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Form 2 essay ( 1 )


Back to My Memory Lane

I could not sleep at all but kept tossing on my bed hoping for the sun to break the dawn. I was overwhelmed with excitement thinking of the unprecedented trip down the memory lane to my hometown, situated at the confluence of the river following into the Straits of Malacca. Cockerels began to crow to announce the break of dawn, I began to feel languid because my eyes could hardly open.


          As usual, I brushed my teeth and had a mouthwatering breakfast at a nearby restaurant. When the sun was over our heads, I finally entered the narrow road decorated with pot holes to the village by bus. At the corner of my eyes, I could see that there was only a village woman sitting at the back with her hair covering her profile. She looks very familiar to me but when her profile was slowly accentuated when she lifted up her head, I could not recognize her.


          As the bus entered the only main road of the village, I could see house on stilts stretching to the sea and the landmark became vivid in my mind. Rubber estates, river banks, paddy field and chicken farms were our favourite haunts. Despite being infested with mosquitoes, leeches, the occasional encounter with snakes, especially cobras, such places were still haven for us, otherwise where else to go in the village.


          The bus stopped and I asked the bus driver for directions which leads me to my grandparent’s house deep in the rubber estates. I was about to take a step off the bus, the bus driver mentioned about my grandfather’s name and he wanted to show me the directions to my destination, my grandfather’s house. He also said that my countenance had my grandfather’s features. Well, it was two peas in a pod I guessed. The bus driver pointed to a path while telling me the directions. I smiled in response and kept nodding my head to each collaborated detail. The coupe d’├ętat before I leave the bus, I took a photograph with the bus driver who has a heart of gold. After the bus went off after dropping me down, I looked at the photograph and I saw the village woman was standing at the back showing her sweet smile at the back too.


          With my backpack on my shoulder, I kept following the path under the sun-drenched afternoon heat. I was exhausted having trudge up the undulating path. I took a rest and sat on a rock and had some drink from my bottle to quench my thirst. As I was going to stand up and continue my walk, I heard the sound of an old rickety bicycle approaching me out of the blue. It was the village woman that was on the bus a while back was wearing a typical straw hat halted as if premeditated. Nevertheless, I asked her for directions to my grandparent’s house. Her eyes were radiant and her smile captivated me that very instant. She pointed to the left direction not too far away from the path where I was. Then, she lurched forward and paddled her bicycle away.


          I followed her direction and as I turned left, my cousins were the first to see me and the commotion of my arrival had everyone in the house rushing out including my grandfather with his walking stick. Their lives were so humble and their warm welcome of hospitality made me feel like a fish out of the water.


          That night after dinner, I sat down in the living room and flicked over the photo album. I was shocked when I saw a photograph of the old woman who had shown me direction. I asked my grandfather who she was, and he told me that she was my long dead grandmother. Immediately, my hair stood on in the air and deep inside my heart, I knew that she had welcomed me home too.

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