Zo bo / "wow, that's magical"

There were three brothers who lived in a house that was far away from anybody else, in a forest, in a land, at some point in time when strange magical things happened now and then, and people didn't get all skeptical, but just go, "wow, that's magical", or something along those lines.

Everyday, the three brothers would go out to deal with their usual hunting and gathering, and also to pass their motion and urine (their house didn't have plumbing). When they were done with the essentials, they would also go about here and there to zo bo (which is a really nifty hokkien phrase that literally translate to mean "do nothing", but does not really mean "do nothing" but something like "do something, probably inconsequential, probably just to pass some time idly"). 

Since they were in the middle of the forest, and the nearest shopping mall was not near at all, and they had no internet, no books to read, they would come up with new ways to zo bo.

The eldest brother, who was tall and thin, enjoyed lying chest down, on the bank of a river (yes, there was at least a river nearby), and dunking his face in the flowing water, lifting it out to take a deep breath every now and then.


"What for?" You may ask... me (as in, me, I, the person who is humbly writing this down) for perceived lack of better alternative people to ask.


"Why..." I may say and pause for some time so that I can come up with something ridiculous to suit his posture, but it doesn't take me that long, really, "He wanted to count the fish passing him by in the river."


"What for?" You may ask. Or, if you should so prefer, "For what?" (Honestly, I personnally prefer the "For what".)

"So that he could get a sense of how many fish pass him by."

"Why would he want to know that?"

"I don't know," I may say with a shrug, "So that he'll go back and tell his brothers, 'Hey what do you know, Twenty-seven fish today'?" But nah, that is too practical. So I think I'll go with, "He liked the way the fins look on the fish."

And you may frown, knowing that this doesn't explain the counting behaviour at all. But you are clever, and you sense that I may say what I may say deliberately because I may be in the mood to be silly, so you may say  "Okay, whatever..." just to get on with it. And I shall quickly go on to talk about the next brother.

The second brother was short and stout, and had a thing for eggs: bird eggs, butterfly eggs, fish eggs, lizard eggs, scrambled eggs, poached eggs, half-boiled eggs, smashed eggs.
He'd climb around the forest, crawl on the floor, and cut up fish, and put in a lot of back-breaking work, just to find eggs to marvel at.

"What does he find so fascinating about eggs?" You may ask.

And I may wonder what nonsense I may have up my sleeves this time, but I may realise that I may not be feeling inspired.

But wait. As I write, I realise I can ask him that for you now, since he's pretty much in my head.

"Because I see the unhatched eggs' potential. Or the cooked/smashed eggs' lost potential." He may reply, pronouncing '/' as 'slash', such that he really says "the cooked slashed smashed eggs' lost potential...

"I can actually see potential - visually, tangibly, physically floating around some eggs like an aura, like a cloud of colours. Some eggs' potential are like fireworks made of feathers. Others are like shadows of sea coconuts dancing with orange mokara orchids... Or lost potential that can look like fish balls bouncing everywhere like gummy bears, or toenails of witches, or the old grey tee-shirt that's on somebody's kitchen floor as a rag..."

Well, you can take it from me that I didn't make this up. Because his reply is so ridiculous and fun that honestly, I wish I did make it up. I would certainly like to claim the credit for myself, but I'm afraid of stealing anything from anyone who can see potential and knows how witches' toenails look like, for he might be a wizard!

"I might be," I hear him warningly.

"And he lives in my head!" I think.

"I don't live in your head," he corrects, "I live in a forest far away from anybody else. But, yes, I am in your head." He nods.

And I smile weakly at all of us now, and move on to the third brother.

The third and last brother was between tall and short and thin and stout, zo bo-ed (note: Singlish past tense to the hokkien verb) by lazing around. He lazed by sitting down, standing up, in the sun, in the shade, humming a tune, eyes closed or eyes opened, looking at the trees or the clouds or his brothers and... you know.

And before I think of anything you may ask me about this lazy brother number three, I stop myself. Because I've been kind of presumptious about the questions you may ask. I apologise. I'm sorry.

So do you think, you can imagine this lazy brother number three, or all three brothers (might as well) in your own head? Then if you have any questions regarding the stuff they do, or not do, and their motivations, or even for wanting to hear something ridiculous, you can ask them directly?

And because I'm curious if the brothers in my head will reply with the same things when they're in yours, could you please help me ask the brothers in your head:
a) if they also really zo all the bo they zo (read: they really do all the shit they do), just to notice something that they didn't notice before and go, "wow, that's magical",
b) if they shall also live happily, ever, after?

Thanks. Let me know, k?