It was a humid afternoon, sometime in 1983.
I was playing on the drive way, wearing nothing but a singlet
and underwear. I forgot the game but a hola hoop was hanging behind my neck and
colourful bands wrapped my wrists.
Our drive way doubled as garage for our family tortoise Galant. My
brother and I played on the narrow space next to the car when I saw the head of
one of my favourite persons bobbed from the front of the tall bamboo gate surrounding
the house – Mbah Putri! Her wavy bob hair and kind face smiled at us.
“Mbah Putri is here” I shouted in the direction of the house
which means one of the helpers has to open the gate for her. The helper rushed out
to open the gate and greeted my grandma “Eehh Ibu”.
I was jumping up and down chanting “Mbah Putri, Mbah Putri”
still with the hoola hoop around my neck - impatiently waiting for the gate to
be opened.
As soon as my grandma
walked in, I rushed into her wrapping my chubby arms around her legs, burying my
face on her pink polyester dress skirt. I closed my eyes and breathe in grandma
scent.
I felt her hands caressing my hair and stroking my back. For
5 seconds I felt a rush of love towards the person whose legs I hugged and I
felt her love for me.
#pinkskirt #memory
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