The Reluctant Return

Some say leaving home for the first time is the hardest. For me, I have already experienced leaving home on four occasions and I am about to face the fifth a few hours from now. From what I gather, it only gets harder each time.

When I left for Melbourne for the first time two years back, I had little or completely no hard feelings. I was strutting into that bright red AirAsia A330 with gusto and sky-high spirits, anticipating of what was in store for me in this new place I had heard so much about but had never seen before.

Today, much of that freshness has worn off.

Furthermore, there is still much for me to miss in Malaysia. After all, home is where the heart is.

I will have to admit that family rises above all the things in mind. Mom's constant nagging, heated disapproval and eventually the helpless acceptance of my behaviour; dad's persistent attempts to bond and his wisdom conveyed in silence; cheh's relentless jabs at my (non-existent) ego and her expression of relief when she has me to share her thoughts with; kong kong's doting and his series of advices; and just the presence and concern of family members mean so much to me. After spending a good three months with them, the thought of being in their absence for four months weighs my heart down.

In second place would be the food. Although I have been (over) indulging, gaining five kilos in the process, and have ticked off most of the boxes in my to-eat list, I still look forward to my next meal in Malaysia.

Farewell dinner: Balitong and Hokkien Mee

I understand that the reluctance in leaving is short lived and once I am back in Melbourne and not left with a choice of returning, I can do little other than sobering up and trying my best to enjoy the time I have there.

Inevitably, there will also be times when the thoughts about home will creep back into mind but that is the pain I have to live with. Perhaps I would find succour instead of agony in these thoughts in times of need.

Until next time, selamat tinggal Malaysia.