All these while, when I talk about my childhood, all I have are actually some vague and blurred images. I remember what my house looked like, what the neighbourhood looked like, the shop next to the road we past all the time, blah blah blah..or I think I remember. Today, as I retraced the route back to the house, I find all the images coming back clearer, newer and more real. At least now, I know that I did not imagine all that. Somehow, in my young mind, between the naps I take on the car, I do remember some things along the route.

I remember the place where we went once to look at some cars when my mom wanted to buy a car. The place where we would turn if we want to go to the M'sian library. The turn to take to go to the market. The primary school that was still under construction the time we moved away. The clinic that I used to go to. The playground that my mom never let us go play. The kindergarten I went to. The roadside stall where we used to go once in a while to have a delicious Sunday breakfast. All the places that I never thought I would remember, but somehow, I did.

The one place that I remembered very well was the hill just beside the road. That was the place we abandoned our dog. I used to have a long-haired dog that we called Kopi because of its colour. I really liked it very much. But, as it got older and probably because of the hair, it began to have very bad skin diseases. Eventually, my parents just decided that it was time to let it go. So, we drove to that hill and just left it there. I remember that I was in the car too. It was the most devastating day of my childhood. I was looking back through the rear window, slamming against the glass pane, crying very hard as I get further and further away from my dog. I knew that it was sick and would die eventually. What made me sad at that time was that I felt that it was going to die a lonely death, probably in the cold silent scary night. I just felt that it is such a horrible way to die.

After a pretty long way, ( I never remembered the way to be that long, maybe because I always sleep about 90% of the way ) we reached the house. And I didn't even know that we've reached the house. My mom just stopped and asked me, "Are we there already?" I was shocked. I mean, if I didn't remember the route wrongly, we should be somewhere near our house, but none of the houses I saw looked vaguely like the one I had in mind. I felt this sudden attack of sadness when I saw the door number. Indeed, it is our house, but looked nothing like my house. The house I have even dreamt about.

For one, it was much older and smaller than I had remembered. This, I can accept since for a small kid, everything looks big. But, what I couldn't accept was that the trees are gone. If you have read this entry, you would know that I have special feelings for the mango tree and the garden. But, they are gone. In replacement of the garden, the whole place was paved with some green cement. Hideous. I probably have not mentioned this before, but in front of the house, there also used to be this papaya tree that bore fruits that we never bothered to pick. There was also a cluster of sugar canes which probably helped me in training my growing teeth. They are gone too. All gone.

Is the normal way things have to go? As I grow older, the things that I grew up with disappears one by one. I witnessed the cutting of the tree, but I didn't imagine even the stump to be replaced by green cement.

Until the day I moved away, I still didn't get to play in the playground. Now, as I look at it, it is all run-down, rusty swings, crooked see-saw. I almost wanted to cry.

I realise that maybe the reason why my childhood felt so wonderful was because I did not have a chance to see everything change, grow older. Probably, being the idealistic me, my mind automatically paints a prettier picture of those years than they actually were. But, the reality check I experienced today put new images into my mind. Maybe it was wrong to return to that place. Now, I don't know if I can continue to hold such fond and "touched up" impressions of my childhood. I used to think that my neighbourhood was the most special neighbourhood in M'sia. Painfully, I had to realise that my neighbourhood was just like any other housing estates in M'sia. Nothing was special anymore.

I've decided. I just have to find a spot in my mind to lock up all the images I saw today. Condemned. It's my right to possess memories I like. They look so much better in my mind as vague blurred images and even if I know that they are not entirely real, they are still my only link to the beautiful childhood as I like it. These memories are all I have, damn it.