I try my best to understand. To speak to them only when required coz for some reason them being older makes them too cool for small talks. I tried my best not to offend. To respect. But I guess something mustve gone wrong somewhere and I reached a point where I realize that perhaps it's not going to work. I've been pretending and lying to myself thinking that I've got it in me to wear my dad's shoes.

Lost my cool. Raised my voice. Broke my heart. I hate people who break hearts.

Probably the reason why I'm not into marriage mode despite it being encouraged and despite me being envious of parents with children at the mosque for terawih prayers is because of the fear that someday, my kids would grow up hurting me and my wife's feelings like how I'm feeling right now.

Fear prevents me from doing things. Lots of things.

3 hours with a child

It was around 8 pm when the next door neighbour knocked on our door to drop off his son. The father had to leave for work while the mom will only reach home at around 11.30pm. Apparently this babysitting arrangement started this week while I was away in camp.

The kid was probably in K1. He came with a bag stuffed with a writing book, two storybooks and some toys. My twin brothers aren't exactly fans of kids - one went into hiding in mom's room and later fell asleep, the other hiding behind his phone. My mum had to alter some pants for the neighbour upstairs and left me to entertain the kid.

We read a book.

He spelled the words. He could spell pretty well. Couldn't read though. "Around the house, the fox chased the mouse..," I read. He repeated after me.

"Show me the house." He pointed the house to me. "House dalam bahasa Melayu apa?" I asked.

"House dalam bahasa Melayu.... rumah!" He replied.

"Around tu apa Sheldon? What is the meaning of around?" 

"Around tu...."

I took a biscuit container and told him to imagine it to be the house. I then took a car and a fire engine and told him to imagine it to be the mouse and fox respectively. And then the fox chased the mouse around the house.

"Chase dalam bahasa Melayu apa Sheldon?"

"Chase dalam bahasa Melayu kejar-kejar."

I then pointed to the tree on the page and asked him what that is. "Tree," he said.

"Tree dalam bahasa Melayu tu apa?"

"Tree dalam bahasa Melayu tu pokok."

"Bird dalam bahasa Melayu tu ........ burung."

"Sheep dalam bahasa Melayu tu ....."

"Kambing," I prompted.

"Spider dalam bahasa Melayu tu ......"

"Labah-labah," I prompted.

He then pointed to the spiderweb and asked what spiderweb is in Malay.

I replied, "Spider web dalam bahasa Melayu tu .....Spider web dalam bahasa Melayu tu .... entah eh! Abang pon tak tau."

It went on until  the last page. I don't remember reading a book to a small kid before. Should I have kids some day, I wonder if i have the time or the patience to read a book to them - to teach them how to spell, read, write and recite, and translate. Would I have time to show them around? - to show them the field and explain to them what the field is, what the field is in malay, the many creatures that can be found in the field. Would they be interested? Would they be inquisitive? Would they be close to me if  I spend most of my days at work?

Gosh! I still think too much!

Later I asked him to recite the English alphabet followed by numbers. Not bad. I then asked him if he knew "Aleef, Baa, Taa". He gave a blank face.

I went to Google Play Store and searched for arabic alphabets for kids. I pointed at the first letter and asked,

"Sheldon tau ni huruf apa?"

And when I concluded that he has never been taught the arabic alphabets, I went through it with him. It's amazing the apps that can be found in the store. One touch on the letter in the screen and one could hear the letter being pronounced. He touched, listened and repeated after the voice. He swiped to the next letter, touched, listened and repeated after the voice. I then wrote the first four letters of the Arabic alphabets and instructed him to write lines.

"Write from left to right," I reminded him each time he wrote huruf baa, taa, saa from right to left.

We then watched Youtube videos of kids reciting Surah Al-Faatihah. I recited a verse in parts and he repeated after me. Secretly I was jealous of the voice some of the kids had in the videos.

Soon it was 1130pm. His mom came to pick him up. Finally some rest, peace and quiet. Not long after, I fell asleep in the living room.

It was kinda tiring entertaining the kid from next door as he waited for his parent to come back home from work. I tried to make him tired by making him spell, read, write and recite but the kid had too much energy. I even tried to make him sleep by tucking him in on the sofa bed in the living room and pretended to fall asleep. Nothing seemed to work. The kid seemed to want attention. When he doesnt gets any, he would quietly play with his toys or just walk around aimlessly like a lost child.

I then remembered the amount of endless attention I received from my aunt, my grandma, my parents. I then realized that even up till today, I crave for their attention. For some reason, during the duration of his stay, I tried my best to keep him engaged. For personally, I know the effects that attention and love may have on a child.

The Bonus

My first bonus. It's been nearly 8 months since my first day of work. I'm ever so thankful to so many people who've helped me grow throughout the years. Yet at the same time, I feel ashamed that I can't bring myself to say thank you to them. I feel afraid that my thank you or simple gifts would not be enough to match their contribution to my life.

I realized that although I've been providing the family financially, I haven't been doing my job as a "father". When I received news that bonus will be deposited into the bank soon, I wondered if there's anything I could do different.

This wonder led me to a couple of bookstore that very day after work. Deep down, I knew I wanted to gift my mother, sister and brothers a gift that is tangible - a book that I hope each of them would one day flip open and read. May Allah move all our hearts to read and put to practice the things we read.

Hidden in an envelope, between the pages of the book, is their share of the bonus. Their reactions were similar - surprised that I handed them a book each instead of simply cash. Pleasantly surprised to find the envelope in their respective books.

Throughout this process, I realized that after all these years, I still find it hard to express my feelings. For instance, on my sister's book "Don't be Sad", I wanted to write her a note which says:

"Your current pursuit for a degree will insyaAllah encourage our twin brothers to consider pursuing a degree as well. In this pursuit, there's bound to be difficulties - but do not be sad. In this pursuit of ours towards a better future for ourselves and to make Mama happy, let us not forget that everything comes from Allah.

Make dua for me and my future... (add a short dua so that I'll find a pretty and humble wife soon!)"

I wanted to write notes on the remaining books too but I decided not to - for fear that it might sound too cheesy or too sweet. Perhaps next time. As I regret not writing those notes, I realized that I could move forward by writing little notes on a blank envelope before putting their monthly allowances in and giving it to them. It could be a quote, a hadith, or my own little words. Perhaps.

Eid 2012

Eid this year felt different from previous years. Everyone seemed more mature in thoughts, more patient with faults and flaws. More analytical too, it seems. Overheard from my bedroom my brothers and sister giving Mama an analysis of herself based on their observations. I later joined them to balance out their viewpoints. Bottomline: Each of us are unique individuals with our own unique strengths and flaws. We're meant to complement each other, not to make the other be like us.

Mama turns 60 in a week's time and she has hinted that she wants a gift - something that hasnt happened for a very long time. The last gift I bought her was an eraser from the school bookshop - it was designed like a lipstick and smells like strawberry. I really thought she'd like it - me being a little kid buying something for someone. But to my surprise, and disappointment, I was scolded for wasting my money. On hindsight, looking at myself now, I mustve been traumatised by the way she reacted and never bought her anything for her birthday (as well as anybody else's).

She added that since all of her children are all working full-time or part-time, we could get her something for her 60th.

I wonder what we should get, and how much it should cost. A couple days back, she did say that she liked the swarovski bracelet my aunt was wearing. hmm.

Children

A trial indeed. A trial that I fail to conquer. The mother has always been the patient one, never giving up. But I on the other hand, have less tolerance to raised voices and disrespect. I admit that everyone ain't perfect, ain't free from flaws. But really, to reduce the status of a mother to that of friends whom you can talk down to is a little too much for me to handle. Words do hurt and each time I feel like clenching my fists, I take a step back and breathe. I rather walk away and let you do as you please, even if that makes me an irresponsible brother who walks away from a responsibility.

Life's not always rosy. I can never dream of starting a family of my own until I can handle the little challenge at home.

Funny, she sounds like me

Studying for exams usually makes the brain dead. It kinda sucks the life out of life. You look at your lecture notes and past year papers, trying to understand and make sense of things. Repeated attempts does not make you smarter. Time run out. You sit for the exams. Life resumes when everything ends and ends as soon as your results are out. The cycle has been repeating for the past sixteen years. I, have not lived.

Anyway, Mum's wisdom. She says she talks to my brothers about things, that includes issues her friends are facing when dealing with children, to see how they react and respond. If their response is wise and mature, she's comforted. If their response isn't, then she'll try to educate/influence/persuade them into looking at the matter from different perspectives - like from the perspective of a mother, for example.

Funny, coz she sounds just like me.

Love

To show Mama that I love her, I'd do what she wants me to, to listen to her, to avoid what she dislikes, to talk to her when I can, to make her happy, to make her proud. To show my sister I love her, I'd nag at her, and argue about things, and saying things that frustrates her. To let my brothers know that I love them, I'd tell them that I sayang them, I'd ruffle their hair, try to make small talks with them, watch soccer with them, help wash their plates, and stuffs.

Love, you're complicated.

If you're reading this ....

Please start learning how to respond and react accordingly to the people around you especially when they're your elders. Only when you demonstrate the ability to respond and react will you start seeing the people around you respond and react to you.

You can't have things your way. There's a way to get things going your way. And to pack up and leave is not the way. That's as good as you flushing the 22 years of heart, blood and sweat that your parents gave to raise you down the toilet.

Watch your words, in moments of anger. Words, when said can never be taken back. Think thrice before speaking your mind. The word sorry is depreciating in value, fast.

May Allah makes us all better parents and children.

Thoughts

Sometimes,
little events,
little little things that people say,
jokingly or not,
mostly jokingly,
but you know I feel about jokingly,
that it often always mean seriously subconsciously,
blurted out unknowingly,
but obviously,
to me.

Most time,
I'm wrong. But who cares?
No one does, coz if they do,
wouldn't they have watched what they say,
or do?

Yeah,
these little things,
make me retreat into my dark little cave and hide for days, weeks;
Sighs,
7 days of not writing usually means,
no thoughts, lots of thoughts,
kept all to myself.

Things are all fine,
and happy,
and dandy,
but for how long,
can one hide behind a facade,
behind one mask,
after another mask,
after another mask,
you get the idea.

Be calm,
prayers,
give good advice,
a pure mind,
a pure heart,
but then we fall,
and hide in our caves,
ashamed,
because we find it so hard to be good,
because we question ourselves,
by asking questions like why try so hard to avoid music,
when many others are not,
coz afterall, there's nothing wrong,
right?

Frankly,
I don't know,
for music, I,
just hate it when it gets stuck in the head,
hate how it distracts me,
how not listening to music for a fair while suddenly,
made me click on one link after another,
and another,
like as though,
I'm in total control,
I'm free,
to do as I please,
but really I'm not,
coz I consistently think about the can, cannot, better not to,
and so on.

And how I miss conversations,
and talking,
and how I fear talking,
all because of the little things,
the little little things that people always say,
or do,
without,
thinking about how,
the other person might feel,
or do,
as a result of what they say,
or do.

I really do.

Thoughts,
they get pretty circular sometimes,
most times in fact,
and when they do,
that's when I know,
I'm ending.

They are but a trial

"Your wealth and your children are but a trial, and Allah has with Him a great reward."

(Quran 64:15)

Freedom

Your elder brother is as good as dead.
The freedom you seek, take it.

Today, I question the role of the father, a mother, a brother and the child in the family. Is the parent and the child equal? Does being the father equates to automatic respect of the child? Does the child have the right to disrespect the elders? When does a child stops asking for permission? What right does a parent have to impose their decision on the child?

I gave it some thought and my arguments became circular. The breaking of a family unit, to me, is a calamity. I've always generalised that single-parent families tend to be problematic. While I do not intend to self-prophecise my generalisation, sometimes, some things are just beyond our control

No kind of calamity can occur, except by the leave of Allah: and if any one believes in Allah, (Allah) guides his heart (aright): for Allah knows all things. (64:11)

Disappointed

.....

The Talk Part 2

I was walking home from school this quiet dark night. And I tried to picture myself walking. I tried to imagine the person I would see. And I tried to imagine the person others see.

I had called to inform my mum that I was hungry and as expected, food was on the table as soon as I reached home. The first thing she asked was how my oral presentation went. As I sat at the dining table, she told me that my sister had something to tell me. Thank god it wasn't the "Someone proposed to me and I said yes" kind-of-something.

Mama then went on to talk about the brothers and how they were this and how they were that and what I think she should do to handle them. Having just got back from a talk, I gave a talk of my own. I knew I've definitely irritated my two brothers who were watching tv - while listening to me and Mama talk. Haha!

I then went over to them and asked, "Was I irritating?"

The answer was a resounding yes.

No kids love hearing parents go on and on about how they should behave and what they should do. This, is one aspect of parenting that I hate the most whenever she "forces" me to wear my dad's shoes. My approach, for now, is to let them hear my thoughts out loud whenever the opportunity arises. And I pray that one day, they'll grow up and see things the way I do.

As soon as I was done eating, all I said was, "Oh no, do I have to..." and Mama interrupted by saying, "Just leave them there. I'll wash it."

I smiled. I smiled not because I didn't have to wash the dishes (I'm not that lazy), but because of the love that lingers in the house. The kind of love that we show in our weird little ways.

The Talk Part 1

Today was the last of three sessions but the first that I attended.

A question was asked on how an only son who's recently experienced the loss of his father balances his duty as the head of his family as well as his role as a student. I looked around the guys around me to guess who that guy might be, but to no avail. Guys hide feelings and emotions pretty well. I can only imagine how lost the guy must be feeling right now.

I'm assuming you're close to your mother. And if you are, then fret not. If you aren't perhaps it's about time you should.Your mother, of all people, knows that your priority lies in your school. So please do give your all in your studies. However, do remember that your mother lost her soulmate, her comforter, her listener. So if you come back home after a long day in school one day, and she begins to ask you about school, or talk to you about the attitude of your siblings, about the children of her friends and stuffs that mothers always talk about, listen and talk to her like you would with your girlfriend.

Talk to her enough and you'll see that she'll do whatever it takes to see the family through, at least until you graduate. And when you do graduate insyaallah, please remember to return the favour. Please do not get too caught up with the idea of starting a family of your own too soon. Mothers may say they understand your decision to marry but believe me when I say, they understand and accept that decision of yours - BUT with a very very heavy heart.

Make dua. Ask for guidance. Have patience. Insyaallah, things will fall in place nicely.

There's no such thing as empty promises

Yesterday was the day my brothers got a laptop each. Mama apparently promised to get them one if they get decent grades for their Os. Note to self: Never underestimate your children.

While I may think it may not be necessary for them to have one at the moment, I can't possibly imagine the going-ons in my brothers mind. Excitement perhaps? Motivated? I hope them seeing Mama fulfill her end of the deal will drive them to more success in future.

As expected, the laptops came with a string attached: "Promise me to give your best for the next 3 years." And this time around, it was my mama who quietly hopes that her sons will fulfill their end of the deal, insyaallah.

Grow up, please...

It's been a long long while since I've written something angsty. Perhaps it's coz it's been a long long while since Mama got angry. I do not know why but I seem to have a low threshold for people who are just plain rude and selfish.

If dad was around, people would've behaved. Out of fear or out of respect, who cares. One thing I hate the most is wearing Dad's shoes as the disciplinarian. I'm not the father for goodness sake. I do not do sit-downs and ask you why you do the things you do or why you talk the way you talk. You're not my kid. You're old enough to think and decide for yourself what's good and what's not. You're wise enough to know the things Mama likes and the things she doesnt. But why do you insist on doing as you please? Why do you love to piss Mama off like it's your favourite pastime?

The curfew. The attitude. Just because one's crossed the 21 mark, one's old enough to do as one pleases? Just because one's the sole breadwinner, one has every right to do as one pleases with one's money? So chuck the mother aside coz she's just some old lady who sits at home, cooks, do laundary, wakes up early everyday to make sure we leave home on time for work or school? Or the fool who buys you stuffs when she goes out shopping, gets you the presents for birthdays, makes you soup when you're sick despite all the times you piss her off?

What's so hard about taking care of her feelings? Hadn't it occurred to you that stress won't be good for her? Why so selfish? I know you have feelings too and you have a life of your own too and who is Mama to tell you what you can or cannot do but why can't you put her before yourself?

.....Unless of course you simply can't wait for her to be gone so that you can finally live life to the fullest.

*********

It's sad that some, if not most, of us will only be happy when our parents are anything but parents. I know nobody's perfect but one could at least try. Right?

And I then remembered a question I asked my mother a couple of days ago as I was about to leave home for school. I asked whether someone like my sister will ever change her ways. After a slight pause, she said yes. She believes that it is possible for someone like my sister to change - despite everything. She's always ever so hopeful. The reason why I too am ever so hopeful. Grow up, please....

Dear Diary,

I realized today that Sociology's my cup of tea. Some Lit too. Not History. Sociology of work seems awfully interesting and I love the sociological approach to things in general. So now I'm hoping someone drops HS815: Why We Work - How Work Shapes Our Lives.

On a totally separate note, my brothers have done ok for their O-Levels and are currently at the point where they have to decide which path they should take - the polytechnic route or the junior college route. One moment they're dead certain on going to poly and in another instance, they're thinking that perhaps the junior college route might be an option too. I tried my best not to influence them in any way into thinking that one route is better than the other. My sister, who took the poly route, balanced things out a little by giving her two cents worth. And somehow, I get the feeling that everything's been laid out pretty nicely on the table and the onus now is on my brothers to decide their own future.

One thing I learnt about my brothers is that they are as optimistic as I am. When I told them that only the top 5% of poly students go on to the University, they replied that it's ok. They'll beat the odds. (I don't remember being much of an optimist at their age) I also learnt that they are also looking ahead and thinking about going to the University too. It struck me too that one was considering taking Civil Engineering at the polytechnic and then perhaps end up to where I am now. I guess without me realizing, I have become some what of a role model that my brothers look up to. Despite my complains about them growing up too soon and all, I'm starting to realize that they're growing up to be just like ... me!

I've never pushed them hard to study for their O-Levels yet they manage to get pretty decent scores. One even ended up forth in the entire cohort! And to hear them say "If only I had scored a grade better for this and that" - priceless. Now i pray and hope that they'll come to a decision based on what they feel is best for them.

[This entry sounds more like what someone would write in a diary than on a blog but I don't care. Just this one time, I promise.]

The Idiot...

I had written a long piece. We had just reached Malacca. I was finishing up my LAST sentence when my phone automatically restarted. A little over 1000 words vanished in an instant! Countless kilometers/three hours of thoughts!! I felt like an idiot! I felt like throwing my phone away and never write again. The feeling of losing something that I wrote really sucked especially after I gave so much thoughts and emotions into it. argh!

But I told myself that we learn from mistakes. We should immediately assess the situation and see the next best thing that can be done. I took a deep breath and typed away the last thing I remembered - the final line.

I then retraced my steps and typed the main points of what I wrote. It's been a short but lovely trip. A long day and I'm tired. Therefore, I shall reconstruct my first Nokia E63 piece first thing in the morning.

The next morning,

Looking at the scenery along the NS highway, I can't help but think about things. I'm with mum, my aunt and my uncle on an urgent trip to Malacca. It's been a while since I sat in a car up this highway. Many things have changed since then. The Immigration Checkpoints, the roads, the route, the buildings, the view. But then, I realized that perhaps I'm the one who's changed a lot since then.

It definitely feels weird as I'm writing this entry. Firstly, I've never written anything in a moving car before. Secondly, I've never written an entry when my mama's just beside me. She must be thinking I'm typing one heck of an SMS. Thirdly, the driver's not my dad. Fourthly, I'm the only kid in the car. Fifthly, my siblings are not with me. I'm feeling pretty alone and when I'm alone, that's usually when my mind begins to wonder. Perhaps that's how you sometimes feel.

We just had breakfast and conversation revolved around children and their future. It feels weird to be sitting in an adult conversation. And I'm finding myself sitting in an adult conversation pretty often lately.

My aunt shared something she heard from perhaps the radio. She said parents should never have the feeling of expecting something in return from their children. She added that the responsibility of parents is different from that of the children and that parents should be grateful that their children thinks about them. My mum didn't quite agree but she admitted that looking at today's context, perhaps what my aunt said was true.

Like my mum, I didn't quite agree with what my aunt shared. I think it's my responsibility as child to give back whatever I can to my mum - to just make her happy. Thinking about her just isn't enough. But as I looked at the thoughts I'm currently having - school, stress, results, frisbee, floorball, soccer, my future - I realized I haven't been thinking about my mum much lately. And once I've graduated, I'll most probably be shifting my thoughts to work, stress, the one and marriage so hopefully, I'll remember mum as I think about those things.

It strikes me that parents think about their children ALL the time. The things they do, they do it for us. I hope that us children will do the same for our parents, and in future, our own children.

I'm never one who rewrites the same thing twice so the above is only a fraction of my original piece. For some weird reason, I forgot what came before the final line. Really. Perhaps it's a good thing too that my phone restarted - I was starting to write using more of my heart and less of my brain. Here's the final line:

Ive been told by some that my entries have a voice. And if what they say is true, I hope you know I'm talking to you.

Little things

He was holding 2 pieces of purple notes in his hands.

"Ive got $4 for lunch and dinner," he said to his unemployed twin brother. He must've known I'm within hearing distance. Cheeky.

"Awww," I said as I pulled out my wallet from the back pocket of my jeans. I had 2 pieces of red notes in my wallet. I took one out and gave it to him.

"Thanks!" He smiled.

"Where's my hug? Or at least just a kiss?" I teased him as he left for work.

Time flies.

I remember feeling extremely happy whenever my dad gave me money. Without me asking for it, he would somehow sense that I could use a little extra and would ask if I had enough. And despite me saying that I've enough, he'd dip his hand into the front pocket of the pair of jeans that he'd hang behind the door. And he'll give me whatever loose notes he could find. I've always wondered why he never kept his money in his wallet - notes and coins were always in his pockets.

It never mattered to me how much he gave. To receive something from him, on top of the usual allowance from mama, was enough to make my day. Imagine the number of nuggets I could buy for lunch with an additional $2!

Whenever I feel like I'm wearing his shoes, I'll think about him. And I wish he was still around. Sometimes I wish he was still around so that I could feel younger. Haha!

Dad, if you're reading this .... really, you're making me feel like I'm 52. Not saying you're old but I'm sure you know what I mean. I'm thinking things through alot more than I used to and it's all because of you. I really wish you're here right now coz there's a question that I'd like to ask you...

Suppose there's a girl that you met in school and you really like her even though you don't even know her. Dad, I've gotta tell you first that she's sucha beautiful girl and both you and I know that you're not the most handsome guy around. What would you do? You know, I was thiiiis close to talking to mama about this but somehow, I know she'll tell me to focus on my studies first. How I wish you were still around. You'll always be in my prayers.

Missing you, your son.

Conversations

I was flipping through one the many brochures sent to our home by the various polytechnics. My brothers are currently at one of the many crossroads in life. I was at that crossroad years ago and had chosen the junior college route. My brothers on the other hand however, have ruled out the route I took - having seen me gone through the things I did. As I flipped through the brochure, I wondered how things could be like had I chosen a different path.

"Have you thought about Law and Management offered at Temasek Polytechnic?" I asked my brother.

"Not interested," he replied.

"In that case, you could consider Psychology. Stuffs you see on The Mentalist and Criminal Minds."

"Do you know what's the cut off point for Psychology?"

"8 points," I replied with no hesitation. And I also told him I do believe he's capable of achieving 8 points. He smiled a smile of uncertainty - unsure of what he is capable of achieving in life. I remembered myself being unsure of what I'm capable of back in those days. I was unsure of where to go and the paths I could take. But unlike my brothers, I was alone. I wished I had someone to show me the way - someone like me.

"Are you thinking about studying Engineering? Coz if you do, you might want to think twice. I'm in Engineering but I wish I was somewhere else instead. I just want you to do something that you will enjoy doing. It has to be what you want; Not what I want, not what mama wants and definitely not what your friends want. It has to be your decision. One that you know you won't regret."

But deep down, I know that at their age, one usually doesn't know what one truly wants. Dreams change. And sometimes, they don't even exist.

"I'm not interested in school," he replied half-jokingly. "Can I just make do with an O-level cert?"

How I wish it was possible. Many of my friends had the same thought as my brother. What is the point of going to school? To university? I've seen friends go through depression to the point of quitting - and never wanting to come back to school. I've also seen friends who never completed compulsory education yet they are having the time of their life. If there's anything I could learn, it'll be that there's no fixed way for one in pursuit of happiness.

"You really should consider courses like Law or Psychology. You could be a lawyer or a psychologist. They sound like awesome jobs." I told him as I walked towards my room.

I was just about to sit at my desk thinking about of the story I'm planning to write, I hear my sister asking me, "What about you? What are you going to be when you graduate from University?"

I smiled a smile of uncertainty - just like my brother did - unsure of what I'm capable of achieving. I gave the question some thought.

I don't know, whispered a voice from within the innermost confines of my soul.

I don't know.