This morning, the house stirred early. My mum reminded me to be careful as she washed the toilets, then told me to take my things and go out before she started the vacuum cleaner. She mentioned buying fish porridge for me, though pig liver soup was too heavy. Between words, she reminded me again to brush up my speaking and vocabulary — lessons tucked into ordinary mornings.
On bus 28, I carried my thoughts with me. After alighting, I used the toilet, though the door kept banging as I tried to find a moment’s quiet. When I stepped out, the lady walked in, and I moved on — crossing the road, taking the lift to the overhead bridge, descending the stairs, and finding there was no seat. Saufiq spotted me and teased as always. “Celine, you dreaming. Play handphone,” he said. I only answered that I saw the bus and would stop it. Around me, a lady coughed and kicked lightly in front, while the noise of the morning carried on.
My colleague might bring me to the pasar malam after work, but at home, mum’s reminders of the seventh month echoed. She said not to go out after work, not to wander late. Her voice carried warning after warning: if I insisted, she would not waste time buying dinner. So I said I would go home after work, yet thanked her still for reminding me.
Old memories rose — darker ones — like when I once cut my own arm. The sharpness of those days still lingers, even in quieter moments now.
Later, I greeted a colleague. “Good morning,” I said. He returned the greeting warmly and asked how I was. I admitted I was feeling a little emo. My mum scolded me yesterday for keeping things under her bed, for a hat she found, for small things. She even threatened not to buy dinner this morning. I said I missed him, and he listened softly.
The day carried both teasing and gentleness. Teck Mui and Kun Ling massaged me, though Kun Ling laughed about her elbow pain and some colleagues joined in the laughter at my expense. I stayed silent, waiting as Mr. Satha often reminded me. Inside, I held both the sting of their laughter and the warmth of being noticed.
Plans drifted toward lighthearted things — a Hello Kitty café, tea and cake, a quiet corner indoors. In that imagining, I felt a little steadier, even if home reminders still tugged at me.
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🌸 Closing Reflection:
Today began with warnings, with scolding, with memories that cut deep. Yet there were also softer threads — greetings, massages, light jokes, the thought of a pastel café. I am still learning how to hold both at once: the heavy and the light, the warnings and the small dreams. Maybe that is what balance is — carrying them quietly, and still choosing a soft place to sit inside my heart.