BLACK AND WHITE

The prized black and white TV behind us.

L-R: Maz, Gayah, Jab, Me and Lina. See how we posed on the sofa.

My uncles, cousins and siblings in the stilt house

My youngest uncle's wedding. Maz and Lina were the bridesmaid.

The huge compund of the house. Everywhere was a playground

GROWING UP

Remembering the past can be painful. You can't buy the lost time nor can you bring it forward. One of my wonderful chapters growing up was having my siblings and cousins all cooped up in our huge grandma's rumah panggung or stilt house. We would tell ghost stories and traded the daily events from each other's experiences.

My childhood was free and I was like the wild child of my dreams. I created my own fun, built friendship and immersed myself in the kampung setting. You would never find me hibernating and keeping still at one corner. I would be a butterfly, flitting from one place to another and hiding myself among the sunflowers or the rows and rows of tapiaco plants on the hill slope.

There were so many things to occupy myself that I dreaded the evening sun. It meant that I had to report back home to granny and have a shower. No more going out after dusk or the hantu gulung, orang minyak or the pontianak would hide you. Tell that creepy and eerie warning to a nine year old and nothing would ever drag me after dusk from the house. You know why? The stilt house was surrounded by giant trees and the next neighbour was about 60 metres away. It could be spooky at night with no street lights. My grandma's house would be a perfect set for filming one of those haunted stories for The Incredible Tales.

However, life was less complicated back then. We survived with very little money and anything and everything could offer us simple pleasures and loud guffaws. When I say I enjoy my life back then, I really meant it... with an OOOMPH!