It has been almost a month since i started packing my stuff in my room.
I've been living in Taman Permata for the past 25 years, that's 90% of my life.
It was sad, moving, nostalgic as i picked up the pieces that was left. The dust that was there since 1980.
I remembered sliding through the holes in the stairwell, only to recieve a good beating from my mum.
I remembered being caned, for all the small lil indisicpline that i had.
I remembered being thrown out of the house, half naked, because i disobey my mum.
Looking back. I had tears welling up in my eyes.
The house had so much memories. I painted the house every year, because by year end, the paint would had almost been stripped cleaned by my mum's everyday wiping the wall.
The kitchen cabinet now hangs precariously, due to old age, and due to the fact that my mum wipe it everyday as well.
My friends used to joke, that when they come over to my place, just by looking at what my mum was doing at that point of time, they could tell what time it was.
Now, everything, almost everything i would say, has been moved to my granma's place in Gombak, the place i spend my early years before i shifted to Permata.
It is not the same. The cosiness and the warmth, the memories and the floor which i laid on everyday. It is just not the same.
Whatever it is, one thing didn't change, my mum's habit of cleaning up the house and her incessant complains of everything and anything under the sun.
It's still home, i guessed.
I miss my childhood years in Sentul... When I moved to this taman, I was expecting there wouldnt be any changes... But there are, I missed the days runing between houses in those kampungs...
ReplyDeletei grew up in Permata.My first friend and friends after that are all from UK area.
ReplyDeleteIt felt different. I had tears welling up my eyes when i saw the place i grew up for the past 25 years being emptied .
infact, call me sentimental, i still refer that house as my home, but not the new place, which is my granma's place.