I was at my Aunt’s house. We were chatting about what this life has done to us.
She suddenly asks, “Do you still remember?”
“Remember what?” I Puzzled.
“The days when you were young, those hard old days?” she continued with unfocused eyes as if glimpsing back to the past.
“Mmmm aaa erm” I mumbled
Slowly she said, “You know? When you were crying because you were hungry…, your parents were working so hard to put the food on the table”
“Aaa” I nodded with unsurprising look.
“Do you still remember?” She started again.
I sat in silence.
“You know? Those days when your family needed the help most no one come at hand.” She stopped awhile. “Those time you and your sister needed most for care, your mother needed help from her siblings. Money was scarce those days. No one was willing to borrow some of theirs. As if they rather let your mum die then helping her” she swallowed deeply.
I am practically speechless because I am too small to remember all those things even though I still can feel the feeling she was talking about. Honestly I have forgotten.
“Then what happen?” said I, tried to be part of the conversation.
“Nowadays things have changed… life has gone better especially after you moved here in Miri. Your mum said she was able to breath freely again,” a gentle smile on her face.
“But those who earlier can hardly grant a glance, now all near again. You know…now your parents live a stable life plus your brother now who earns quite something.”
And the conversation went on and on…
To think of it, we are in the social mobility. The thing is that I already forget where I came from. I never was born in a bourgeois family. I was from the lower class of society. How I become proud of what I have now. Sometimes never thankful of what I have because I’ve forgot what it feels to be poor.
My Mum always remind me to study hard because she said during her days she never given a chance to continue her education because of the outdated thinking of girl should stay home, and of course because they couldn’t afford it.