Every time I crossed Batu Pahat Bridge on my way back from Melaka,
I recalled that Tuesday in 2006 when I had broken down in tears for Dad. This time, having a guest in my car, I was rather busy describing landmarks.
VC suggested that we went there the next day as an exercise.
During our stroll, I chose to drop by in front of my family's old house where I had grown up with my parents and five other siblings until the age of eighteen. The previous tenants had just moved out from this single terrace house which my family were still keeping for rent.
When I was small, once I slipped into this drain while squatting next to my brother Ah Yu.
Now the little girl turned adult no longer spat chewing gum onto uncovered sewers.
Opposite the house was the kindergarten where I had been first taught to sing English songs at five years old. The sole memory I have is that one day, Mum dressed me up so nicely that a boy in my class literally chased after me! As I tried to run away from him, I lost my balance, fell and cried. It took me years to recover from the negative thought that taking care of my appearance might cause me trouble with the opposite gender...
At the end of the road
was where my former primary school good friend had lived before she shifted to another residential area with her family. I used to enjoy lingering on at her house almost every afternoon after school and sometimes stayed back for dinner. That was definitely the first place where I had learned hospitality.
During the secondary school times, I often cycled to the bridge which was very near the old house
to admire Batu Pahat River.
The mountain bike that I had bought with my school holiday job salary was spoilt and sent to the recycle centre several years ago. For safety reasons, I did no return to the bridge on foot even though it was not far from my present house.
Under the big bridge, we came to this small one which was solid enough to support the weight of a man with a motorbike.
The other side of the bridge gave me the view from another angle of Batu Pahat Bridge
and Batu Pahat river.
There was a park which I had never visited previously.
Since my "bodyguard" was around, I was bold to climb onto abandoned construction machines further down at the river side.
The third day, we were going back to Melaka. Before our departure, I needed to sign a few documents in an office which was opposite my former secondary school. So I had a chance to see from far the building at the foot of a hill.
If I started to recount old stories of this school where I had spent six happiest years of my life in Batu Pahat, I doubt one whole day would be sufficient.
When we were on Muar Bridge, I knew I had to temporarily leave my Batu Pahat memories behind.
Thanks for your company, VC!
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