Sidewalk stories

Mrs. Nourma and The Temple of Doom

I welcome you to the world of Mrs. Nourma. She is the mother of four strikingly-distinct sisters. She is an ultimate housewife. A heartbreaking ex-wife. A kind of wife that I, the narrator and her husbands of course, sometimes…just don’t get it. Mrs. Nourma has three husbands. Yes, three. That’s a small number. The first one is an ambassador of the world. He traveled frequently to other planets, living and consuming foreign brands, eating foreign foods and meeting many weird aliens with different shape of heads. They have different ways of thinking, too. Well, too much extraterrestrial ‘intelligence’ on his mind, he expressed it on violence. Mrs. Nourma decided to get back to earth and leave him floating in the milky way. “No problem.” He thought. “I will get that beautiful alien from the planet on sector ZZ 9 Plural Z Alpha.”

Mrs. Nourma continued her journey on earth alone. Did I mention she likes to sing? Well, she likes to sing. Don’t mind the voice, it’s her bravery to sing that never ceased to amaze me and her admirers. Admirers? Yes, bunch of them. In many shapes, different ages, from young to old, from students to freaky old rich man working in the parliament or former secret agent during the cold war. Probably because of her dress, bright colours with ornaments and fringes and what that tiny shiny things catching the eyes of people passing her by? That thing, I’m not into fashion industry so I don’t know the term. Well, that shiny thing has brought her to the second husband, a musician. Long live the musician! He plays in an internationally-recognised orchestra. Like the ambassador, the musician also sometimes travels to out of space, although they both have never met and thanks Zeus they will never meet. Mrs. Nourma and her new husband play together in a newly-formed harmolodics band, celebrating those love ballads about their destiny to meet each other. Music has wiped the ambassador off of Mrs. Nourma’s head. No more love left for other people than the musician and his musics. The musician, he’ll play all night. Sometimes he forgets home but that’s all right. That’s all right, always all right. Mrs. Nourma still sings, from club to club, from pub to pub, from festivity to festivity. She’s getting so ambitious. Be careful Mrs. Nourma, I have warned her. Don’t climb too high without knowing the ropes, you might fall.

Here comes the third husband of Mrs. Nourma. He’s a superbly rich civil engineer. Bah, civil engineer. The civil engineer stole Mrs. Nourma from the musician while the second husband was not vigilant enough on his wife’s activities. He suddenly realised, there’s something fishy between the two so-called friends. Mrs. Nourma tried to find reasons to get the three final signatures. The musician is like a…I can’t find the right analogy at this moment, but he stood firmly protecting his love to Mrs. Nourma. They went through seas of storms and disasters and thousands of rainbows and hells and heavens and this and that and these and those and smiles and frowns but! Never ever had crossed his mind of getting divorce.

The civil engineer is so full of tricks, he had grown up in a family full of tricks. Bad tricks. Okay, rich but tricky. That’s what he is. Long strategy of tricks of how to get Mrs. Nourma from the musician is mapped robustly in his head like the Singapore’s master plan of land reclamation. Whatever the result on others the projects will be done! The civil engineer kidnap her! He even took the youngest daughter, the pure sweet baby! Mrs. Nourma loves adventures, indeed. She is like the female Indiana Jones in a love adventure but with the same title: Mrs. Nourma and The Temple of Doom. Aha, I’m always able to find analogies for her. Now she still enjoys her life with the civil engineer….until probably her intrepid blood boiling again. Mrs. Nourma and The Last Crusade, perhaps? Coming soon. So far, the end.

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