trips to ipoh always make my heart flutter with excitement...
home is where my heart is, has always been and will always be. yet there is a hidden sorrow going back to where memory lane would bring me to childhood. age shows in my parents, my grandmothers, my parents house along with everything that had mattered to me. there is a lump of sorrow in my throat when i think about this.
my parents friends whom i would call maama, maami, uncle and auntie had aged as well, some had passed away too. their children who had been either going to kindergarten or primary school are now young man and young ladies. the many wedding invitations on the television in my parents house is a definite reminder of these young people the changes in the neighbourhood is a sure reminder of how years has gone by.
as i sat in my parents' dining room and chatted with my mother, i remembered how my mother and us the three sisters would sit around the dining table and chat as if there is no tomorrow. sometimes, the boys joined us. we would have so much fun along with little quarrels as well. i looked at my mother, i saw the wrinkles on her face. she was once a very beautiful woman but life and its challenges as well as raising six children followed by four grandchildren and caring for two almost a century old grandmothers had aged her way beyond.
i respect this woman with my heart and soul for her strength and beliefs, no words could aptly describe the pain she had gone through in life. she kept going on believing that she will rise above it all. masya Allah, she does but then there will always something else that will pull her down. Allah loves her so much and therefore, He kept on testing her. i will carry her on a silver platter in my heart forever ....
i loved to look at my children going around my parents' house at ease. it is as if they knew that it is an intergral part of their mother. the sight of my mother cooking almost everything she could while i was there always touch my heart. i saw an image of myself some 20 years ago standing beside her in the kitchen stirring the curry, tasting the food or simply standing by chatting with her while she cooked. i love her cooking but whenever i am around, she would ask me to taste the food. it is like a habit.
sigh... home is where my heart is. i wonder if my children will feel the same....
here are some photographs of my recent visit home....
my mother ordered from my grandmother's niece in india the leg bangles for baby nazhan and anklets for nadia nasira, both are made in silver, worn in pairs. my mother loved looking at the children wearing them and them in it. there is no better music to my ears than the jingling sound arising from my daughter's steps. i used to wear mine and i loved jingling them.
my handsome boy is too big for the leg bangles...
tea-time at ummamma's
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