Notes from Under The Duvet

Like a defeated and wounded soul, I crawled under my duvet, willing the doom and gloom to go away. It had been a few days hibernating but common sense eventually prevailed as I realised not much would change had I gone out marching and screaming in the streets. Nor would I achieve anything by lying comatose under the duvet contemplating the cracks in the ceiling.

Yes, I have been quite affected by recent events in Gaza, not helped by stories of job cuts and recession nearer home. But life has to go on and today – I will brave the freezing temperatures and start work in the cold wide world again.

These last few days, taking refuge in the bedroom, I found solace in several books that took me to pre-war, pre independence Malaya, and one about life in the docks of Liverpool in the early nineteenth century. I read and digested the written words like I had never done before and finished four books, including The Hindi Bindi Club!! That I consider an achievement, especially when I only picked up the books since the beginning of the year. And I do intend to cultivate this newfound hobby.

But sometimes, as the words got blurry, the mind began to wander and I began to reflect on life. These last few days, the two youngest came crawling into bed and under the duvet with me. It has been some time since the last time they did that. Once we’re done with fighting over the duvet and kicking off cold feet, all of us settled down to our favourite books. No more reading to them Thomas the Tank Engine or My Little Pony. Nona devoured “The Crusades Through Arab Eyes” while Taufiq continued his revision in preparation for his coming exams. The hubby? Well, he is probably tucked under a warm duvet in a bed all to himself in Geneva after a long day at work.

The day he left for Geneva, we decided that we should go with him to Gatwick, just to see him off, just to take that train journey and enjoy a bit of almond croissant and piping hot tea. It was snowing ever so slightly the morning he left, and the south London that whizzed past , looked like it had been sprayed with silver dust overnight.
It was Sunday morning when we took the 0847 from Victoria and had a whole coach to ourselves. And by the time he arrived Geneva, we were already back in the house, enjoying prawn noodles.

I had taken to doing some work in the comforts of the bedroom as well – long cables and wires trailing from downstairs to my laptop just above the duvet. This had caused not a little worry among the children and hubby – who before departure had made me promise to do some exercise, take vitamins and avoid fried stuff, to which I duly nodded like any obedient wife would.

So two days ago, to lure me out of my den, son number one brought back a surprise – a Wii Fit Balance Board, which I must admit I took to, like a duck to water. After several step exercises ,a jogging session with my friendly female instructor, I am now suffering from cramps. It is quite rewarding to be told that “Kak Teh, you are doing well today!” It is certainly better than jogging on the frozen ground through the park.

Melancholy is fast seeping in again as I watched the two older ones packing for their trip to Malaysia today. Gone were the days when they tagged along with us. Now they want to explore the country themselves, get to meet and know relatives without us, protective and anxious parents hissing “Salam!” and “Cium tangan!” or “Tunduk!” when they meet older relatives.

The house is suddenly quiet after Hafiz closed the door behind him, pulling his luggage and disappeared in the fog. Rehana leaves much later today and I now await the return of my husband before I made treks to work.

Kak Teh's other duvet moments:

Snowflakes and P Ramlee on Easter