Mum

My mother was born in a small town in Pahang. It is a beautiful colonial town, situated on the slopes of the Titiwangsa ranges - the spine of ranges that run north-south and split the Peninsula Malaysia into its eastern and western halves.

There are barely two rows of shophouses in town, and the one-way road encircle the town as though it is a giant round about. The giant roundabout of shophouses is split right in the middle by Cross Street, a pedastrian walk path lines both sides by little shops and hawker stalls.

Mum was born in Cross Street.

She grew up in Cross Street; one of 8 daughters and 2 sons.

She was given up for adoption in Cross Street, if not for her eldest brother who came home after school and took her back in a bus that was about to move on the top end of Cross Street.

She grew up in Cross Street; took her daily bath in the river at the bottom of Cross Street.

She fought with her siblings for food in Cross Street, and met up with her friends in Cross Street.

She fell in love in Cross Street, and got married in Cross Street.

Her children were born there, and from there she sent them off to study overseas.

They settle far from Cross Street, many hours away.

And they visit her less and less often, and move farther and farther away.

Mum has grown up and grown old in Cross Street. But she has not grown further from her children wherever they are.