Apple crumble

Love comes in many forms.

I still remember feeling my chest swelling with happiness upon hearing the sound of the gate opening and the soft purr of a car signaling my father’s return from his work after a night away in a different state.

I also remember the warmth that fills my soul as I hear my brother’s voice in front of the house, returning from tarawih prayer, half screaming in joy at the sight of the Mercedes Benz parked cozily in the parking space, and the way his footsteps and energy reverberates as he enters the house, bursting in with radiance greeting the one man he grew up with, an innocence that only he can possess.

I remember looking up from the soft green sofa and greeted with white enshrouded backs. The backs of wan and mak, in their telekung, both now weak in the legs, consumed by age, seated on plastic chairs, praying two rakaat after Isyak prayer.

I remember the silent humm of the house on that night, filling in every nook with radiance, comfort, peace. Like the warmth and crunchiness of the apples of an apple crumble, baked to golden. Warm and sweet, with a grunge of texture perfecting the stimulus. My apple crumble.

That night, nothing else seems to matter more than savoring the taste of the night. A love that I know will not last, so let time stop, imprint it on letters, and let the crumbs spill all over the world.

Recommended song: Nap of a star - TXT

Unpacking memories

I was packing my stuff because the semester has ended for me and I’m going home tomorrow, and an overwhelming nostalgia hits.

This whole process of packing and unpacking brings back the memories of my childhood. I have lived a childhood of hopping from one school to another, one house to another, one city to another. Not as much as some people but Wangsa Maju-Shah Alam-Kota Damansara-Bangi-Saudi-Bangi, is still a handful for an introvert soul like me.

While packing, I reminisced on the memories of my school life that seems to become even more vivid right in front of my eyes. Without realization, when I was in primary one, I have already began the process of moving from one place to another. I had two schools for primary one, because I hated my first school for some reason, I ran from that school to my old kindergarten (it was right beside the school). The second one gratefully went fine for me. Made friends, played a lot, lived a typical life of a primary one kid. Little did I know I was going to move in one more year.

I remember telling my friends I was going to another school and my friends were angry because I told them lambat. Honestly, I didn’t know what was the huge deal, I was just going to move to another place. Heh.

Then I moved, to an apartment in Shah Alam and boy the apartment was a handful for my 9-year-old soul. I remember throwing tantrums for some reason for quite a few times at the parking lot (still have no idea why), watching kacang kacang show on tv, poking at my huge pillow God knows why I have it and why anyone bought it for me, and staring at the empty walls and the limited spaces in the white walled apartment.

Then Kota Damansara happened. I remember sitting at the arm of a sofa, staring at my parents unloading boxes from the car, eyes starting to get teary and I blinked it away. Damansara brought with it many good and conflicting memories. A larger house, had friends to play with as my cousins live a few houses away, had my own space for toys and books, but school, was a challenge.

First time being a new kid, you gotta learn the rules. No friends for a few months and never mentioning anything to my parents, life went on, along with school drama. Gradually, the friend problem ceased, people apologized to me, friends entered my sphere, and life rolls on. At my second year in the school, I was told by my parents that we were going to move again. I remember internally slowly detaching myself from my friends, teachers and school environment. This time, with farewell gifts in my hand, I knew what moving means.

Then we moved.

A young city, that will soon grow faster than it should. New house, new city, new friends, new environment, and once again, the new kid in the block. School went fine, gained more friends, made many great memories, but it was also in this city where God decided to teach me a life-long lesson. My world became significantly darker as I exited my primary school life with a greater sensitivity to my surroundings than before.

High school life, began. 

Three schools for Form 1. Two in Malaysia, one in Saudi. Each with their own stories. Just when I thought my life should have settled down, somehow I was on a plane to a place I have never imagined I would go so early in my life. A new home means I have to quickly adapt and learn the ropes in a new school. Every school is different. New kid in the block once again, this time in an international school. Fun. The memories were polarized from very nice to very depressing.  One year in, and I was again, told by my parents that we will be moving back to Malaysia. Again, I thought, what’s new?. I was ready to move, and we did. 

Somehow, after that, my life settled down in one school until high school graduation. Sri Ayesya. The first school I stayed in for more than two years. I was definitely amused. A world record.

What was I doing? Ahh I was quietly packing my stuff, but somehow, old memories waft in my mind, creeping out from the hidden passages in my mind. Amazing isn’t it, to be able to experience all of that. A life unique to only me and no others. An exquisite journey designed to bring out the best in me. All this while, while moving from school to school, I never realized that in the end, schools, are merely classrooms for me to learn. The real school is this whole worldly journey I’m on. I have nine schools but none can teach me as much as the school God have tailor-made for me. 

May whatever journey or path we embark on, becomes a character-building experience for all of us. It might be rocky, confusing, lonely, exciting, and a thousand more sensations, but in the end, it’ll be a unique experience that only you will get to experience. Have faith, it’ll be an amazing story to tell.