It’s been two weeks since I moved into my new home.
I left with a mixed feeling. Of course Hamna did leave a big emotional impact on me...having been there since May this year.
But it had to be done...Hamna is just too crowded. The parking lot was packed with cars...the environment was only a bit better than awful. And not a day passed without a doubt casted on my mind about the state of the tap water. Hamna is deteriorating badly...the whole area should be demolished and rebuild from scratch.
I’ll miss that cute, cherub little Chinese girl on the ground floor. Daughter of a very young mom, that innocent look caught my attention whenever I passed through her little comfort home. She just can’t stop playing with herself. There were no less than seven people packed into that house. I don’t know how they could live in that condition.
Next to the house, resides a family of Indian Muslim. They spoke alternately between Tamil and Malay. Once, they conducted a Yassin recital ceremony inside the house, with the door widely open. But religious tolerance is widely practiced here...everybody respects other’s religion and beliefs.
On the fourth floor of the building opposite mine, lives an old man of Indian origin. I suspect he is an Indian Muslim too. Everyday, he’ll sit on the balcony, with books on his hands. He’ll read and read...sometimes for three to four hours long, until late evening. He’s very old...I wonder where did he derive that insane stamina from.
Just in front of my house, lives a family of African origin. On their left is an Indian family...and an eccentric Chinese group living on their right. There was a time deep inside one late night, a young Chinese man laid unconscious in front of my house. It terrified me indefinitely...I really thought he was dead. A group of men, believed to be his friends, promptly explained to us that he was drunk. They picked him up and brought him inside their house with a burst of laughter.
It was a nostalgic moment when Ah Yong and Kamarul paid a brief visit to the house. It was there Hafiz humbled Sabri again and again in the game of football. Sabri grew tired of that and struck a boycott from the game. Amir came once in a while...to watch football or to have a simple chat with me. It was there that our relationship strengthened...I gradually learned and understood the inner side of him.
It was a memorable moment, and it left a lasting impact on my mind. I don’t know when will I visit Hamna again, but from the look of it, it just won’t happen in the near future. Thanks for all the memories, Hamna...you’ll be out of sight, but not out of my mind...