16th January 2016
It was a wonderful morning to begin with. To start your
first day of holiday at home listening to the marbles thrown by your little
brother and the crutches of your parents getting ready to go out.
Okay maybe I lied. I hated the way brother made me wake up.
I am supposed to be sleeping. Uh.
Still, it’s a beautiful day.
The feeling of waking up in the morning to feel the warmth
and serenity (which I never felt in a long time) there’s so much fillings in
the heart. You feel so loved. Not that I am not loved, but this day it felt
more different.
The kind of feeling you’d jump out of bed into the clouds
with strings of colourful ribbons adjusting the balance of happiness you wonder
if it’ll last. Commenting back to the fact that the reality was so real like a
fairy tale, cotton candy clouds, immersed with a mesmerizing view of the Earth.
Or the feeling of joy running down the streets giving red roses to anyone who
looks like they had an awful day, dancing with them holding hands to the beat
of the waters dripping from the rain to the hons of cars contracting that I
must be a crazy girl.
What on Earth am I talking about.
Assume that I’m in a happy mood indeed.
Having my scarf worn and a pair of pink slippers, budging in
the car with mum and dad going to the morning market. When was the last time
I went here? Hmm I don’t remember.
In the car, mum would suggest what to eat for lunch and
states all my long lists of favourite foods as if ready to see her daughter
drool into a stage i might vomit not even a bite of butter prawns. Prevent
starvation, she says. Eat moderately, I thought. I hope my expected
mind set becomes a reality.
The ideal experiment of trying to figure out what people
might be thinking of each other when eyes meeting every time they are so respectively
trying to buy their food. Prevent starvation and aim satisfaction, is
that running their heads too?
My eyes lingered around the stalls, focused on both on what
they sell and how people purchase them. The variation number of the vegies
where nowhere to my predictions. You know you’re far from reaching the standard
of being fully adult developed when you find it hard to know the names of each
greens.
What’s this? What’s that? Why is it much bigger in size?
What do you cook that with? Seems hard. To a point of resulting your mother
having to give mixed signals trying to focus both answering your curiosity and
reconnecting back her concentration to the seller.
I must be asking too much, keep your mouth shut for once,
I reminded myself.
So I stood on the same position turning myself 360 degrees
keeping eye track on every possible thing I can see. Until we reached to the
place where they provided fishes (don’t even ask what’s the name of it), white
prawns, standard prawns two big trays of squids. My mind so loud with
questions, without my acknowledgement beside me was this elderly lady sitting
waiting for her daughter to buy prawns.
Her daughter somewhat 40 years old probably, kneeling to her
showing her the prices of the white prawns and the normal ones. 45 MYR
difference. She shrugged, without a fuss complained in a very funny way I
couldn’t help laughing. Her eyes shifted on me, smiling. I smiled back.
She wore a lose green attire, light pastel scarf with a big
round glasses that made me remind myself back of a character from Star Wars.
The tranquillity of her presence made me stir back being closer to her kneeling
down t be similar to her seating level, and chatted. Call me nenek ahaha,
she said. Being 82, I made a clear disbelief expression telling her she looked
way too cheerful and healthy.
Saamah, her
name.
If it wasn’t for my legs running, I would be lying on bed
now. I’m a funny nanny, I know, but that
doesn’t mean I’m really healthy, she boldly told me with such confidence
and humor I swore no elderly had made me laugh more than she could. Her
daughter heard her and stared at my reaction I couldn’t help understanding she
must’ve have been really cheerful her daughter had heard it too often and
smirked.
Her passion telling me her stories, where she lived, how she
had her days running as a Quran’ tutor for the elderlies in our national mosque
for 40 years in a row, how she wanted to understand teaching older people were
much harder than children. I kneeled beside her wondering if she might dance
with her stick in the middle of the crowd because it seemed like she was so
happy.
We exchanged some stories together, yet still amazed with
the fact she actually engaged with what I have to say and would make
cracked up jokes. Oh! That’s so cool. No way? Hahaha I wonder what must it
felt like if I were you. Her wide eyes hidden past her glasses were
obviously filled with excitement, it wasn’t usual to see this in the eyes of a
82 year old.
The last question was the most unpredicted one, left me
laughing all over again. One eyes wider than the other, she got nearer to me
and told ‘you must get married very soon’ Before I could response the sellers
and her daughter laughed. She was great because I could give her sarcastic
mannerly responses because she understood them and would reply hilariously. Her
context was always legit to our way of initiating a conversation with other
teenagers.
I left her a big smile and heard her laughing harder telling
her daughter about me –excited to find a young stranger making her day. I guess
it is hard to find to see youths being friendly with strangers. I wondered if I
would be that way to other people without being selective. I wouldn’t stop
telling my parents about her.
Maybe the idea of having new people in your life creates a
big significance. It’s not wanting them to be a part of your real daily life,
but as a part of the little percentage of creating bond with someone who could
have such a different experience that you have.
Keep your circle
small, but let your network of interaction grow.
Where was I again? Oh yes, wondering if starvation
prevention and satisfaction was everyone’s necessity goal. Laugh out loud.
