Flash backs

I am satisfied with the way things are going now.

Personally, I consider myself as quite successful. At least, I don’t have 6 kids in tow with a body like a hippo dealing with a cheating husband.

I bumped into an ex classmate while buying break fast at kampong Melayu. She had a booth, selling baju kurungs and stuff. I didn’t realize it was her until she asked me if I am who she thought I was.

It took me quite sometime to recognize her. She has changed so much. She was fleshier, wearing a tudung and a cotton baju kurung, with a baby carrier slung on her. The baby was her youngest of 5 kids. She doesn’t look 28, she looked much more older. She even smells old.

She told me that she has been selling clothes for many years. She got married a year after we finished secondary school, and she apologized for not inviting me because she heard I was in KL studying. I told her we were never that close anyway so I don’t mind.

She filled me in with stories of our other classmates. Most of the girls of class 95/96 seemed to have gotten married or engaged at least. I told her I wouldn’t know because I don’t really keep in touch and to be honest, aside from my best friend who is now an executive with Jport, I don’t know (and actually don’t care but I didn’t tell her that of course) about the other classmates. I don’t like to be reminded of my boarding school years, it was one of the worst times of my life.

She said that I look different, but somehow the same. It turned out that some of the girls bumped into me and actually recognized me but none of them had the guts to say hi. They said, they got intimidated.

*“Yela kan. Tengok la you macam mana, tengokla pulak I ni macam mana.” She said.

I was in a pair of blue jeans, sneakers and polo T-shirt with minimal make up and was wearing my geeky glasses. Man, I must have REALLY looked very intimidating. Or maybe I was less intimidating that day because she had the guts to approach me after all.

We exchanged numbers and I left.

I don’t know if I am supposed to be flattered that I was looked upon as intimidating because I am more successful (Or, kind of successful.) or that I am supposed to be concerned about how intimidatingly arrogant I looked like to other people.

Walking down memory lane is peculiar. It makes you think of weird stuff. Once in a while you bump into bits and pieces of your past, and you feel, heck, it’s worth it, because the past did in some way mould you into the person you are now. Though I would want to go back and change my haircut and trim my out of control brows those days.

On my way home from the bazaar and alone in my car, I figured, heck, I am glad that I turned out to be who I am right now, because it’s exactly how I want my life to be, not perfect but independent. And I don’t have 6 kids in tow with a body like a hippo dealing with a cheating husband.


*I mean, look at how you look, and look at how I look.