Friday, March 27, 2009
The Weekend Family Man
So there he is- with his weekly weekend routine. Church, family outings, lunches and dinner with his parents and respectable friends of the religious sort. Week in week out for more than a decade of his married life. His tracks are well covered.
We met under such a frivolous context. Sordid tales of each other we kissed and told. His “real”, normalised life that masked his other life was something I didn't know deep enough. Well, at least for the time we kept our communications purely faceless.
We first met on a Friday. It was during the December festive season. Serrendipituously, he had a real excuse for being out on a Friday night- company staff function. I happened to want to be at the same night spot. I didn't realise that his household had such high religious spirit- cell group meetings were held at his residence. I used to joke about cell group meetings and all and asked in jest if he was part of one and in his serious reply of yes, I was led to this discovery by chance. It was during the second time I was back home in Singapore and our relationship was coming to a standstill. The next morning after that first Friday, he texted me to say that he had a lovely evening and it was in the longest while since he got home past three in the morning.
Saturday weekly church attendance are not to missed and there is Sundays spent with his parents. But the day after we met on a Saturday night where I was at a local pub with some old friends (V and a couple of “young” male friends my age whom I knew since high school), he sent me a text to inform me that he just got home after an outing with his domestics- would I like him to come and join me. I replied if he so wished. I didn't appreciate the extent of his making an appearance but knew he was keen. Again, post the first meeting, I didn't know whether we would meet up again during my three-week holidays back home.
Before I first met him, I had a curiousity about his life. I asked him where he met his girl-next-door wife. Again in my pre-emptive way, I proffered possible answers meant in good humour that he met her in church. I didn't even know he has a religon. His persona was so polygamous and sordid in my imagination that I didn't think he was religiously disposed. Or have religon dominate the theme of his life. Hence, my answer. Then he said yes. Oh my god, I exclaimed and laughed as I typed online. Did he go to church to socialise and prey on the innocently sweet, I asked. I really thought church going was his guise. But obviously, I thought wrong. A few occasions, I brought up the conflict between his religiousness and his polygamy and he would demand that I stop talking about such taboo subjects and brushed it aside. He is a “condemned” man already, he said.
During the initial stage of our relationship, I recalled an occasion where we were out in town, post our rendezvous in our usual hotel. It was a Friday evening.We were having dinner and he was looking uncomfortable and kept strategising about what if he met someone he knew and “whom” I should be if people ask about how we were related. As we were strolling to our next venue, I held his hand lightly as he lit up a cigarette. He said to me casually that if someone were to see him now smoking and holding another girl's hand, it would be a “double sin”. Vocabulary consisting of “sin” reminded me of a God fearing individual and the idea of smoking too, what had that got to do with religion? I slowly began to get a glimpse of his religious inclinations and the influences he grew up with where subtly it must be ingrained in him that he is part of a flock..
The Christmas season is traditionally always busy for a household like his. I recalled that on the evening of Christmas Day, I got him to come and meet me and Dancer. After a few to and fro text messages about it having to be somewhat late, he finally arrived. He had a busy day, he told us. Second baby was baptised in church. Day before, he was involved in the church celebrations in the music ministry, I believe. He told me affectionately that he got some good credit from audience who came up to him and praised his singing voice. Do you think my nose is getting longer, he asked me endearingly. Huh, I replied. Then I realised he meant that he was like Pinnochio- his nose was getting longer from lying to the domestics so that he could extract himself to spend time with me.
I always recall that poignant moment of us in bed. I was tearing and thinking about DL, in pain still after the break up and asked him if he ever felt tormented that he is still alive whenever he wakes up. He nodded sadly. And I demanded when and he paused for a long time, hard to find the words as he repeated “when...” and finally, said yes when I asked him was it in regards to him and his wife. So he doesn't compartmentalise his lives as well as he led me or the rest believe. Perhaps.
Sometimes he tells me about his children if I asked. He is always a boy at heart to me and not so much a daddy. He had a big birthday party for them since they happen to have same birthdays, coincidentally. Big jumping castles, magician and food galore. The drum sticks and musical instruments he bought his older child. The matching sweaters he bought for the two kids in the U.S. The year end family trip to be taken in Vegas. Once, I said he wasn't a good daddy since he is always out during the week with his sordid friends, possibly mistress and playing sports at the club. We were online. He was also interogating me about Koran and me for the umpteenth whilst the household was still asleep. His baby was awaken and he left the child tearing up and chewing up some old newspapers at one corner since he kept crying everytime he put the baby on his lap whilst he tried typing me without the baby interfering on the keyboard. Darling, take the newspapers away from baby or he can get poisoned by the ink, I told him. It's ok, he said. You are not a good daddy, I replied. He got mad and threatened to log off on me. Fine, he would go look after the baby and stop talking to me, he said. A few occasions, it became a sore point whenever I said he wasn't a good father.
I always saw that polygamous and sordid side of him. His involvement with a variety of females of a wide age group. The oldest being his Mistress who is about four years older than me. The other females always seeking him out and vice versa for a good time. Them, the damsels always needing some financial “help” and him giving in to his carnal desires and needs, and sometimes going out of his way as a client to assist them. Always wanting to feel wanted and playing the Robin Hood, the emotionally insecure him. When we were purely friends, I told him how stupid he was.
During my last trip back home, I chanced upon a recent news article where he was featured. I realised he has been involved in some charity work for some years in an improverished Asian country. His community spirit was highlighted. Then there was also the 10% of his monthly salary donated to the church. Again, it was something I asked in jest, which turned out to be true. Appalled I was- told him about the stupidity of his actions because I have some strong views on this one. But most importantly, I know how little he makes to make ends meet these days. Times are bad, got to think for the young kids, I told him. When you are in dire straits, the church isn't going to return to the money or assist you for the money you have handed out to them over the years, I cautioned. But I always knew he has a soft heart. Maybe that's why I love him. Despite everything.
So that's how the Weekend Family Man's life goes. On week days afternoons, he distracts himself between work with rendezvous of company kept by women his community or old wealth anglicised upbringing would have little to do and perhaps more at night. But he is home before midnight. Whilst the illusion, deceptions and distractions of his reel life is really his real life, he knows he has that creature comfort of another Pleasantville life to go home to. Every night. For a long time and will be for an even longer time to come.
So there he is- with his weekly weekend routine. Church, family outings, lunches and dinner with his parents and respectable friends of the religious sort. Week in week out for more than a decade of his married life. His tracks are well covered.
We met under such a frivolous context. Sordid tales of each other we kissed and told. His “real”, normalised life that masked his other life was something I didn't know deep enough. Well, at least for the time we kept our communications purely faceless.
We first met on a Friday. It was during the December festive season. Serrendipituously, he had a real excuse for being out on a Friday night- company staff function. I happened to want to be at the same night spot. I didn't realise that his household had such high religious spirit- cell group meetings were held at his residence. I used to joke about cell group meetings and all and asked in jest if he was part of one and in his serious reply of yes, I was led to this discovery by chance. It was during the second time I was back home in Singapore and our relationship was coming to a standstill. The next morning after that first Friday, he texted me to say that he had a lovely evening and it was in the longest while since he got home past three in the morning.
Saturday weekly church attendance are not to missed and there is Sundays spent with his parents. But the day after we met on a Saturday night where I was at a local pub with some old friends (V and a couple of “young” male friends my age whom I knew since high school), he sent me a text to inform me that he just got home after an outing with his domestics- would I like him to come and join me. I replied if he so wished. I didn't appreciate the extent of his making an appearance but knew he was keen. Again, post the first meeting, I didn't know whether we would meet up again during my three-week holidays back home.
Before I first met him, I had a curiousity about his life. I asked him where he met his girl-next-door wife. Again in my pre-emptive way, I proffered possible answers meant in good humour that he met her in church. I didn't even know he has a religon. His persona was so polygamous and sordid in my imagination that I didn't think he was religiously disposed. Or have religon dominate the theme of his life. Hence, my answer. Then he said yes. Oh my god, I exclaimed and laughed as I typed online. Did he go to church to socialise and prey on the innocently sweet, I asked. I really thought church going was his guise. But obviously, I thought wrong. A few occasions, I brought up the conflict between his religiousness and his polygamy and he would demand that I stop talking about such taboo subjects and brushed it aside. He is a “condemned” man already, he said.
During the initial stage of our relationship, I recalled an occasion where we were out in town, post our rendezvous in our usual hotel. It was a Friday evening.We were having dinner and he was looking uncomfortable and kept strategising about what if he met someone he knew and “whom” I should be if people ask about how we were related. As we were strolling to our next venue, I held his hand lightly as he lit up a cigarette. He said to me casually that if someone were to see him now smoking and holding another girl's hand, it would be a “double sin”. Vocabulary consisting of “sin” reminded me of a God fearing individual and the idea of smoking too, what had that got to do with religion? I slowly began to get a glimpse of his religious inclinations and the influences he grew up with where subtly it must be ingrained in him that he is part of a flock..
The Christmas season is traditionally always busy for a household like his. I recalled that on the evening of Christmas Day, I got him to come and meet me and Dancer. After a few to and fro text messages about it having to be somewhat late, he finally arrived. He had a busy day, he told us. Second baby was baptised in church. Day before, he was involved in the church celebrations in the music ministry, I believe. He told me affectionately that he got some good credit from audience who came up to him and praised his singing voice. Do you think my nose is getting longer, he asked me endearingly. Huh, I replied. Then I realised he meant that he was like Pinnochio- his nose was getting longer from lying to the domestics so that he could extract himself to spend time with me.
I always recall that poignant moment of us in bed. I was tearing and thinking about DL, in pain still after the break up and asked him if he ever felt tormented that he is still alive whenever he wakes up. He nodded sadly. And I demanded when and he paused for a long time, hard to find the words as he repeated “when...” and finally, said yes when I asked him was it in regards to him and his wife. So he doesn't compartmentalise his lives as well as he led me or the rest believe. Perhaps.
Sometimes he tells me about his children if I asked. He is always a boy at heart to me and not so much a daddy. He had a big birthday party for them since they happen to have same birthdays, coincidentally. Big jumping castles, magician and food galore. The drum sticks and musical instruments he bought his older child. The matching sweaters he bought for the two kids in the U.S. The year end family trip to be taken in Vegas. Once, I said he wasn't a good daddy since he is always out during the week with his sordid friends, possibly mistress and playing sports at the club. We were online. He was also interogating me about Koran and me for the umpteenth whilst the household was still asleep. His baby was awaken and he left the child tearing up and chewing up some old newspapers at one corner since he kept crying everytime he put the baby on his lap whilst he tried typing me without the baby interfering on the keyboard. Darling, take the newspapers away from baby or he can get poisoned by the ink, I told him. It's ok, he said. You are not a good daddy, I replied. He got mad and threatened to log off on me. Fine, he would go look after the baby and stop talking to me, he said. A few occasions, it became a sore point whenever I said he wasn't a good father.
I always saw that polygamous and sordid side of him. His involvement with a variety of females of a wide age group. The oldest being his Mistress who is about four years older than me. The other females always seeking him out and vice versa for a good time. Them, the damsels always needing some financial “help” and him giving in to his carnal desires and needs, and sometimes going out of his way as a client to assist them. Always wanting to feel wanted and playing the Robin Hood, the emotionally insecure him. When we were purely friends, I told him how stupid he was.
During my last trip back home, I chanced upon a recent news article where he was featured. I realised he has been involved in some charity work for some years in an improverished Asian country. His community spirit was highlighted. Then there was also the 10% of his monthly salary donated to the church. Again, it was something I asked in jest, which turned out to be true. Appalled I was- told him about the stupidity of his actions because I have some strong views on this one. But most importantly, I know how little he makes to make ends meet these days. Times are bad, got to think for the young kids, I told him. When you are in dire straits, the church isn't going to return to the money or assist you for the money you have handed out to them over the years, I cautioned. But I always knew he has a soft heart. Maybe that's why I love him. Despite everything.
So that's how the Weekend Family Man's life goes. On week days afternoons, he distracts himself between work with rendezvous of company kept by women his community or old wealth anglicised upbringing would have little to do and perhaps more at night. But he is home before midnight. Whilst the illusion, deceptions and distractions of his reel life is really his real life, he knows he has that creature comfort of another Pleasantville life to go home to. Every night. For a long time and will be for an even longer time to come.
