Romance Postmarked Holiday

I believe I’m quite ‘ok’ at handling surprises but I’m always game for anything for that matter. This time around, the surprise was spending the weekend at Mak’s place in Taman Putri Wangsa, Johor Bahru. It was the kind of surprise that’ll make you dump your happening weekend city life in a heartbeat (If you have any, that is. Mine is on the brink of non-existence).

One of my (un)close-knit aunts is getting married in Singapore. Normally, all 4 (or 5, if Ayah tags along) of us would be fine traveling down south in one car. But since Mik and Nek Chu came on board, I had to play Kevin McAllister for a few days. With tuition in tow, I had nothing to complain. Besides, it’s only Singapore. I wouldn’t want to bore you with all the details so to pin things down; there I was in ol’ skool JB.

Yes, the wedding’s in Singapore but JB’s my drop-off point. Saturday in the city was quite ‘moody’ since the downpour just ceased. Gave Mawar a text just so to see whether she’s in campus or at home. Nope. No reply. Anyways, being a city bloke, I’m accustomed to the honking, the bumper-to-bumper and whatnot but here, it’s like having a nightmare when you’re awake. Sure, compared to KL, this is commercial hecticness at a smaller scale but the fact that it’s only a howl away from the ever-busy Causeway; it made the ridiculously-annoying traffic congestion in Pudu Raya looked like a bump on the road. Intimidating? You bet.

Aha. But my escapade was in Taman Putri Wangsa. A good 15 miles away from the too-frightening-to-be-real nightmare. My arrival was greeted with the kids shrieking, “Cik Pa’an datang! Cik Pa’an datang!” Ah, nothing like the voices of my beloved nieces and nephews to make my exhausting day memorable. All of them were surprised to see me since I wasn’t on the ‘guest list’ (Nice one, Kak Noli). Spending time seeing the everyday exploits of my nephew Haziq, is quite amusing since he epitomizes a ball of energy quite accurately. Pedal to the metal, all of it or none of it. When he was months old, he’d be always sitting on my lap, quietly observing everything and everyone around him. Very quiet. Not even goo-goo-gaa-gaas. But now at 6, it’s hard to get a hold of him unless he gets worn-out by all the blitzing and jumping around the house. See, to avoid all the shitty regulations set by the Singaporean government onto Malaysian cars entering the island, Ibu and the rest went in with a cab and left the Waja with Abg. Hisham. He doesn’t own a car. Not that’s bothering him much but knowing that he’s in possession of it for a few days, the kids couldn’t be any happier. It almost meant the world to them knowing that they could go anywhere. Even for the shortest amount of time. I then made a promise to myself to treat every single one of them to the nearby McDonald’s someday soon. They’ve given me so much joy. It’s the least I could do to make their childhood a meaningful phase in their life.

Sunday night, we’re invited to a kenduri by Pak Mat since he’s off performing the haj on the 15th. Pak Mat and wife, Cik Nor are into the satay business where they supply them to hawkers and restaurants around JB. They’re also a family friend since Pak Mat’s family was Mak’s closest neighbor in Taman Sri Pandan. Going back to Pandan after so many years has images of black and white memory flashing right in front of me. This was the place that I always looked forward to spend my school holidays eons ago. Strolling around the neighborhood looking for playmates was my favorite pastime. Speaking about playmates, Pak Mat has 5 kids. 2 of them were my closest buddies. Bedah and Zaid. Bedah’s a year older while Zaid’s a year younger which makes me; ‘the middle guy’. I like to point out that it’s a cool fact that I actually have a friend named Bedah. You only come across such name in Ujang, Gila-Gila and the likes of it. And her name is Zabedah so you can’t say that the ‘Bedah’ is made up. It’s authentic. Anyways, we played a lot of kiddie games together but the one I recall the most is badminton. What’s so unforgettable about our brand of badminton is that with the absence of racquets, we used pot lids instead. Inventive huh? Well someone who won the Nobel Prize did state that imagination is important than knowledge. So I did see them that night at the kenduri but not a word is uttered. 100 bucks says that they don’t even recognize me at all. Think again because you’ll lose. Hell, I’ve changed a lot for sure but I don’t think they have. Zaid still has the same hairstyle and that dorky look and demeanor, Bedah still bears that adorable grin of hers whenever she talks to someone and not forgetting her intoxicating giggle whenever something/someone cracked her up. Boy, has it really been that long? Those pot lids-shuttlecock-smashing days are sorely missed.

Before boarding the 11:30 a.m. bus back to KL, I gave another text to Mawar telling her that I was leaving. Moments after I bid farewell to Abg. Hisyam and kids, she called and ‘scolded’ me for not telling her earlier. She is at home. It then came to me that MMU students are still on holiday. Absent-minded me. We talked for a while and it ended with us exchanging regards for our families. It was nice hearing from her. It’s always a pleasant delight. She did say that she’s coming to KL somewhere around this week. Can’t wait.

The rest will be coming home tomorrow. Meanwhile, I’m still quite exhausted by all the traveling. By the way, I might be going to Rock The Word V after all. Great. I declare myself, already broke for the next 2 months.



“Cik Pa’an dah nak balik ke?”