The Little Women

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Chickenary

“Chickenary = where chicken equals self-resiliency.” Chicken = Resilient. Why? How? In this piece, the chicken sees itself in two different ways. One as a question mark and second as a statement. I am a bird but I can’t fly, why? why? why? I endured every food-processing process, yet I still emerge as a chicken—resiliently, deliciously & wonderfully. The first one leans heavily unto self doubt because of the so many whys (and the answer is really, up to our God’s above) and the second one is one strong statement filled with self pride. As mundane as you think a chicken is, it has been an irreplaceable food of choice on our table, right? The chicken might undergo a temperature so low it becomes frozen chicken and so high it becomes grilled chicken. Some chicken even has rendang paste mixed; then stirred for hours until it becomes rendang chicken. But my point being that they are still chicken, through and through from beginning till the end. Its resiliency persists toward anyth...

Isn’t He Sweet

Oh isn’t he sweet Falling back asleep as soon as mama’s hand touches his, And sleeping soundly on mama’s shoulder for 10 hours straight with little to no break (😂) Then husband said “That’s not healthy, you should be able to move when you want to move.” As if he doesn’t see him scoots when I scoots. So the bladder’s full on most nights and when I’m finally able to release they usually accompanied by strings of heartfelt cries But he is sweet, really. My wonderful boy who laughs with the biggest laugh and giggles with the biggest smile. Whose heart as big as the ocean and love just as deep; whose eyes flicker with excitement & curiosity & wonder. You’ve taught me more than I taught you, truly. I’m forever grateful, baby. Forever in love with you and also, I’m forever yours. And this piece’s written by yours truly, mama. Ananda Khaira Azizah, Pekanbaru, October 25th. Written on 6pm on a Saturday.

Something Beyond Compare

Did you notice that lots of your friends are moving to a different space, all on a different pace? It’s becoming more and more apparent now. Some of my friends go to residency, some steps into a serious spousal relationship and the other march into parenthood. They’re on a different pace so why do we compare ourselves to them? You’re clearly not on the same starting line. You see, comparison is one toxic trait that I hate so much because I grew up bearing it. It first came from other people until I am eventually old enough to do it myself. It crushed me and my self esteem. I can’t seem to comprehend that there’s no one size fits all. All of the whys and the believe that my choice is wrong and they are right; that my ticket to happiness has to be the same as everyone else’s. But no, my ticket to happiness is very different from them. Me with my thoughts & my feelings along with my experiences want something more. Something deep rooted into your soul that brings you immens...

People’s Constitution of Selves

So I listened Sara Bareilles “She Used To Be Mine” repeatedly this morning (she’s such a great singer!) but here’s the interesting part: I’m drawn to her chorus, yet the rest of the song doesn’t resonate with me as much. I can relate very much with “She’s imperfect but she tries etc.” but the part where she talked about the unplanned pregnancy is hard to relate to because my pregnancy is very much different, you know? Mine is a very expecting & joyful one. Then it dawned on me how our experiences can really altered how we see the world. Like my husband will never understand the hard story of my family dynamics because he never went through the same experiences as I do. No matter how hard I try to explain it to him. Our story only resonates to those with similar experiences as we do. That’s why one whole song listened by millions of people in the world translates into different meanings to each and every one of them. I think what I want to tell you here is that we shall not be too q...

A Cocoon

I’ve built him a cocoon Where inside, he’ll feel as safe as a clam. That inside, even though it’s dark he’ll be comforted by it instead of getting scared, Even though he’s alone he will never feel lonely, and even though he’s cold he will never feel the cold. He will hear his own heartbeat like a ticking clock; beating slowly, steady and sure. Inside he’ll learn that his anger is fine, his big upset is fine and even tantrums are fine, too. Inside he will learn that he is fine. Then eventually he’ll emerge confident, secure and safe. He’ll emerge as lovely as he always be. Ananda Khaira Azizah, Pekanbaru, 27 Oktober 2025. Written on 5am on a Monday.

The Shift

So I wrote another piece just now and the piece require some arrangements to make it flows better. It’s not a rephrase but literally a change in the sentences stance and it made massive difference! It amazes me so much that I start to dwelve deeper into it and something even more amazing arise. I realized that the experience just now represent a perspective shift. Perspective : “A particular attitude toward or way of regarding something; a point of view.” The “POV” point is the icing on the cake here. Your narratives might not be that good but by changing your point of view it will be way better, right? Like my writings just now, the moment I rearrange the sentence it change the whole paragraph; something that will eventually leads to changes of the whole story. You can coupled that with acceptance that I talked with my friend last night. So I really think that POV rearrangement + acceptance is the key to a more manageable lives. What do you think? Ananda Khaira Azizah, Peka...