"The one with Ramadhans in KK..."

It's been halfway into Ramadhan, and time flies at such extremities that we can already hear the tunes of Aidilfitri yearning through the corridors and hallways of shopping complexes everywhere.

Being now my second year celebrating the conjunction of Ramadhan and Aidilfitri in a much different note now makes it inevitable to not rekindle the fun, good old days of the yester-years. Days of which I experienced in a far differing manner and perspective. Looking back, it's definitely not like what it used to be. Of course, it doesn't give you that same feeling but doesn't mean it's not good - we grow up and take lead from out predecessors before. In a way it's a great thing, we have more control of our lives but I remind myself every year to not forget where it all came from.

When blue pants and tonne-heavy bags were the order of my days, I remember the town of KK to being more simple; no big windling roads, no big traffic jams; the times when it only took you 7 minutes to get to school in the brink of rush hour, and you didn't have to break your head figuring out where to get your milk and butter. Those were much easier times and each time I think back of this phase in my life I'm always engulfed with the warmest feelings.

The great thing about fasting in Sabah was the perks of buka puasa much, much earlier than those in Semenanjung. I mean waaaay earlier. And when you're a ten-year old kid, this luxury comes much wanted. Back then, we'd get our buka puasa stuffs from the military camp of Lok Kawi. Since many semenanjung-ians reside there we could find alternative meals that reminded us more of our kampung. So it'd be almost ritual that every saturday or sunday afternoon we'd go all the way there from Petagas, which was where we lived then. But, seeming it is that Lok Kawi gained such popular recognitions, and the road was still pretty darn post-independance - the roads were always pretty jammed the majority of the journey.

Alas, back then being a kid you didn't mind the nuisance as long as you're occupied. Luckily back then I could still talk Andi and Afzal of following so we'd wreak havoc in the car. Mom and Dad would scream to the back of their throats everytime Andi had his head out of the car window and Afzal moving up and about to the front and back. Me, more of getting scolded for doing 'damage' to the seats. Believe it or not there's still a burn stain evident in the backseat of our Spectron I inflicted; out of the curiosity of how the van's cigarette burner worked.

An hour, sometimes more we would take before being home again. Dulu rumah besar, so when we arrived back home we'd still continued on with our rascal behaviours. Drove Mom and Dad up the wall, we'd always manage to do.

The other funny thing is - the three of us didn't look forward to going for terawih every Ramadhan night. Don't plea denial guys; I know very well the both of you resented going as much as I did. So since Dad was a bit stern in those days we'd follow him to the Kepayan Mosque to pray. And boy, did we always 'pray' that Dad ate so much he'd occasionally had to balik awal because of 'bathroom issues'. Then we'd just make it through 8-rakaat je. I remember sometimes 12 or 14-rakaat. The ironic thing is that when we reached home, all of us would continue to eat despite being the reason of why we're home early from terawih. And back in the old house we had a HUGE, HUGE kitchen. Mind you; it is big. Just imagine being able to cycle around the kitchen - that's how big it was. So we'd always had supper together as a family then, since Mom was always fond of cooking something up off her spare time with Aiysha at home while we're away in Kepayan.

I always believed that you'll never have a second childhood. You'll only have one time growing up, so I was pretty lucky I had a great time then and was blessed with two darn-great partners in crime I've learned to call brothers. And going through Ramadhan every year back then was always much fun than now. Sometimes when we wanted to skip terawih - we'd climb out of Mom and Dad's windows into ours. Believe me, we did. Wasn't much of a task anyway. Those familiar with how our house was built would know.

A good mentor I knew told me back then that we lose the innocence and fun of life when we lose our childhood so always make full use of it while we still have it. In a way, it's not a bad thing. Just a reminder that who you are today, came from how you grew up.

Salam Ramadhan. Happy Nuzul Quran people.

-JeP