Recap

1218 days ago - I waited nervously in the departure lounge. 35 minutes to go. 35 minutes before I embark on a journey I knew I would never forget. 35 minutes to get my head straight and accept that it is finally happening. "Holy crap. This is real. I am not dreaming," I reassured myself. 

I sat on a purple cushioned bench and inhale the cold lounge air. My mind went through a massive recollection of memories.  I revisited the day I learnt to write my own name using a blunt red, non-toxic crayon suitable for a 4-year old. I admit, I got it wrong the first time (Wan Ahmat Zahidi? How awful. But always better than Izham Ismail). 

Amid the roaring laughter from fellow friends around me, I was locked in solitary silence. I forced my mind to browse frantically for more fond memories. I needed them to keep myself at ease. I was in the overlapping region of joy, nervousness, anxiety, and even fear. 

I managed to hold on to one. I remembered my primary school days. Being in an all boys primary school does not make a person gay. I remembered the elite class I was in. The same class I was in for 6 years. I arched the corner of my lips, smiling at some of the bizarre and memorable things that had happened. Of how Cikgu Ghani (our KH teacher) went berserk one afternoon because the workshop was too hot. Of how Shafa, a boy from 4D got his penis stuck to his zipper and cried like hell. I thought of all the shirtless moments that me and my classmates had as the punishment for playing football during recess. How I lost my librarian post as I decided to join in the fun at the school field instead of recording the flow of book in and out of the library. "Good shit," I said to myself.

I decided my reminiscing time is over and it is time to face reality. I gazed at the paper ticket on my lap. "KLIA - London Heathrow EDT 1015 16 September 2008". I folded it and safely tuck it in between the pages of my passport. I looked at the people around me. Faiq, Ikhwan and Pris were chatting to each other; probably imagining how their campus would be like. Little did they know they will spend the rest of their next 5 years in 'Bangladesh' (read: Whitechapel). 

I took out my handphone and dialed Mama's number. I started to miss her already. I felt my hug and kisses for her  an hour ago was not enough. 

"Mama, dah nak boarding dah ni." I said softly. It took me all my strength to hold myself from breaking down in front of everybody. 

"Ok! Safe journey! Mama tengah makan roti canai ni. Nanti message naa. Bye!"

Duh.

Soon, there was a subtle lady voice on the PA system requesting all MH004 flight passengers to board the aeroplane. I almost did not want to go. But then again, there was no turning back anymore. 

Passport, checked. Boarding pass, checked. Money, checked. 

And the fucking toothbrush too, checked.

Here we go.