As I brave myself to step into Thurkah after almost 2 years of staying away, I wondered how could things stay so intact in this little restaurant and yet so much has changed in my life. How I wish my life had stayed as intact as this shop. Untouched, all the same, and familiar. But times are different now and though the same aunty may still be at the cashier, the same guy may come to take our order, it is no longer what it was like before. They don't recognize me anymore and the orders are no longer 'biasa'. The sense of familiarity in that little shop was so overwhelming to a point where I almost felt that if I just close my eyes for a second and open it again, the clock would have rewound to two years ago. He would have been ordering our usual thosais, with mutton perithal and koli curry for me. I would be sitting there looking at him, talking animatedly about some insignificant matter. He would be laughing at my stupid jokes and once in a while he would reach out his hand across the table and place it atop mine. Then the orders would come and we would eat and talk and eat and talk and later fight over who gets to pay.
Yet the situation today is somewhat similar, with a world of difference. This time I did the ordering, the man sitting across me getting excited over the Indian sweets being sold there, the food came, we ate and talked and ate and talked and I was all smiling and laughing at his jokes. Occasionally I would reach over and touch his hand and finally we fought over who gets to pay. Of course, I got my way. It used to be that I vowed never again to set foot inside this restaurant unless it is with Fareez. But that fine evening, I looked at my newfound companion as we left my car at the Melawati carwash, and the words just rolled off my tongue, "Would you like to have dinner at Thurkah while we wait for the car?" As I finished saying it, a sense of guilt overcame me, but it was soon replaced with calmness and comfort. As for where the calmness and comfort came from, I decided not to question a gift horse in the mouth. I took it as it is and moved with the flow. This newfound companion made it feel right to live again.
Some people may think that it was just a restaurant and I shouldn't make mountains out of a molehill. But Thurkah isn't just a mere restaurant to me. It was more than that. It was a place that held many memories of morning meals and dinners that symbolized something more than mere food. It was a familiar place that I avoided, fearing that setting foot in there again would simply bring tears to my eyes and unleash memories I have no intentions of awaking. But there I was, that fine Tuesday evening, and I was smiling and laughing. Indeed, it felt right to let myself live again.
Familiar places are like security blankets. They give off warmth and comfort when you stroll down memory lane and breathe in the familiar air. Memories rush back and you let yourself remember. But what happens after that? You sink into a bigger hole of depression and guilt and sadness. Which is why as much as I can, I avoid these familiar places. I hold them dear in my mind and in my heart, but i keep them at a distance, within reach yet not so close. However lately, I have been letting my guard down and allowing my walls of defenses to be slowly broken. I let myself revisit the old and familiar, at the same time wondering how my emotions would take it. At times it still feels like walking on a path of broken glass, but now I've got padded cushions underneath my feet. The memories are still there, they will never go away. The heartache has dulled somewhat but the pain is still apparent. The love is still going strong but I have found strength in allowing myself to live again. In the words of Doris Day, Que Sera Sera...whatever will be, will be. The future's not ours to see, que sera sera.....
Things we lost in the fire have a way of coming back to us sometimes, but in order to let it come back, we need to let somethings go. There's light at the end of the tunnel, we just have to brave ourselves to actually go through the tunnel. If we hover at the entrance, how will we know what awaits us on the other side? Hold on to your dreams and let yourself live again. Go through the tunnel and may you find what you've always been looking for. Hope is everywhere. Just don't forget to remember. The memories, the good times, the bad times, the laughter, the pain, the joy, the love, the passion, the dreams you shared... Familiar places sometimes requires a new face to remind you that you're not forgetting by letting go, you're not betraying anything, you're not doing anything wrong. All you're doing is giving yourself a chance to laugh, to smile, and to live again.
Just don't forget to remember what matters to you, because winter gets cold for those without warm memories....
Having said that, que sera sera....whatever will be, will be....
