move to our new home – tons and tons and they were hidden cause I had beautiful kitchen cabinets that could hide anything and everything.

Then, Abby moved from the hostel to a one room apartment at Tamarind Suites. Half of my stuff, including the nice sofa went with her plus a new fridge, new set of beds from Ikea (day bed type – the one Raed had placed next to the dining table now that he dog sits at nights), set of crockeries, cooking utensils and you name it.

Abby lived there for a year and you know what? I lived with her, too! Almost half of the one year I was at her apartment at Tamarind Suites, driving to work to my office at Bangsar South daily! The Kepong apartment? The renovations? What renovations?

By 2017 we had started our online fashion store – Bollywood Begum. So, only during the preparation for Diwali collection, I was there. Other times, I lived with her. More so after she adopted Metchy, the Pomeranian. I was more attuned to Cyberjaya than Kepong! Kepong seemed like a distant dream of the past.

You see, as our lives advanced, our priorities changed. When they changed, we realised that money spent on making a place very pleasing to the eye would no longer be worth it. If I had kept the RM32K that I had spent on the Kepong apartment we would have probably afforded a holiday in Europe which Abby and I never had the chance to go for. She travelled far and wide on the eastern side and I had covered almost the globe plus a small part of Europe but did not quite arrive in Austria or other nearby countries which had always been a dream.

What is the different between a nice apartment and a holiday? A holiday is an experience. A nice apartment is an acquisition. Life is about experience. People remember experiences; they give away acquisitions. Every moment in life adds to the dictionary of our life experiences. Everything we buy adds to acquisition which may or may not be useful as our lives progress. When people share, they share experiences. People talk about how they had enjoyed, learnt or just suffered something. Even when they talk about their acquisitions, they talk about the experiences in acquiring them, not about the acquisitions.

I am not alone in this. I have a friend who has a house that is magazine material. He spends most of his free time cleaning the place – one day up, one day down. Other times he is too tired that he sleeps. No, it is not wrong to sleep but what adds to life if we sleep the hours that we can be awake to do something – like a walk in the park, like a stroll round the neighbourhood, catch up with neighbours (with social distancing, of course), start a new hobby, learn something new – whatever. Add experiences to enrich our lives.

One of my most memorable thing in life is the time Abby and I spent at a village in Kumbakonam, India. We stayed at an AirBnB like facility in that temple city. It was called Darshan Homes. You see, we went there because we attended the wedding of the daughter of a priest who was our close friend. One of the things that we still laughed about today is the doorbell of the apartment unit – it had a shrill chant of `Rama, Rama, Rama...!” The first time we heard it, I thought it was Abby’s ring tone. I scolded her and she said, “Ma, kids of my generation will not opt for that kind of ringtone.” And the next time it happened, I looked at her phone – no it was not her ringtone. It was that `unique’ doorbell.

It was during the same trip, we decided to experience the local train. But we were very scared because people might try to intimidate us since we were foreigners. So, I asked our driver to arrange for a guide to accompany us. He was paid Rs500.

Just like in the movies, the train was about to leave, and we ran to catch the train! Like Chennai Express, yaar!! Managed to hop on and the guide found seats for us. You see, those who took the local train were the village folks from surrounding areas. They did not like foreigners. The train was quite full, but there were some seats opposite some college girls who decided to place their feet on those seats! The guide scolded them, and we got the window seats. The train ride from Trichy to Tanjore took almost an hour and a half as the train stopped at all stops and stations en route. It was such a mesmerising sight to pass through green fields filled with crops and once in a while, small villages with huts and people standing and gazing at the passing train.

Inside the train, we met all kinds of people. There was a couple – the husband was a government schoolteacher and his wife a housewife. They struck a conversation with an old lady, who was travelling without slippers and a ticket! She alighted at Darasuram and managed to travel without ticket from Trichy. Her place was taken by a very young girl of about sixteen, who carried a new-born baby – a chubby one. Her husband looked way older than her; probably she had married her mother’s brother, for he was addressing the woman with her as `akka’ (sister). Abby and I played with the baby and when we reached Tanjore, as I left my seat, I took a bangle from my hand and slipped into the young girl’s. She did not have any bangles and she was looking at mine. I wish it was a gold bangle, but we never wore gold when we travelled.

It has been six years since we went to Kumbakonam but the memories and experiences are still fresh in my mind.

Likewise, parenting Jodha and her puppies would also remain for many years in my mind because we sort of started on the wrong footing. First mistake was not preparing a proper whelping box for her. She delivered in her carrier which was very small for the fast-growing puppies. We moved her to another location after a few days. Second mistake was leaving the puppies on the floor at the porch which was not clean at all. The superficial wounds on two of the puppies got infected and became big. So, I applied olive oil and it started healing, only after we moved them into the living area inside the house.

As I type this story, the puppies have not opened their eyes. They are crawling a lot, though. Numbers 1, 2 and 4 are all off-white. No. 3 whom I have named Dubai (well, people have Sydney as name, why not Dubai?) is pure white, female. Third girls are considered lucky, so folks, I am keeping her #notforadoption!

Yes, the living area has lots of fur – Power’s, because he had alopecia since birth. Jodha’s stopped after a few days since she delivered. Just like humans, dogs also lose their coat after giving birth. If you have been following my stories on Melanie, you will know that even she had bad alopecia post-delivery. That was when I first met her. You can read/see more about Melanie in my LinkedIn profile.

As we step on the floor of our living room, it feels kinda sticky, it’s okay. I do mop twice a day. Sometimes, Power brings his toys inside the house to play. That is okay, toys can be put outside again. Life is not cast in stone, but many people do not realise this as they set conditions for themselves.

Changes happen almost every moment in our lives. Most of us have rules which are based on religion, lifestyle, philosophy – you name it – but we often fail to see that life itself has its own flow. It listens to no one, it follows no philosophy, it has no idealisms. It goes where it wants to. One can’t stop the time from ticking. One can’t stop death from happening. One can’t stop the earth from revolving. One can’t stop the universe from anything. No one could stop an accident which is doomed to happen. No one could stop the Covid-19 virus that is ravaging the world now.

Here is a small comparison – when we adopted Power, we picked him up from a place in Semenyih (it was a very long drive, to get there!) which had 28 dogs, not quite well attended to. He was just another puppy who might or might not have been adopted, fed plain rice daily. We adopted Jodha from a family in Setapak. If we did not, someone else would have. But they were meant to be together at our home, in our lives. Had it not been them, life would have flowed another way; any way.

We can see life as perfect when we do things from the heart; it becomes imperfect when we start imposing rules, conditions and limitations. But then again, imperfections are okay, as long as the heart is happy. For now, I am happy the dogs are in the living room and we are taking good care of the puppies. Soon, the puppies’ life will start flowing in their own directions. No one can alter that.

My memories of the dogs have been good despite their mischiefs. I remember Jodha coming to me as I reached home after work, the day she was brought home by Raed and Abby. She sat all alone at the balcony as Abby and Raed watched her, refusing to go near them. As soon as I stepped on to the balcony, she came and sat between my legs, her back towards me and she looked up at my face. I carried her for a good five minutes. It is a memory that I will carry to my grave. During her pregnancy, she had often done the same. When I sat at the porch, she would come and sit between my legs with her back towards me. That is a sign of trust, a sign that she knows I got her back.

Right now, our lives are not perfect. The house smells of dogs, dog fur is on the floor and the floor is sticky. Pretty imperfect but imperfections are okay, if the heart is happy!