Dear Diary;


The big 4.0. Yes. I have reached that milestone. a breakthrough in age. Alhamdullilah,  I manage to live this long. Counting my blessings until this day. A year has passed since I last wrote in. I guess this blog is meant for a yearly write up, nothing less than that which brought me to a story that I wanted to share, about my secret childhood crush I had when I was 9 years old. Hahaaaaa...you'd be surprised! Don't be!

It all started when I first moved in to Taman Desa Aman, Kuala Lumpur from Kuantan, Pahang. The year was 1984. My parents bought their first home there. Once a rubber estate, it  had been turned into a housing area. I was 7 years old back then and the thought of moving to Kuala Lumpur was not something I looked forward to. The real truth was....I hated it. I was so used to live next to the beach, in a government officer bungalow with huge compound that you could even build a swimming pool (dream goal..not checked),  befriended  the butterflies, ladybirds, caterpillar, snakes, scorpions and a cool chimpanzee (that was my friend, no kidding, it belonged to my neighbor who was a Pahang Royalty). Nevertheless, what choice did I have? NADA.

So there I  was, in Kuala Lumpur, being downgraded from the most wonderful environment and lifestyle a child could ever dream off with nothing really interesting to look forward to. Life was pretty boring in Kuala Lumpur. I did't have anywhere to go after school except playing at the house compound of a double story terrace house. I didn't have friends living nearby so my evenings were spend at the small squarish front porch, kicking some balls with my younger brothers and watering the plants. I went to an all girls school, previously in Assunta Kuantan and then in SRK Dato' Abu Bakar (1) Girls School, KL. I loved being in the girls school, I do until now coz it just gave me a sense of pride; having surrounded myself with my girlfriends. In fact, being in girls school was like a license to freedom. Freedom to do just about anything crazy, within the boundary set by our school principle of course. No 'boys', no 'you have to sit properly the boys are watching", no 'please wear proper baju kurung and not pinafores'.

Going to school was tough though. I had to wake up very early in the morning; at 5.00 am as my bus would arrive at 5.30 am. I would sleep standing (yes, I was a pro at doing that, trust me!) and I would only able to find a seat at usually the last 5 minutes before I reached school, just when  my butt was about to get the comfort rest. Life continued just the way it was for almost 2 years....and then something happened; something that brought glorious technicolor to my mundane life.

I remember the day vividly. I was 9 years old, to be exact and have made some friends with 2 Chinese siblings who lived 3 doors away.  We were busy playing badminton when a handsome Malay boy came by to join us. He looked a bit older than me. He was then followed by his younger brother, who I didn't really pay much attention to anyway. Little that I realized he was in fact my neighbor, a door away from Mrs. Chong and he had been living there for almost 2 years. I was star-struck! What the hell! Why didn't I realize that! A boy that cute would melt my heart away. What a lost of 2 boring years, I thought to myself.

Being in girls school did crazy things to your hormones. They made you more conscious with boys (only with boys that you thought you like) and made you shy away from them. I was doing just that. I realized after that day, I seldom joined the badminton game outside the house again, just because I was too shy. In the end, this handsome Malay boy took over as the new badminton player; and I was left watching from inside the house. As time passed by, I realized I had a crush on him, the boy whose name was Aizal. The feelings appeared without me realizing,  and it came out of the blue moon. Was it because of his looks? Definitely, he was the most handsome boy I've seen so far, or was it because of his charm? I didn't think so because he seemed too shy to even start a conversation. Nevertheless, I don't know till now whether the feelings that I had for him is mutual. Call it Puppy Love, or Monkey Love, I didn't care. Because all I knew was I was falling for him.

There were times when my mom would cook nice dishes, and would sent me instead of my sister to deliver the cooked food to his house. Little too shy, I braved myself to ring on his door to deliver them, managing to get a glimpse of him and that would be enough to make me smile the whole week. It was not so long after his parents came to my parents house and broke the news that they planned to transfer to a different neighbourhood, and overhearing the conversation, I rushed and locked myself in my room, only to have my self buried on the pillow crying my eyes out.