The Journey Back To The East

The morning was cold.

Using a motorcycle, at 5am, in the chilling temperature, we braved our way from his house in suburb of Sarikei to the King’s Inn in town.

It felt like Sibu 15 years ago. Cold. Very. Along the way I realised that cats in Sarikei are not good pedestrian. Few kitties rested unpeacefully on the road. What a mess.

Six fifteen a.m. and we headed to Sibu by bus. The sun rose slowly from the horizon, right in front of us, above the road. It seemed as if we were heading to the sun.

It was always in front of us. We were chasing and kept chasing it all along the way, though we never get any nearer to it. The distance became further instead.  A journey to the East? Haha!

Sitting at the front seat, I have all the privileged to enjoy the beautiful sunrise. At that moment, that was the most beautiful thing everyone can see. Of course, both the driver and me had the best view of it.

As we moved on, the bus overtook a number of cars and heavy vehicles. At one time, the bus tailed behind an old Honda Civic. A brown, slow and rusty good old car.

At the big rear screen of the car was a little girl in pyjamas. A lovely little girl. She was looking out from the car, as if she was counting the number of the cars which overtook them.

I can see her clearly. Oval face, two beautiful little eyes and short hair.

Resting her head on her both palms, she enjoyed looking at the huge bus following behind them.

Our eyes met. She showed me her both palms. Then she hided her face behind them for a while. Just before the bus overtook them, she showed her face again. And that’s another most beautiful thing which only seen by me. And perhaps the driver too.

I did not know why but looking at her made me felt at peace. The worries and the restless voices in the head had gone quiet. Calm. Silent. The only sound I can hear was the roaring engine of the bus, my own heart beat and the sound of the morning. I feel hope. I feel future. I feel life. It was a magical moment.

A magical moment. Why? Perhaps she reminded me of her. Someone who loved me more than myself do. In this world, there are only two ladies who love me more than myself. One is my mum and another is her. And now I wonder, if she did that too when she was small; looking out from the rear window of the car and communicate with strangers with her own language.

I love you, my dear. <3