27/02/2022
I love pretty things. I don't always buy stuff, but when I do, I buy things that evoke sentimental values to soothe my broken soul.
I bought this sarong today.
It is so pretty that I couldn't resist it.
Guess where I got it from and for how much?
I got it from 99 Speedmart, of all places 😂
And it costs only RM13.90.
My late Grandmother was a sarong-wearer.
When she was alive, I would spoil her with sarongs.
I would pick the 'most prettiest' sarongs from the bundles that stacked up against one another in the sarong stall in Thailand, in Kelantan or whenever or wherever I stumbled upon sarong-sellers..
It was always that, I'd just walk past these shops without thinking too much about them, until a particular sarong design beckons at me from the stash stacked up/ spread out in full display.
I just couldn't.
There's always this soft spot in my heart for sarongs, because it reminds me of her and her only.
When Grandmother passed..
(ok, heartache)
When Grandmother passed, my Auntie said we could choose some of her belongings to keep with us as a token of commemoration to remember her by.
I took one set of the vintage clothes she used to wear for travelling (Grandmother loved travelling in groups), and another blouse which she would wear to go to the market or at home with her sarongs, and one Emerald and Deep Ocean Blue sarong which I bought her, which was adorned all over by Peacock Feathers and Peonies.
And I kept these sentimental belongings of her with me in my cupboard at my Mother's home.
Sometime in the 90s, when I was around 11 or 12 years of age, I followed my Grandmother on a tour to Terengganu.
There, the bus driver stopped at a sarong-making factory, where she would give me the opportunity to help pick for her two sarongs of my choosing.
I can still remember vividly, that while she loved all the designs and was spoilt for choice, she would grant me the honour of helping her make the decision for her, when it came to picking up items she would wear everyday, from thereon.
Some people won't let anyone do it for them.
But, after that, everytime she wore those sarongs at home, I would say, "These are the ones I picked for you, right, Popo?"
I wouldn't stop saying it to her, because I was proud of myself for picking out lovely things for her that I thought she would loved, anyway, no matter how 'ugly' they might look.
I can relive my moments with her like it was yesterday, when I hardly was yet done growing up.
So, yeah.
Taking peeks at sarongs at grocery stores, or pasar pagi where an old Uncle or old Auntie is squatting by the lowered deck at the side of the market walkways, is a proclivity that I can never shake off quite easily for the rest of my life.
Whenever this happens, I would think, 'I used to have her to by for.'
Sometimes, the emotion becomes too much to bear that I would force myself to walk away abruptly, so that I won't have to break down and cry in public. That would be stupid of me.
There has never been yet another person who's had such an indelible mark on me as much as her. Because my Popo, she didn't need to let me know she loved me. She let me become the person that I was, or am, from just being there for me, ever so present in my life albeit not having had to do so much as to be talkative.
She was an iron woman, who'd thought the least necessary to burden anyone else with her innermost thoughts while she kept the burden of carrying them all to herself.
Let it stay within the family.
But one thing certain about her was the fact that, my Grandmother was a cynical person.
She was cynical about other people's intention, and when she was ready to express them, she need only say a one-liner, and it would turn out so poetically hilarious, that one was required to think a moment before arriving at the meaning of her jest.
The burst of laughter from everyone else soon followed, and we'd not be able to breathe by the time we finished laughing.
Her sarcasm was deep and yet expressed in a manner so innocuous, you'd think it to be a joke, but it was intended to recalibrate you back to checking your manners before you dealt with her again.
Somedays maybe, I might write about my Mother, my aunts, my cousins..
until then, they are still around, well and dandy.
But it's been a good ride, had it not been for the Covid-19 pandemic.
We haven't seen one another for such a long time, as they are all over the region, but not at home, busy with their own lives.
Family is so important, and yet, circumstances have demanded our separation for ages now.
For sure, we are not happy about that, but then, what can we do?
Until then, here I am, in my own room, doing my own thing, while having my newly-bought sarong draped over my books and stuff before me, to remind me of the things that brought meaning to my life.
These meanings meant substantially for me.
There are a lot of people in the world, who yearn for meaningful days, but memories are created.
If we knew that these memories were going to keep us alive, maybe then, people would be careful about the sort of memories they want to create for themselves on a clean canvas.
You need to be careful about the memories you create, because these memories are going to be the reasons and purpose that would keep you going for the rest of your lives.
My meaning, was my late Grandmother. She always has been, and never for a single day that I was alive that she wasn't the meaning of my life, along with much prayers to God to continue blessing and watching over my whole family.
I love my family.
They are all I have got.
My personal journey.
