I am driving up north tonight. The sound of Sudirman’s “Balik Kampung” is blaring at the back of my head. I can't seem to shake it off.
I’m picking up my nephew at his college after Isya’ and then off we’ll go. Stopping by my sister’s house in Penang to drop off his prince, probably spend a night or two there before going home to mummy in Alor Setar. I can’t go home to her so soon because without my siblings or nieces or nephews there as buffers, she would be all over me. What I do, what I eat, what I say, what I don't do, what I don't eat, what I don't say, everything will be scrutinized .... I’ll die, I'll just die!!
Not buying any sparklers and fire-crackers for the kids this year. Have been doin’ that forever I think. This year, the kids would have to understand, it’s illegal, you can’t play with fireworks. End of story. (Read: I’m broke, I’m not burning my money away).
I’m off to Carrefour in a minute to buy snacks for the journey home. I may be unwilling, for a variety of reasons, to be the first one to arrive home, but I can’t deny that home is pulling me back.
Balik kampungggg…. oh…oh….oh… balik kampung……