My Favorite
.
In our lives, some people colour it more beautifully than others. I call them my favourite people. They are among the nicest people we meet in our lives.
My cousins Awang, Bob, Idrus and Halim are some of my favorite people. They are much younger than I am and I watched them grow up over the years. Their faces would light up whenever they see me and they would always come over to me to shake my hands. Over the years, the very effort of coming over to wherever I am whenever they see me endeared them to me. And on my part, I am delighted whenever I see them, for I know that I could count on a few minutes of very interesting conversation and delightful banter among cousins. All of them are tall, all of them are good looking and it gives me immense pleasure introducing them to anyone I’m with.
My biras is another one. A very cultured, tea-loving anglophile, it is very hard to find fault in him. He could talk about anything and nothing that comes out of his mouth does not make sense. Over the one and a half decade that I have known him, I could probably think of maybe, maybe……….. well, nothing actually, that I don’t like about him. Lina knows that we’d depart for home a little later whenever he is around and I think he does the same too when I am around. I change plans to be at my in-laws’ place if I know he is coming too and not a few times he’d be there earlier or when we are not expecting him and his family and I have this suspicion that my presence had something to do with it.
In primary school, there was Zukiman. He was a magnificent footballer but looking at his soft-spoken persona and slight physique, it would be hard to imagine him as such. He reminds me so much of Platini, who similarly looks unintimidating, until he has the ball. I remember him coming over to my high school when he was playing for VI and I proudly told my schoolmates that there guy tearing our defence to shreds is my best buddy in primary school. And Rauf is about the only person in the world who could go about holding, grasping my hands, arms and shoulders, putting his hand on the nape of my neck whenever we meet. He still does that but I don’t mind, for he is one of my favorite people.
There are a few others, from high school and the years beyond. They are the people who could get away with murder with me but they never need to because they are simply nice people. There are people who taught me about cheesecakes and crumpets. It used to be that dessert is something that people only do on television. We uncultured folks have got no time for dessert or tea. About cornflakes for breakfast. About being a more civilized person. People who would forgive me for being half an hour late and who would forgive me for not doing what is expected of me. Who likes the tip of my nose and hates my temper. One or two whom I’d call adik. Two maybe……
And the most wonderful thing is that many of them, though not all, would stay with me throughout my life. Some would come and go. But as one of them said, no “hal”, no matter, for they still colour my life.
.
In our lives, some people colour it more beautifully than others. I call them my favourite people. They are among the nicest people we meet in our lives.
My cousins Awang, Bob, Idrus and Halim are some of my favorite people. They are much younger than I am and I watched them grow up over the years. Their faces would light up whenever they see me and they would always come over to me to shake my hands. Over the years, the very effort of coming over to wherever I am whenever they see me endeared them to me. And on my part, I am delighted whenever I see them, for I know that I could count on a few minutes of very interesting conversation and delightful banter among cousins. All of them are tall, all of them are good looking and it gives me immense pleasure introducing them to anyone I’m with.
My biras is another one. A very cultured, tea-loving anglophile, it is very hard to find fault in him. He could talk about anything and nothing that comes out of his mouth does not make sense. Over the one and a half decade that I have known him, I could probably think of maybe, maybe……….. well, nothing actually, that I don’t like about him. Lina knows that we’d depart for home a little later whenever he is around and I think he does the same too when I am around. I change plans to be at my in-laws’ place if I know he is coming too and not a few times he’d be there earlier or when we are not expecting him and his family and I have this suspicion that my presence had something to do with it.
In primary school, there was Zukiman. He was a magnificent footballer but looking at his soft-spoken persona and slight physique, it would be hard to imagine him as such. He reminds me so much of Platini, who similarly looks unintimidating, until he has the ball. I remember him coming over to my high school when he was playing for VI and I proudly told my schoolmates that there guy tearing our defence to shreds is my best buddy in primary school. And Rauf is about the only person in the world who could go about holding, grasping my hands, arms and shoulders, putting his hand on the nape of my neck whenever we meet. He still does that but I don’t mind, for he is one of my favorite people.
There are a few others, from high school and the years beyond. They are the people who could get away with murder with me but they never need to because they are simply nice people. There are people who taught me about cheesecakes and crumpets. It used to be that dessert is something that people only do on television. We uncultured folks have got no time for dessert or tea. About cornflakes for breakfast. About being a more civilized person. People who would forgive me for being half an hour late and who would forgive me for not doing what is expected of me. Who likes the tip of my nose and hates my temper. One or two whom I’d call adik. Two maybe……
And the most wonderful thing is that many of them, though not all, would stay with me throughout my life. Some would come and go. But as one of them said, no “hal”, no matter, for they still colour my life.
.
posted by dudae_simboyo at 18:11
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