23 April 2020 / 11.45pm
Life has brought me more than I ever expected and it has made me who I am. I stared into the darkness which comes so deeply just before the dawn and wonder where will I go to find who I want to be…
I have a very fond memory with Mr Lim under the shady tree outside his house. Whenever I am not happy, I will cycle to his house, hoping to see him resting with his book under the tree. Most of the time he will read his book and his wife accompanied him. Whenever his wife see me, she will smile and make way for both of us to chat.
At the age of 13, I already have countless of questions about life. "Why all these happened to me… why it must be me and not other people… why? why? Who am I? What will I be when I grow up? If my life is not me, will I have the same emotion? How will it be to live a life without me?
He is my comfort to all my questions. He never stop to provide me understanding and knowledge that built me up. Without him, my life is like a compass without a bearing. I always wish I can spend countless of hours under this shady tree to listen to his story.
When he was young, he worked in flour factory to support his study. At night, he studied under a dim light at the same table that he worked during the day and slept on the same table every night. He struggled a lot before he became a teacher and later the assistant of headmaster. His story is what I needed to listen because each time I feel so connected to his story.
He shared with me a lot about conscious mind, subconscious mind, and philosophy. When I was in Form 3, my interest in these subjects grew curiously. Until today, I continue to share his knowledge to my students. Because the same knowledge that I received has built me up to be who I am today - "A Man with A Story"
22 years ago, I was 23 years old. That fateful day will never erase away from my mind. I received a call from my family that Mr Lim has pass away. I cried badly in the bus while on my way to college. I wanted to go back to see him immediately but I was having my final year. I cannot sleep. I cannot eat. I was completely shutdown. I cried every night.
I left my hometown in 1992 after completed my Form Six. Since then, I didn't see him until the day he pass away. During my college life, I continue to write letter to him for advice. Whenever I am depressed, I will call him. But I didn't know he was sick. I live my life with guilt.
I told myself, I will honour him with his story as long as I live. After I graduated, I made a plan to honour him in my interview by taking up 3 minutes to tell his story to the interviewers. I did. But I am still living with guilt. I do not have the courage to visit his family.
Early this year, 7 January 2020, I drove back to Sitiawan, my hometown. I stop at that shady tree. I looked around. The spot that we used to sit and chat already filled up with long grass. I closed my eyes with tears flowing down my cheek. I no longer hearing his voice anymore…no longer I can learn from him…
Sir, I have grown up. I am passing your knowledge to my students now. If you are here, I am sure you will be very proud of me, am I right?
Then I saw his wife, came out to water the flower. She is in her 80s. I hurried to greet her. She still remember me. We chatted for about 30 minutes. My heart filled with tears. I wanted to say sorry to her because I didn't know my teacher was sick and I didn't pay him a visit. But she looked happy while chatting with me. So, I hold back my tear…
Before I left, I asked for my teacher's photo. She gave me a photo of someone who is so dear to me.
That day, I left Sitiawan with my last chapter.
Sir, It still isn't goodbye. It's just so-long! Till then, we meet again. Sitiawan will always be my fondest memory.
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