Cry Baby

I vaguely remember a saying, “air mata itu adalah senjata bagi seorang perempuan.” (tears are a woman’s weapon?) Apparently a man’s heart will melt upon seeing his beloved’s tears. I don’t know whether the saying applies to other genders (men, he-she, she-he, etc.) as well. Presumably in the old days only women were allowed to cry, hence the specific reference to women. Needless to say, unless your heart is made of stone, you’re bound to be affected when you see someone cries, whether in a positive or a negative way. For example, try as I might to ignore my DD’s cries whenever she launches herself into her ‘manja’ mode, the mother in me just could not allow my dear, poor little baby to wallow in her misery. Aware as I am of the power of a cry, it never occurs to me to use it to my advantage. In fact, more often than not, I feel disadvantaged by my tears. If there’s any old habit that I want to get rid of, crying is close to the top of the list. You see, even at this old age, I’m still a cry baby, though I must say that I have made tremendous improvement over the years. Perhaps maturity (ehem) and wisdom (ehem ehem) have taught me to take many obstacles in life in my strides. In the old days, almost any event can trigger a cry. I cry when I’m happy, I cry when I’m angry, I cry when I’m depressed, I cry when I’m scared and obviously I cry when I’m sad. It’s a wonder how those around me managed to stand me. But then, perhaps it wasn’t too hard for my sisters to put up with me since they themselves were prone to crying too. Apparently hyper sensitivity runs in the family, but somehow it was mostly concentrated in me, perhaps because I had many big sisters to pamper me. I remember one fine Saturday afternoon a long, long time ago when the family converged in the living room to watch a Hindustani movie. Hindustani movie you’d say, what a perfect setting for a heart-breaking and crying session. Anyway, there we were, engrossed with the movie. At that time, I was sitting down on the floor with my then three year-old beloved nephew, Aiman lying down in my lap. The much anticipated tear-jerker moment came and everyone went quiet. I didn’t dare looking at the rest of the audience, in case they’d see the tears welling up in my eyes. I tried my best to control the tears from streaming down my cheeks. I suspected others were trying to hide their tears too. Just then, Aiman asked me innocently and loudly, “Mok Su, bakpo dale mato Mok Su ado banyok air?” (Youngest Aunt, why do you have lots of water in your eyes?” Everybody turned to me. My resolve dissipated and tears flowed freely onto my cheeks. My sisters started crying too but after a short while, we all broke into laughter at the silliness of the situation. I don’t know what the moral of this story is, except perhaps, never hold a young child when you watch a Hindustani movie. A child observes and always tells the truth!