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We left for the hospital as soon as the kids left. We met my mum's sister. She's only a year older looking very weak. She mentioned how healthy-looking my mother was.

"Who asked you to move to Malaysia?" Teased my mother. Her husband looked on - smiling.

"Apa nak buat kalau jodoh kita orang Malaysia," she said weakly with a smile. Her husband added that disease knows no boundaries. If one's fated to fall sick, one will no matter where one is. They spoke and I could see that my sick aunt was glad that my mum dropped by - even if it was just for an hour or so. I guess it's little things like this that makes the difference.

As we're about to leave, we met her eldest son and youngest daughter. Again, it's funny though how warm they are with my mother. Afterall, it has been many years since the last time they visited us in Singapore.

I couldn't even recognize Aimi. I vaguely remember the little girl that came to our place a couple of times nearly a decade ago. And I only found out that she's 4 years younger than me. I found out coz somehow, I managed to speak to her. The me a decade ago would never. I asked her about school, talked about her course and stuffs. I asked her why we never spoke those many years ago when she came to stay over at our place with her mum and elder sister.

"Awak sombong," she said with a smile.

I simply smiled. I guess my introvert nature can easily be misread as arrogance and anti-social. I'm not surprised. I had always been the shy guy and still am I guess. But I'm talking more now though - I need to. Opportunities to talk such as this one comes once in perhaps 10 years so one has got to make every minute count.

We reached Singapore at around half past nine. As soon as we reached my place, we received an SMS from across the Causeway. Kak Bibah asked if we've reached home safely and said that she wanted to let us know that her dad's been warded into the hospital due to heart attack. My mum felt sad. I guess we'll never know what's going to happen next. I prayed for the both of them to recover soon.

Earlier, I received an sms that informed me that my faculty's floorball team didn't make it through to the quarters. I logged on to the Internet to check my examination results. I saw an F in a module that I found doable. But I smiled when I saw an A in Magical Realism. My GPA maintained. Alhamdulillah.

After a day of mixed emotions, I realized that the setbacks that I've experienced are nothing really. I took a deep breath, replanned my timetable and wrote about my trip. There's so many lovely things in life and I find it foolish to feel down because of a minor stumble. I just gotta pick myself up and move on. I've got dreams to make me study hard coz right now, I'm far from good. And not only that, I must study smart too! Insyaallah I will.

The Lovely Kids

We reached Malacca at around 11am. We met Kak Bibah, the daughter of my mum's elder sister. Despite decades since their last meeting, Kak Bibah was surprisingly very warm and friendly.

We made our way to her house first as hospital visiting hours was at 1pm. There, I met 2 lovely kids who made my day - an 8 year old girl and a 4 year old boy.

"Hi! Nama adek apa?"

He didnt reply and ran into his room. When he came back out, I smiled and asked for his name again. He didnt reply. He went to another room and came back with 2 toy cars. I reached out to him and asked if I could have one. He placed a car in my hand and went away. He then came back with more toys but whenever I asked for his name, he didnt reply.

"Do you want a sweet?" I asked as I remembered the Mentos in my pocket. Kids love candies. He nodded his head and reached his hand out. "But first, you got to tell me your name." He didnt answer. I held him close and looked him. I knew he wasnt going to tell me and I didnt want to let the kid wait for his candy. He smiled. I surrendered. He went away. I loved his smile.

He then came back and sat on my lap. And soon he was lying in my arms. I missed the feeling of caring and loving for someone ever since my brothers grew up and had decided that grown ups shouldnt be loved like as though they're small kids.

As the boy laid in my arms, I asked him for his name again. He just smiled. Something doesnt seem right. He went off to clear his toys and moments later, he was standing right next to me - looking and pointing to my sweets. He pointed at the colour green but it would mean that I have to eat 2 purple ones. So, I did. Mentos should've arranged their sweets randomly and not by colors. He was happy and walked over to his mum to have breakfast.

I looked around and saw the little girl combing her hair in front of the mirror. It's been a long long long while since I saw anyone combed their hair. I remember spending a long time in front of the mirror - just like her - combing my hair. But that was many many years ago.

When she was done, I asked for her name. It was a mouthful. She had to spell it a couple of times - it was a tricky name.

"Aishah *jarak* Firiyyal. Tapi panggil saya Sara je. Nama adik saya Muammar Muhammad. Dia pelat sikit. Panggil dia Mai je." She seemed nice kid. Polite. She then went to the kitchen to have her breakfast.

She was having a conversation with my mum and I heard the word "kucing" which means cat in Malay.

"Pakcik tu takut dengan kucing," my mum told her and pointed at me.

"Siapa?" She asked as she stretched her head out. I looked at her. She saw me and giggled. My mum shouldn't have told her I was afraid of cats.

"There're cats?" I wondered as I looked around the house. I couldn't see or hear any so I resumed watching tv.

Later, I heard the kids playing in the other room so I went over to join them. To my surprise, each were holding a cat.

For some reason (that I think I can explain), I didnt panic. I sat down on the sofa in front of two kids who knew I was afraid of cats. Muammar looked at me and smiled. Oh no... He walked towards me and wanted to place the cat on my lap. I smiled and gave him the "dont u dare... pleeease I beg you" look. I was too late. He placed it just beside beside my lap.

For some reason (that I think I can explain), I didn't move away. I was comforted knowing that Sara was sitting beside me, a white little cat in her arms. There was something in her eyes and smile that made my fear go away.

"Kucing yang ini baik. Tapi dia suka cekau. Yang ni pulak suka gigit." She said and giggled through her teeth.

For the first time ever, I ran my fingers through the cat's fur. "He (it looks like a male cat) definitely needs to use Dove Hair Conditioner." I said to myself. I never thought I'll see this day coming.

The kids left for their Grandma's. I wished they hadn't left so soon. It's only been a couple of hours. I waved goodbye as they left.

I'm glad I've finally learnt what it means by seizing opportunities as they come. I've made full use of the time I had with them to get to know them, and for them to get to know me. I rediscovered my loving and caring side. Ive gotten rid of my fear of cats. And for a brief moment, I was sweetly distracted - the eyes, the specs, the smile, the hair, the cat.

It was only later that I found out that the boy has difficulty speaking. If I'm not mistaken, they have brought him to see a speech therapist. I hope they grow up to be as lovely as they are now. I've only seen them for a couple of hours. I wonder if they'll remember me the next time I see them.

To the kids, if one day you decide to google up your name curious to know if any guy or girl is secretly blogging about you, please do leave me a comment. I'm the not-so-old-pakcik who used to be afraid of cats, but not anymore after seeing how brave and lovely you guys were.

The Idiot...

I had written a long piece. We had just reached Malacca. I was finishing up my LAST sentence when my phone automatically restarted. A little over 1000 words vanished in an instant! Countless kilometers/three hours of thoughts!! I felt like an idiot! I felt like throwing my phone away and never write again. The feeling of losing something that I wrote really sucked especially after I gave so much thoughts and emotions into it. argh!

But I told myself that we learn from mistakes. We should immediately assess the situation and see the next best thing that can be done. I took a deep breath and typed away the last thing I remembered - the final line.

I then retraced my steps and typed the main points of what I wrote. It's been a short but lovely trip. A long day and I'm tired. Therefore, I shall reconstruct my first Nokia E63 piece first thing in the morning.

The next morning,

Looking at the scenery along the NS highway, I can't help but think about things. I'm with mum, my aunt and my uncle on an urgent trip to Malacca. It's been a while since I sat in a car up this highway. Many things have changed since then. The Immigration Checkpoints, the roads, the route, the buildings, the view. But then, I realized that perhaps I'm the one who's changed a lot since then.

It definitely feels weird as I'm writing this entry. Firstly, I've never written anything in a moving car before. Secondly, I've never written an entry when my mama's just beside me. She must be thinking I'm typing one heck of an SMS. Thirdly, the driver's not my dad. Fourthly, I'm the only kid in the car. Fifthly, my siblings are not with me. I'm feeling pretty alone and when I'm alone, that's usually when my mind begins to wonder. Perhaps that's how you sometimes feel.

We just had breakfast and conversation revolved around children and their future. It feels weird to be sitting in an adult conversation. And I'm finding myself sitting in an adult conversation pretty often lately.

My aunt shared something she heard from perhaps the radio. She said parents should never have the feeling of expecting something in return from their children. She added that the responsibility of parents is different from that of the children and that parents should be grateful that their children thinks about them. My mum didn't quite agree but she admitted that looking at today's context, perhaps what my aunt said was true.

Like my mum, I didn't quite agree with what my aunt shared. I think it's my responsibility as child to give back whatever I can to my mum - to just make her happy. Thinking about her just isn't enough. But as I looked at the thoughts I'm currently having - school, stress, results, frisbee, floorball, soccer, my future - I realized I haven't been thinking about my mum much lately. And once I've graduated, I'll most probably be shifting my thoughts to work, stress, the one and marriage so hopefully, I'll remember mum as I think about those things.

It strikes me that parents think about their children ALL the time. The things they do, they do it for us. I hope that us children will do the same for our parents, and in future, our own children.

I'm never one who rewrites the same thing twice so the above is only a fraction of my original piece. For some weird reason, I forgot what came before the final line. Really. Perhaps it's a good thing too that my phone restarted - I was starting to write using more of my heart and less of my brain. Here's the final line:

Ive been told by some that my entries have a voice. And if what they say is true, I hope you know I'm talking to you.

The Writer ...

.. is someone who plans to read The Zahir during the trip up and down Malaysia's North-South highway but ends up typing away thoughts and reflections and stories into his Nokia E63.

I went to Malacca with my mum today to visit an unwell relative. And the 8 hours on the road wasn't enough for me to finish what I started. More to come soon.