Don't Look Back in Anger

On September 9, 2026, Oasis: Don't Look Back in Anger opened in theatres.

That same day, Piwat and I had a huge argument.

I was so upset that I didn't want to speak to him. For the next few days, our conversations were reduced to the bare minimum. He knew I was angry. But I wasn't giving him any room to talk.

By Sunday, September 13, I had already made up my mind. We were going to have separate Sundays. I would do my thing, he could do his.
But as he -not knowing about my plan- was getting ready for church, he casually told me he'd bought us tickets to see the Oasis documentary.

I didn't react particularly well.

In fact, my reaction irritated him so much that we almost cancelled the whole thing. 

But there was one little person who had a very different agenda.

Aksara had overheard that if we went to the movie, she would get three glorious hours at HarbourLand.

And there was absolutely no way she was letting that opportunity slip away because her parents were having an argument.

So, off we went. First, to church.

Now, I know that going to church should probably have been the beginning of the end of my silent treatment. But the truth is, I wasn't ready to forgive him.

We were late to the mass and missed the readings. But arrived just in time for the homily. And, of course, it was about forgiveness.

The priest spoke about Peter asking Jesus how many times he should forgive someone who had wronged him. Seven times? Surely seven was already quite generous.

But Jesus answered, seventy times seven.

In other words, stop counting.

Forgiveness is not supposed to come with a limit. It is not a transaction, or a tally of how many times someone has disappointed us. We are called to extend the same mercy that God has so generously extended to us.

I swallowed hard.

Because I understood what the priest was saying. I just didn't particularly want to hear it that morning. 

When Mass reached the sign of peace, Piwat and I turned towards each other.

And we hugged. I couldn't quite let go. 
Not of him. And not entirely of my anger, either.

We entered the cinema later that day, and I was still carrying some of that anger with me.

Then the film began.

And suddenly, there we were. Manchester.

The music, the crowds, the nostalgia, that peculiar magic of Oasis. The way a band can take you back to  a particular time and place. I was absorbed.

And then, somewhere during the Manchester part of the film, a priest appeared, delivering a homily in a church.

He was talking about Peter.

Asking Jesus how many times he should forgive his brother.

Seventy times seven.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

The very same Scripture.

The very same message.

Only a few hours earlier, I had sat in church, wrestling with those words. And now, here they were again, in the middle of an Oasis documentary, of all places.

As the film unfolded, the priest's words returned, interwoven with the story of Noel and Liam Gallagher. Two brothers who had spent years estranged, finding their way towards accepting each other again.

The priest spoke about how refusing to forgive can become a prison of our own making. How we carry bitterness, anger, and shame, and how those things can stop us from moving forward.

Forgiveness doesn't necessarily mean forgetting what happened.

It means choosing to look forward, rather than back.

And there it was.

Don't Look Back in Anger.

I cried.

I cried as I sang along to the song I've known for so many years. A song I'd sung countless times without ever attaching quite this meaning to it.

Suddenly, it meant something entirely different.

What I thought would be a documentary about one of the greatest bands of my generation had become a story of redemption. Of bridges rebuilt. Of old grudges finally being put aside.

And somehow, in that cinema, the story of two brothers finding their way back to each other became a story about my husband and me.

I looked at Piwat.

There we were, sitting side by side in our so-called Honeymoon seats.

We hugged again.

And I thought about how strange love is.

How you can be so angry with someone, so disappointed, so determined not to give in. And yet, when you finally hold them, you realise how much you want to keep holding on.

Of course, this doesn't mean that everything that upset me suddenly disappeared.

There are still things we need to talk about. Things that will probably irritate me again tomorrow. And I'm quite certain Piwat and I will have another argument again. 

We are, after all, two imperfect people who have chosen to spend our lives together.

And as Noel said about Liam, despite all his huhuhaha, he's a delight.

I suppose I could say the same about my husband.

He can drive me absolutely mad.

But he is also, quite often, a delight.

Perhaps that's what I took home that Sunday.

I went to church that morning unwilling to forgive.
I entered the cinema still holding on to my anger.
And I came out reminded, twice in one day, that love asks us to do something extraordinarily difficult.

To stop keeping score.

To extend grace.

To look forward.

Sometimes, God knows us well enough to realise that if we don't quite listen to Him in church, He might just have to send Noel and Liam Gallagher to tell us again.

Don't look back in anger.

I'm trying not to.

There's No Killer Queen in "Bohemian Rhapsody" movie

Rhapsody trailer is so promising, but the film doesn't meet the expectation it sets. It's good enough to tell the story of the band's success and the price it had to pay. But the problem is all those meticulous recreations seem to ring hollow.

Sasha Baron Cohen was initially appointed to play Freddie Mercury, and he wanted to get into the nitty-gritty of Freddie's life (and debauchery). But the (remaining members of ) band wished to protect their legacy, and they wanted a movie that the mass could enjoy. A PG-13.

Well. That explains why the film seems like a summary of Freddie's life and quoting movie critic Kong Rithdee "a bullet-point presentation of key moments, without angles or attitude, without ambition or even style."

Freddie Mercury lived an extreme life. He was a Parsi immigrant, grew up in a religious family, a bisexual man, that became an icon of British music.
And Bohemian Rhapsody as told by Leslie-Ann Jones, the writer of Bohemian Rhapsody: The Definitive Biography of Freddie Mercury, it was Freddie's confession. It was about how different his life could have been, had he just been able to be himself. The song was a masterpiece, it was so intricate and had so many layers, but yet the message it contained was poignant and straightforward.
Freddie Mercury had to carry on the charade about being straight, and he had to kill himself so his real self could live forever, even though only in the song.

"Bohemian Rhapsody" is entertaining but sadly, is hollow.

Freddie was a generous soul, and he was mercurial, he was wild, unbelievable and utterly inspiring.  He certainly deserves better than this.

P.S. Rami Malek performance is Oscar-winning. Unfortunately, the movie is not.

Labor Power

This is a long due post. Even though the issue that triggered me to write has passed but I found that the thought is still relevant. So I decided to post it.

Last week (circa the end of 2014)  thousands of blue-collar workers marched through the central area of Jakarta adding nightmares to Jakarta's severe traffic gridlock, and creating a stream of cursing on Facebook timeline. The laborers went on a strike. They demanded an end to the cheap labor scheme and an increase in the minimum wages.

The rally was supported by an example of a laborer's monthly living cost breakdown that stirred up controversies in social media. At the most, people (read: my Facebook friends) were disagreed. They felt that the standard of living the laborers wanted was too much.

Mush-a-boom

grown in a small balcony

 

A couple weeks ago, I went to a farm market here in Bangkok. It's funny how farmer's market has shifted the meaning to a fancy market or a hipster market. Anyway, it was fun. I had a great time looking at high quality (and a bit pricey) home made / home grown food. Amongst many healthy and organic stuff, one thing that caught my attention the most was a shop that sold "Mushroom growing kit." The shop owner encouraged people to eat more mushrooms because they are delicious, easy to grow and good for our health. Sounds great, doesn't it? So, I picked four bags of grow-your-own-mushroom kit. To be honest, I wasn't confident when I put the mushroom on our balcony. Because they would get exposed to the scorching sun, and I think mushroom loves a damp and dark place, like under the shadow of a gigantic tree in the rain forest. I've seen Piwat's mom grew mushroom in her bathroom, and it made me feel awkward whenever I did my "business" in her bathroom. Well, then balcony it was.

Homebound

The weather was totally gorgeous today. The wind blew breezy and rather cool air while the sun was bright but not scorching. So, we agreed this is a perfect time for some seafood -I've been craving for mussel in white wine sauce since we had the super delicious ones at Cannes. But, of course, going to a fish market at 1 pm is not a clever move. All the mussels were gone, luckily there were still scallops left for us. Sure, why not? We love grilled scallop with garlic & butter, and it's oh so easy to make.

you and me and the world at large

at Seine River

After being away from our home for three weeks, I begin to believe that every couple, whether they are married or not, should go traveling to new places at least once a year. I've traveled alone, I've traveled with my family and friends, and I've traveled with Piwat. And for me, the best way to travel is to travel with someone who's always near in presence with us (that means we are comfortable enough to stay close to that person.) I'll tell why.

fragile

Do you think love has an expiry date?

Maybe Baby

Since we got married, I've been asked many times about baby. Honestly, the questions don't bother me. I think sometimes people just need to have a conversation and when marriage is the new big thing in my life, maybe having a baby is what people think appropriate to ask about. It's like, so now you've in the marriage level, when are you going for the next one? I don't know. I honestly don't know.

iMHO

On my first birthday as his wife, Piwat gave me an invisible birthday present in advance. He told me that he would buy me the best iPhone, yet. iPhone 5, at this moment. I appreciate his love. But, I am a very indecisive person and I couldn't figure out if it's worth to change my iPhone now. Anyway, you know the formality of Apple products and New Year. We decided to put my name on the waiting list. At least we bought time for me to make a decision.

Well, honestly, I've been subtly (note: my subtle is never subtle) telling Piwat that I want an new iPhone. But, sometimes, my mouth let out words that haven't got approval from my brain. So, I came up with a made-up story that I benefit from our culture difference. I told Piwat that in Indonesia, the custom is for a husband to give a present for his newly wedded wife. The present represents his hope for their marriage. He bought it. So, I went further. I told him that the key to a successful marriage is communication. He finally realized where I was going to. I told you, I was subtle. 
Piwat thought I wanted the iPhone enough to come up with that non-sense. 

One fine day

What makes a Saturday special?

Waking up to mint-fresh kisses, having a light healthy brunch and kayaking. 

You know those sweet newlywed days? I hope they will never fade.

I was a bit sulky this morning. Maybe the rainy and cloudy Jakarta weather reached me.

So my husband put his best effort to bring the sun close to me.

He made a brunch from whatever available in our refrigerator.

I rolled over from the bed, showered and I smelled something good.

the pre-wedding gaga

It’s been 26 days since I became a wife and everything about my wedding is still as surreal as ever. I still don’t know how I really feel about it. It seemed like I walked into a twirling twister, got spinned and survived. I remember laughing, feeling anxious and nauseous, excited and nervous. I knew that it wasn’t exactly turning out like what I imagined; but I think perfection only exists in the head.  The  photographers haven't got back with the photos. My gown is still hanging, I need to send it to a proper laundry. The exhaustion and the tension are slowly fading away and the happiness is certainly taking the shape.