I recently met up with a childhood friend over tea. We both spent our teenage years together in the small town of Ipoh.We rarely meet and its funny how when we finally did, it was in another country.
1 lovely comments ✿ Janna and I spoke about so many things. That's the thing about childhood friends. We can not see each other for over a year and have no contact but when we do meet, it's as if we were never apart. We both have been away from Ipoh for quiet some time and when we spoke about the town it was as if we were speaking about something foreign.
"Every time I go back, there's a new building"
"Do you know how many little cafes they have there now?!"
"I go to church and I don't even feel like I fit in anymore"
"My
conversation with everyone I meet in Ipoh revolves around 'how are your
studies ?' or 'how are you ?' and then a dead silence because there's
nothing else to talk about"
"Who are all these new people in church and which baby belongs to who ?!?."
As we talked, there was something we agreed on -we both no longer felt at home in Ipoh. And then there was the questions- If Ipoh was no longer home, then where is home? It certainly was not KL for me and neither was it Singapore for Janna. And for a good minute, the both of us were left to ponder about our belonging, or in this case, the lack of it. There was no conclusion. The epiphany came it the last minutes of our meet up. And for me, this was the highlight of my trip. Janna went "You know, maybe we had the whole concept of home wrong all along. Maybe home isn't a place. Maybe home is the people you're with. Like I can be anywhere in the world, it doesn't matter, but if I'm with you, then I'm home".
And that's when I knew that Janna was very right.
I had the whole concept of home wrong all along.
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