Looking Back

Looking Back

Childhood memories are like old photographs resting quietly in between the yellowed pages of a photo album; stashed away somewhere in the deep corners of forgetfulness and hidden from sight by our blind yearning for newer and happier memories. And then suddenly, they are awaken from their sleep; projecting themselves onto the canvas of our conscious minds like a repeated screening of an old movie.

Such memories can tease the tears out of our eyes - sometimes tears of joy and at other times, tears of sorrow. And as the memoriam of our childhood play on in our minds, we are cradled in warm embrace and nostalgic ambience.

As I sit under the gazebo, looking at the cluster of giant palms on the slopes of Penang Botanic Gardens, I remember the old family photographs which were taken in front of these majestic trees. It was a family outing with my parents and siblings, and we were all dressed up for the occasion. At that time, colour photography was just beginning to become a rage.

The photographs are still around, though the colours have faded slightly. But the palm trees remain alive, strong and healthy, just like the memories of that day which stay fresh in my mind.

Gone

Gone

Back in the times when the Penang Youth Park was synonymous with roller skating, my parents used to take me and my best friend BC there during the school holidays. Those were carefree days when gliding precariously round a concrete track, wearing metal skates weighing as heavy as our school bags; was one of the most exciting events we look forward to throughout the school year.

But this picture is not about Youth Park, and the story is not about roller skates.

This picture was taken at the Botanic Gardens recently, and the story is about what happened here after one of our holiday skating sessions during that time, long ago.

On that day, my parents gave BC and I a special treat, by taking us to the nearby Botanic Gardens after skating. Both my father and mother sat under the luscious shade of this old tree, watching over us as we walked down the slopes towards the river. Suddenly a group of monkeys appeared and started to chase us. We ran as fast as we could, back up to the tree, and my father had to drive away the attacking monkeys.

It was a memorable event - both scary and exciting at the same time.

But alas, both my parents are long gone now. What remains are the beautiful memories under the comforting shade of this old, and still surviving tree at the top of the slope.