Memoirs of Yester Years

I love browsing the Mall, a nice shopping site in KB town that attracts me most because of its location, which is only a stone's throw away from my home sweet home. It takes me only a few minutes to get there, without having to be captured in the long queue of traffic jams during the weekends, public holidays or particularly during the school break seasons, that or is when local tourists flock into the east coast region to spend the Thai's nice, creative yet very cheap items. But to the Kelantan locals, those items mentioned are increasing in their prices like any other imported goods too.

Talking about the Mall, I do like to spend most of my leisure moments there because of the convinient basement parking lots provided. The free basement parking spaces are large and could accomodate at least hundreds of cars at a time, I suppose. I dont have to wait that long to park my fast-speeding Kancil - at least to me my only transport looks lovely to me although it is full of scratches and dented. It never insults me to park my Kancil opposite any other expensive imported MPVs or Mercedez Benz. On the other hand, I feel proud to have the chance to be among thost pretigious cars of the wealthy! I am certain that people would at least take a glance at my Kancil, despite all the nasty things that they could have talked about my car. So what? Let them curse, as long as no harm done.

Every time I go there, I dont really have any specific interests or anything to purchase in particular. However I am always attracted to the beautifully woven crystal bracelets, the sophisticated high-heeled Vinci slippers or rather the latest Nokia cellphones displayed attractived in the thick sparkling clean mirrors. It is enjoyable to watch the eager looking, provocative smiles of the young Chinese salesboys and girls approaching the customers whenever they stop to browse the new products on display. Even if I have some intentions in buying them, my bank account could not allow me to satisfy my lust either! I though to myself that as long as the one that I have already owned is able to serve the purpose, I would rather hang on to the old handset in my worn-out handbag. So when I walk away after a few minutes of appreciation to the technology, anyone could notice the look of frustration in the eager faces of the young salesgirls. May be they could hagve judged earlier that I am not the genuine buyer, only the usual passers-by or window shopper.

Anyway, I have never entered or stopped at any music stores found there. It is not that I dislike music but rather I do feel awkward to be caught sight in this corner of entertainment spot; for I come to realize that I am no more fit to be among the young people and teenagers who usually crowded the music store searching for recent albums of their favorite artists. Now that we have all the modern gadgets, the music stores are seem rather slow in thelebusiness. People no more favor tapes or CDs. They have the MP3, MP4, thumb-drives and the pen-drives which can save 1001 kinds of documents, information and songs just in one device. Songs or whatever that crosses one's mind could be downloaded or uploaded as easy as ABC from the internet. They no more favor stamp-collectings or butterfly catchings; they love internet surfings.

I am now called a grandma. I have to face the facts of life. Two of my daughters and the only son I have are already married. They have bore me two little grandsons and a Korean look grandaughter already. I have become a Tok Wan to them. And so if a grandma is found mingling among youngsters at a loud and noisy music store in broad daylight, it is of course unbearable and embarrasing.

to be continued....

Maahad Tahfiz Sains Bustanul Arifin, situated in an outskirt village called Berangan, an area in the district of Tumpat, is my third school I work for as an English teacher under the Yayasan Islam Kelantan (YIK).

When I first received the transfer notice to this school, I was speechless. Not knowing the reasons why I was transfered and why to this part of the world. As I could recalled, I never did ask for any transfer. I began to wonder and tried to put things together. Finally I came into the conclusion that my former principal in Amir Indera had much to do with this transfer. Possibly he could have misjudged me with my ideas and comments. I began to disrespect such a coward .

I left Amir frustratedly and with tears rolling down my cheeks. Not that I missed Amir that much, or my friends who have been mine for more than 20 long years, but rather the anger and dissatifaction.

Before I presented myself officially at this new ambience, I surveyed the environment of the school one fine day, immediately after I touched down at the airport from KL. I drove all the way to Berangan, staring blankly at the three storey-school building from the car window.

" Is this the place I'll be spending the rest of life?" I went home keeping all the confusion in my head to myself. For nights I fell asleep with my pillow wet with tears. Waking up in the morning was another. The first thing that crossed my mind was the questions, " What should I do?"

Finally, with a little courage, I presented myself to my new principal at MTSBA.