The Durian Dilemma

Here’s a problem I often face.

I walk into the kitchen, and see this:

Do I fend off the spiky evil? Of course not. Not at 2.30 in the morning.
So, maybe I’ll have just a little bit, and tinggalkan the rest for whoever yang punya this durian.

So really I should just have sesatar saja, and leave the other satars for erm other people (“anak nyipo” as my mum calls ’em), say this much only:

But that’s just impossible, you can’t just have one satar of durian cos there are always two sides to it.

And mum’s always said makanan yang nda kena makan will cry at night coz they’ve been wasted. Likewise I recall my Darjah 3 ugama teacher, in her attempt to reinforce my ‘muslim guilt’, saying wasted food will get their revenge. In my fertile imagination that conjured images of little beads of rice chomping away at my head while I slept, only for me to wake up in the morning with half a head, and much less of a whole brain. So the same guilt ate away inside of me now. In this case, little lumps of custardy durian kuning could replace my entire brain and I’d wake up unable to process the tiniest bit of information, but still able to emit funky smells. Oh the horror. So I couldn’t possibly leave that other satar of durian already exposed and uneaten, could I?

Again, of course not. Nor could I leave the other satars of durian. Burp!

The aftermath

But at least there were still a few more of them in my mum’s not-so-secret stash for her “anak nyipo”:

...although I suspect that one on the right is the illegimate son of the durian and a stripey tiger. But it could just be a little brush.

So here’s my conclusion: it is not possible to have just one satar of durian. Problem solved.