Missing Johor

I finally arrived in KL . I hated this city, but I have to learn to love it. I imagined Shah's wife who came all the way from Pakistan, who grew up in totally foreign environment, weather, language, food. The challenge for her to get used to the living standard in... God, it must be awful for her. I'm glad that Shah bought that lovely house for her and the baby. She hates lizard as much as I do. I imagine she hates cockroaches too.

My room is about 70% the size of the room I occupied in Jen's house. The rental is 6 times more expensive. No, make it 12 times more expensive, because Jen paid RM20 rental for her whole house. It makes you think I'm born without a brain huh? I'm beginning to think the same too. At the back of my house, at certain hours of the day, there are terrible noises going on RIGHT BEHIND MY ROOM. My housemates are nice people, but I don't think they are the type who would roll around on the floor laughing over some crude jokes, like Kak Za, Yana & I did sometimes. No, most of the time. Or the type who would spend one night chit-chatting about all sort of things like Jen & I used to do. I mean. For cry out sake, they were IIU graduates. They laugh. Moderately.

When I reached KL, I almost cried again because the Putra lrt station was closed (how could they close it?), and none of the taxi wanna send me to Gombak. I had to beg a taxi driver to send me there. Seeing my petite size, my almost-crying expression (the tough girl looked so pathetic that nite), and my so exhausted voice asking to be send to Gombak, the driver took pity to me. Amin. There is a human in this city.

In short, everything that happened that nite made me want to cry. After arranging my stuff neatly in my room, I fell asleep on my mattress, one hand clutching the tasbih beads and one single teardrop ran down the bridge of nose and ended its course on my chin. I felt so lonely.

Day 1 in the foreign city. It rained on New Year day. I tried to mingle with my housemates. But it felt awkward. I went into my room and leant against the wall, staring at the opposite wall and hugging the Pink Panther small pillow that Layla gave before I left. When you hug it, think about us especially me. I read my diary. I tried everything to make me feel happy.

I switched on my mp3 player and listened to the recording of Ainie's, Survivor's & Jen's very sexy voice and smiled at the memory of Jen holding a cutlinary knife at Ainie threateningly, 'One more word,' as Ainie laughed at her very sexy voice. It rained the whole day. I didn't eat at all from the nite I arrived until last nite.

After Isya', I lay down on one side, on my left cheek, listening to my own breath. I have to survive. I have to go out and find the way to office tomorrow. I counted the tasbih beads and puzzled over the tangled part. Then I just closed my hand over it and thought, God, I hardly remember You.

I remembered telling the story of the beginning of mankind to an attentive Jen. I told the story until the arrival of the last prophet over a cup of chilled coke in McD.

Heaven and earth, and else in between. I miss Jen. I hope my story makes sense to her. There's so much I want to tell her. There's no more time to tell her.

I brought her to the lake on my last day in JB. I hope she finds the time to find herself while listening to the music of water cascading down, and watching the fishes swimming in the water. I visited my professor's house. He helped me a lot when I was in bad shape financially.

I love Johor and I'm missing it desperately. I'm homesick. Help me. I'm missing all the things and all the people I left behind.

Every memory of lookin' out the back door
I got the photo album spread out on my bedroom floor
It's hard to say it, time to say it
Goodbye, goodbye

Every memory of walkin' out the front door
I found the photo of the friend that I was lookin' for
It's hard to say it, time to say it
Goodbye, goodbye.

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