Currently Playing: The 88 - Coming Home.
I had a bit of an adventure today.
I was on my way back home from KLIA this morning after
sending my folks off. It was early, around 7.15am and the highway was clear.
After an entire week of facing mad rush hours to and from work, the car-free
lanes were a welcome sight. I may have gone a little overboard in speed, but
it’s perfectly justifiable. Think of it as a way of exacting revenge on
enduring unrelenting congestion on a continuous basis.
My siblings were asleep, and I was trying to decide where to
have our breakfast. I had to consider the fact that all of us were clad in less-than-appropriate attire, one level better than night jammies. That’s what happens when you’re bundled into the car at 5something in the morning. So the place had to be somewhere not so open and public, but served a good hot Malaysian meal, so that would add up to a semi-obscure mamak stall.
I passed a number of signboards as I drove, when it suddenly hit me.
Ipoh. 252km.
I wanted to drive to Ipoh for breakfast. I wanted roti bakar from Ipoh, and its famous white coffee. No, I didn’t want to go to Old Town Kopitiam where you can get
it for a much shorter drive, I wanted to drive all the way up north. I wanted it, and on impulse, a split-decision was made. I was going to do it.
And about 2 hours later, we were in Ipoh.
My siblings woke up and stared in horror at the car’s mad driver. I wandered about aimlessly for a while before spotting a cosy old coffee shop, parked and proceeded to drag my siblings into said coffee shop. As you may well remember, we were not dressed properly for public view. That would explain my siblings’ fierce resistance, but they were eventually overcome by hunger and conceded defeat.
During breakfast, people all around us glanced curiously our way, most probably trying to comprehend why on Earth were there 3 people looking like they’ve just rolled out of bed, with 2/3 of them looking dazed and slightly panicked, and the eldest being completely indifferent and oblivious to her surroundings.
After breakfast, we headed out and I drove past the limestone hills, right back to KL and home. My siblings have sworn never to ride a car where I’m the driver ever again…which is funny, since I’m the one sending them to their schools. I know this whole story sounds crazy, and I wouldn’t blame you if you don’t believe me.
That’s because it isn’t true.
I didn’t write this as a joke, or with any intention of deceit. I wrote this to remind myself what could have been had I decided to turn my what-if around and answer it for myself. I wrote this to remember how I had two roads before me, one safer, the other unknown, and how I always go for safe without fail.
I own up - the false part of the story is where I make a split-decision on impulse. Everything before that part though is absolutely real; I was indeed driving back from KLIA, and I was indeed contemplating driving up north for the fun of it. I could have, but I didn’t. I drove straight home. Driving some 200km for breakfast would have been impulsive, irrational, foolish even.
But it would also have been something different, something else, right off the charts. It would have been one of those stories I would love to tell my grandchildren, to look back on and think ‘hey, I once acted out of spontaneity, and it was great.’It would have been exciting, bold, daring.
I am waiting for the day when my mind, my thinking, my weighing the situation, my giving proper regard to the consequences and coming to a sensible conclusion will unshackle me. Just for one day, and just enough to make a memory that’d last a lifetime.
Wouldn’t you?
Enough said here.
