So, I shall start with one of the man that I love and am very thankful for.
This man, was my saviour when I passed out ascaris lumbricoidales and the one whom I spent my days with before I started schooling. He is my Tok Tam.
He is the one who taught me different ways to enjoy my roti canai.
I always had my roti canai damp with the dhal gravy until one day he decided that I should try dipping my roti canai in the gravy instead of having my plate flooded. And he also taught me that I can also have my roti canai with condensed milk instead.
In our days together, we frequented these 2 particular coffee shops in Batu Feringghi. They were those typical Chinese coffe shops in the 90's.
U know, the kind of coffee shop that serves your coffee in the cream coloured cups with mossy green floral prints along the matching saucer.
I wasn't allowed coffe but I had tea. And sometimes, when Tok Tam feel like it, I would have half boiled egg mixed into my tea.
He would pour the hot drink on the saucer, shaking it gently in a circular motion and feed me my drink from that very saucer.
It was very nice that I am thankful that I had that moment to reminisce upon.
I knew those coffe shops that we went to had been stripped down to make way for what they call development but here I am, typing my memories down, so that it won't be stripped away from me too.
I would always tag Tok Tam to the morning market.
For breakfast we sometimes had roti canai at the shop and sometimes, we would pick something up from the breakfast van.
They had this spread of kuih muih and dishes.
Only thing is that I hated all those except for kuih lapis, karipap and nasi lemak.
I always sulk when I had pulut inti.
Glutinous rice is never my favourite, except when you make it yellow and accompanied with generous chicken or beef curry.
And this pulut inti, not only it is plain glutinous rice, it even has this sweet shaved coconut to go with.
Thanks Allah, it dissappeared from my life long ago. =p
We all know there are kids that when we tell them not to do something, they will run towards it instead.
Well, I was one of them.
It was our typical morning.
My paralysed great grandmother was in bed, and I was in the kitchen with my Tok Tam.
I had nasi lemak on banana leaf that morning when my Tok Tam was washing the fishes (he's the housekeeper. Tok Ndak, Tok Cik and Tok Teh were the ones who worked)
He clearly told me not to eat the shrimps' heads.
Instead of asking why not, I decided to find the reason by myself and stuff them into my mouth
Chewing them for a brief second, I found the answer.
I spat out whatever in my mouth and in my stomach and was sporting tears in my eyes, and my Tok Tam left the fishes to attend to the over smart grandniece.
I promised myself I'll never chew shrimp head again.
One day, I was having so much fun at school when dad came fetching me out.
I was jovial and all hyped out to go home.
At home, my parents put me into kurung and they broke the news on the way to Batu Feringghi.
The man that I love, the man that ran away from me in my dream few weeks ago, was indeed, has been taken away from me.
It was the second funeral in half than a year and I was taking it so hard. I was totally not ready for it.
The house again smelt of lime leaves and incense sticks.
They were returning from the shop (they went to buy drinks for the workers), my two brothers and Tok Tam, when he collapsed in the middle of the road.
Nazri was clueless and very small Nazir was calling "Tok Tam?" all the while, giving the lifeless man the spilled teh tarik with the straw.
Our Indian neighbour was the one who found them a few minutes after when she was out to get something.
After the funeral, my parents gave each of us orange vitagen, the last momento from our beloved Tok Tam.
That man, he never allowed me yogurt and always substituted it with vitagen and at his very last moment he bought us vitagen, now, as the substitution to himself.
I grew up embracing the fact that our time is over and at last have the yogurt that I was so keen to try and I still love my vitagen.
One and half years later, I was attending tuiton at Rama's Guest House.
Kala was a lioness and that day I was left to do some exercises in the book.
I learned the lesson not to write "I don't know" to the question that I don't know for the second time.
There was a plate of nuggets in front of me.
I didn't really fancy nugget that much nor do I hate it.
I was racking my brain to solve the questions when a hand with two fingers came running on the table towards those golden nuggets.
That hand came running thrice and was knocked away thrice before it got the nugget.
That hand then came my way with a Hi.
There were wau bulan of various sizes suspended above us and I decided to forget my exercise for a while and shaked that friendly hand.
"Hi, I am Stevey. S.T.E.V.E.Y"
And so, our brief story begins.
Whenever he came visiting with his father, I would be delighted.
He loved the racing bike so much, it has black handles with white stars.
And he got himself injured somewhere near the Chinese school with that bicycle.
I didn't really have a clear memory of what happened next.
I found him on my way to fetch my brother from preschool and we got him home (I forgot how did we actually get him out of the mess).
Anyway, few days later, the nugget boy was all happy out of the shower showing me (who, again with the difficult exercises to tend to) the yellow plastic covering the wound on his leg.
And then it came to an end too.
It was our last evening together.
Small Nazir tagged along, and we went to the beach and crossed the small estuary.
Uncle Peter heaved Nazir and we had paddle pop ice creams on our way home.
We promised to see each other again and I would have camera or watch or whatever the next time we meet.
Only thing is that, now after 10 years, the promise is still yet to be realised.
My family moved away and along the way, we somehow lost contact.
I would love to really know what was it that uncle Peter said to me many many years ago, but I guess nobody remember what was it, or were it now.
I still hope we can see each other and know it.
And I am yet to go to Switzerland.
The promise, even though I don't really remember the faces and don't know the exact names, still, I hope it can be realised.
Our partings were and still are bitter facts.
On the contrary to the yummy things that coloured our days together, and for that I smile and feel glad to have such moments =)
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