there's just something about old things that catches my eye and i don't know why
everything that remains after a long period of time tell stories about what happened then
what happened that no one can possibly relive unless through these things
it can be from an old building, miniscule pieces of shattered china, black and white photographs, coffee-stained letters or telegrams
each and every thing brought back a story of its own with it; a memory
a memory that is possible to be long forgotten, but shapes us to be who we are now
this trip, surprisingly, most of the cousins wanted to tag along,
perhaps, we all felt like we were somewhat responsible to continue the tradition of coming to Seremban and visit all our relatives in the future.
or maybe it's just me. ha ha
we drove around town and mum took us on a convoy to the places where her childhood was spent
one of my mum's older cousins (i think) used to own this sundry shop in seremban town
we used to go there every chinese new year since i could remember when
the infrastructure of this sixties' shoplot is of brilliance and functionality
the front of the shoplot is, of course, the sundry shop itself, selling all sorts of stuff
all in plastic/tin containers and sacks where only the owner of the shop knows what is located where in which area of the shop
the back of the shoplot was the residence of family; home
it was this general living space-cum-kitchen-cum-dining-area; the liveliness of the house
and where we got our angpow. haha
and the second floor consisted of different rooms like any other house would have
the one thing i remember the most of this shop, as a kid
was that everytime we visited, there was free candy
and the uncle would ask us to pick a number from a tin can
and he'd use those numbers to buy lottery tickets. ha ha
i never knew whether any of those numbers actually won him some money
but all in good fun, i guess
my grandma used to used to sell ice-cream on the lower floor of her old house (last picture on the left)
although I don't remember a whole lot about it 'cause according to my mum, I used to spend my most of my time there crying
such irony, crying in an ice cream shop.
but I do remember when I was 2 or 3, I used to play 'masak-masak' where my cousin sister, Jess and I would pretend as if we were cooking up a meal with plastic utensils, in our pajamas.
and ended up fighting over a table.
on the way to my grandaunt's house in Seremban town, we passed by this KFC (last picture on the right)
where my grandma would bring Jess and I to, being a doting granny and all :)
rest of the seremban pictures // flickr
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