That I lead a nomadic life every time I come home is not much of a surprise to anyone. To date, there are two suitcases and several plastic bags with snacks at Lilah's in Bangi, more carrier bags with books and gifts, a few change of clothes and a husband in Gombak and a bag at Ajie's with contents spilling on to the floor. I have a toothbrush and several small (err perhaps not so) things in a bag that I carry around with me. My mind vacillates from being here with Mak and three children and five cats in London, a daughter in Cairo and the hubby in Gombak. It is quite tiring actually: this mental and physical journey.
Two weeks have flown past and many a dish craved for in the cooler climes of London have been consumed, many moments spent with family members, friends old and new have been captured and stored in the hard drive of the memory to be savoured later. There are so many wonderful moments that I am struggling to write this entry as words failed me.
There are unforgettable moments with Mak. After the end of a long three-day seminar, I plonked myself on the sofa. She came several times to ask me where I was going to sleep. I signalled that I'd make my way upstairs soon. When I woke up, she had covered me with a blanket, and had taken the other sofa near me, sleeping peacefully, with me on one side and her youngest son, my brother, occupying the other sofa.
Alhamdulillah Mak is fine; except for her coughs that wake her up at nights and render her breathless at times. She is happiest on days that I spent lounging lazily in my kaftan in the front room. She repeatedly asks questions about the children, asks me to eat again and again even when she had seen me eating at the dinning table.
During one weekend when Lilah took her back to her house, I slept on the floor while she slept on the single bed. She got my beddings ready and we talked until I could hear her soft snores and light breathing. I rubbed her back and she said; "Now there's only skin and bones".
When she sees me packing my bags, or putting on my tudung, Mak would ask questions that a child would: where are you going?
One morning, I woke up late after a whole night of writing a long overdue piece for a magazine. I found her upset and almost in tears as she couldn't find me anywhere in the front room. She thought I had gone back to London without saying goodbye.
But all in all, I am happy that Mak is okay. She still has her wit about her and never loses any opportunity to tease or joke. Yesterday, as I was leaving to get my MYCard done, I told her that I was going to do my passport (It is easier to say passport than Mycard, I thought). She retorted, "Masa balik dulu tak dak paspot ka?"
The three day motivation seminar which I managed to squeeze in during this short trip inevitably managed to unearth a few deep-seated insecurities and touched raw nerves. There were moments of reflections, moments of self doubts and moments of realisations. But there was also a moment that I will always treasure. I caught sight of someone familiar in the crowd in the huge hall of PICC, approached her and didn't regret the bold move. There, on the second day of the seminar, I met up face to face with the lovely Ida Hariati. We sang the Chahaya Salawat in the darkened hall, holding hands and tears flowing freely down our cheeks and we prayed together in the surau .
Throughout the three day seminar, three wonderful young girls kept me company and offered me their friendship. I am most grateful to all of you, Mas, Lina and Sue. Let's keep in touch!
My homecomings are usually not complete without a reunion with my childhood friends but this time, something is definitely different and something is definitely missing. As fate would have it, the big C is taking its toll on my dear friend M. L is holidaying in Europe so there's only A and I making our rounds. No more meeting up at cafes and restaurants, or giggling and singing in carparks or the changing room. Our meetings are more sober in nature. M was too weak to leave the house. She was at times in pain and all we could do was hold her hand. There was a moment when I had to take refuge in the kitchen where I let out a huge sob so she couldn't hear me or see my tears. I remember those childhood years together - yes, we've had some wonderful moments. That evening we visited her, it was Nisfu Syaaban and we did the prayer together, led by my husband. After that, she expressed her wish to come out with us, just like the good old days.
It was all I could do to control my tears as both A and I helped her to the car and to Bangi Kopitiam. That she was in pain was quite obvious but she wanted this moment with us. The Café's catchword defined that moment for us: A Cup of Coffee with Friendship and Memories.
Another evening that is bound to remain forever with me is that evening at Lake Club. Thank you Puteri Kamaliah and Pak Abu for bringing together so many wonderful people. It was great meeting up with ex colleagues and newfound friends on the net. When we got home that night, courtesy of taxi driver MA with fellow passengers Iain and Anak SiHamid, we stayed up past our bedtime, still looking at the photos we had taken that evening. Thank you everyone.
Remember the entry on cringe moments? Well, I had one such moment that evening. Arriving at the venue, after the hug hug and kiss kiss with those already present, I sat myself down at the table, looked squarely at my companion's face and asked her, "Where's Puteri?"
That's the moment when I really wanted the floor to open up under me.
Two weeks have flown past and many a dish craved for in the cooler climes of London have been consumed, many moments spent with family members, friends old and new have been captured and stored in the hard drive of the memory to be savoured later. There are so many wonderful moments that I am struggling to write this entry as words failed me.
There are unforgettable moments with Mak. After the end of a long three-day seminar, I plonked myself on the sofa. She came several times to ask me where I was going to sleep. I signalled that I'd make my way upstairs soon. When I woke up, she had covered me with a blanket, and had taken the other sofa near me, sleeping peacefully, with me on one side and her youngest son, my brother, occupying the other sofa.
Alhamdulillah Mak is fine; except for her coughs that wake her up at nights and render her breathless at times. She is happiest on days that I spent lounging lazily in my kaftan in the front room. She repeatedly asks questions about the children, asks me to eat again and again even when she had seen me eating at the dinning table.
During one weekend when Lilah took her back to her house, I slept on the floor while she slept on the single bed. She got my beddings ready and we talked until I could hear her soft snores and light breathing. I rubbed her back and she said; "Now there's only skin and bones".
When she sees me packing my bags, or putting on my tudung, Mak would ask questions that a child would: where are you going?
One morning, I woke up late after a whole night of writing a long overdue piece for a magazine. I found her upset and almost in tears as she couldn't find me anywhere in the front room. She thought I had gone back to London without saying goodbye.
But all in all, I am happy that Mak is okay. She still has her wit about her and never loses any opportunity to tease or joke. Yesterday, as I was leaving to get my MYCard done, I told her that I was going to do my passport (It is easier to say passport than Mycard, I thought). She retorted, "Masa balik dulu tak dak paspot ka?"
The three day motivation seminar which I managed to squeeze in during this short trip inevitably managed to unearth a few deep-seated insecurities and touched raw nerves. There were moments of reflections, moments of self doubts and moments of realisations. But there was also a moment that I will always treasure. I caught sight of someone familiar in the crowd in the huge hall of PICC, approached her and didn't regret the bold move. There, on the second day of the seminar, I met up face to face with the lovely Ida Hariati. We sang the Chahaya Salawat in the darkened hall, holding hands and tears flowing freely down our cheeks and we prayed together in the surau .
Throughout the three day seminar, three wonderful young girls kept me company and offered me their friendship. I am most grateful to all of you, Mas, Lina and Sue. Let's keep in touch!
My homecomings are usually not complete without a reunion with my childhood friends but this time, something is definitely different and something is definitely missing. As fate would have it, the big C is taking its toll on my dear friend M. L is holidaying in Europe so there's only A and I making our rounds. No more meeting up at cafes and restaurants, or giggling and singing in carparks or the changing room. Our meetings are more sober in nature. M was too weak to leave the house. She was at times in pain and all we could do was hold her hand. There was a moment when I had to take refuge in the kitchen where I let out a huge sob so she couldn't hear me or see my tears. I remember those childhood years together - yes, we've had some wonderful moments. That evening we visited her, it was Nisfu Syaaban and we did the prayer together, led by my husband. After that, she expressed her wish to come out with us, just like the good old days.
It was all I could do to control my tears as both A and I helped her to the car and to Bangi Kopitiam. That she was in pain was quite obvious but she wanted this moment with us. The Café's catchword defined that moment for us: A Cup of Coffee with Friendship and Memories.
Another evening that is bound to remain forever with me is that evening at Lake Club. Thank you Puteri Kamaliah and Pak Abu for bringing together so many wonderful people. It was great meeting up with ex colleagues and newfound friends on the net. When we got home that night, courtesy of taxi driver MA with fellow passengers Iain and Anak SiHamid, we stayed up past our bedtime, still looking at the photos we had taken that evening. Thank you everyone.
Remember the entry on cringe moments? Well, I had one such moment that evening. Arriving at the venue, after the hug hug and kiss kiss with those already present, I sat myself down at the table, looked squarely at my companion's face and asked her, "Where's Puteri?"
That's the moment when I really wanted the floor to open up under me.
