// flooded by memories //

my parents always sought the best for their children.
that resulted in their decision to pull out their roots in m'sia and 'emigrated' to s'pore.
in the name of the supposedly superior education system in their adopted homeland.

being at the prime of their youth at that point in time, they had no regrets of their decision.
however, now, twenty-two years later, the same cannot be said so.

though my parents have never spoken about their initial hardship, i imagine that sinking roots in a whole new country couldn't be easy, especially without the help of relatives.
while both of them held jobs, they were relatively new to the system in this country, yet a plethora of questions greeted them.
which housing estate to move into?
which childcare centre to send the kids to?
those decisions which their peers in m'sia would never have to make.

while they had adopted the new mentality of embracing education as the way to alleviate poverty, my family, in general , is a traditional one.
every chinese year in my childhood memory was filled with the loud thumping CNY songs played by my aunt's hi-fi system and the fire crackers that lit up the night skies, making loud noises that reverberated throught the night.
not to mention, the long and boring journey on the coach to m'sia.
i would always asked my parents the same question, "when are we going to reach?" every fifteen minutes or so.
while they were snoozing away, my sis and i would look out the windows, staring at the majestic mountains and the overflooded padi plantations, never for a second thought that this foreign country could have been our home.
even though my cousins and i only met twice or thrice a year, each time not lasting more than 5 days, we were united by the games we played.
i was impressed by their ability to create games out of nothing, improvise 'punishments' and 'rewards'.
as always, being 'punished' was as fun as being 'rewarded', hence losing a game wasn't a big deal but all of us so innocently went all out to win.
in fact, only my aunt's leather sofa and my uncle's prized mahogany table were the ones which suffered in our hands, being our hideout places.
at night, my cousins would reveal their stashes of fire crackers, from those which looked like an egg to those which look like mini umbrellas, the assortment was mind-boggling.
as the adults start to countdown to the new year, we joined the neighbouring kids to lit up those fire crackers, contributing to the noise.

i believe those happy memories, stored away in deep my mind, are also kept in those of my cousins'.

P.S Two of my cousins came to s'pore last weekend and that sort of evoke my memory. even though we are not as close now, the blood ties can never be cut.