Memories of childhood ...

I remember days of old,
the days of long ago ...
I remember the little loving things that we do,
and all the little secrets shared, too ...
as we grew, from seven little girls, such sights to woo,
everything we had, we shared, its true ...
I remember the tense whisperings, in the day
with school fees and school books to pay;
and dad would sit alone, deep in thought,
late into the nights, i was told;
I remember mum's anxious looks
whenever i coughed, sneezed or wheezed ...
worse, when one of us was detected -
with a defect to her heart ...
more whisperings were heard in the nights,
and mum walked into the bedroom
with her empty rice pot in one hand, dazed ...!
I remember all the happy times, too
when we would dress the younger ones up -
to dance and bring the smiles on grandpa's wrinkled face ...
I remember the baking of little sand cookies,
decorated with lovely little colourful flowers ...
and how the walk to visit the other gramps were put off -
as we came racing home, driven by fear of copters droning overhead!
I remember the same family walks, escorted by mum and dad, to gramps' -
with the owl hooting, perched on a fence, later on moonlit or dark nights ...
I remember, too, threading the squirmy worms to our line
as we followed mum and dad to fish in the monsoon-filled drains ...
taking off our shirts to stand under the plunging waterfall from the roof when it rains,
or crawling on the sandy bed of the crystal clear longkang after the rains ...
I remember the newly-weds, Mr Peter Pereira and his Chinese bride from Seremban,
and the fearful, wife-beating, pots-flying inspector neighboour and his black-eyed wife;
I remember the 'band and bandits' games we played with the neighbour's boys,
and sword clashing fights with the leaf-stems from the papaya plant!
I also recall chicken rearing and granny's kerepek ubi-making days:
and how teacher's eggs got smashed, but the kerepek packets sold like hot cakes!
I remember how we fought off hawks from the little chicks, together with the mother hen,
and found hissing, slithering monitor lizards and snake skins in the chicken barn,
and on sleepy afternoons, watching little ducklings waddling happily in a basin of water,

or taking a tumble with the little ones: feet dangling from dad's home-made swing!

most oft leisurely hours are spent saddled snugly on a branch of the old guava tree:

a fresh guava in one hand, a Beano, Dandy, Enid Blyton or Women's Weekly in the other!

and whenever the circus comes to town, the elephants got to taste them, too:

whole plastic bags of red guavas and white guavas, all ripened - not just a few!
I remember mum sewing beautiful embroideries on baju kebayas for sale -
that we helped to flatten to perfection, knocking away with little hammers ...

and the identical dresses she sewed for all of us, but one, each new year:

(the youngest was always dressed in shorts, you see),

so when friends came to the house and asked, "How many sons have thee?"

dad would smile and say,"See for thyself, my friend, see!"

Later i remember getting red dresses while others got rose pink, sky blue or apple green:

"To keep your sickly spirits strong, and chase away evil spirits," was mum's reply!
Then i remember school days, and our hair flying in the wind -
as jeans-clad young 'Ajeh' (Aziz) raced others home in our trishaw!
and weekends when mum would let us choose our favourite kuihs
from the basket the makcik carried, or the ones from the huge tray she had on her head ...
and in the afternoons she would come with colourful mengkuang mats, skillfully woven,
to trade for used clothing for her children, or old sarongs and bajus for herself ...

I remember dad's bachelor-day very 'western' recipe:

hot rice with butter, a pinch of salt, an egg and lots of pepper!

and how he taught us to fry our favourite fish with asam jawa:

"Sqeeze it with some water, then throw away the juice and fry the fish with the seeds ..."

and when mum wondered why the asam fish was looking so pale,

there were sheepish smiles and giggles: even little baby sis in her hospital crib grinned!
I'll always remember our favourite childhood meals:
rice, with fried tenggiri or kembung, and black kicap -
and on days when i recall those moments,
I'll be tucking into a plateful of rice, with fried tenggiri or kembung, and black kicap ...