by Nani-Syed Osman on Saturday, May 14, 2011 at 11:27am
Stomach protruding, legs swollen, I was as big as an elephant when I was 6 months pregnant with my 3rd born, Amir. We were renting this 1 bed-room flat in Kampong Baru, a block next to where Pak Habib's mom's resided. It was the durian season and I marveled over the idea of going on a durian binge before my EDD.
Life was simple back then We didn't own a car. He moved around on his motorbike. Whenever we wanted to go out on a family outing, we just hopped into a cab. Kampong Baru is just 10 minutes away to everywhere.
'Bah, nak makan durian', I said to my Pak Habib.
'Nanti I ajak Faizul g beli', Pak Habib answered.
His friend, Faizul owned a car and was still single. He would take us around anytime he's free. Upon Pak Habib's phone call, Faizul arrived and they immediately left for Chow Kit. An hour later, they arrived home, empty-handed.
'Ni, kami dah round 1 Chow Kit. Faizul kate sume buah tak cantek. Nanti dia balik kampong, dia belikan untuk you', informed Pak Habib.
I slumped onto the sofa when he related the news. I had imagined its succulent flesh and taste on my tongue. The creeping aroma which managed to release itself as soon as the skin was separated, engulfing and overpowering any other smells. Dominating.
'Bah, I dah turun tanda ni. Mana Faizul ngan durian kampong dia?', I inquired after a 3 months of silence. My durian had still not arrived and Faizul was nowhere to be seen these past 3 months. 'Nanti bila dalam pantang, I takleh makan durian dah. Kena tunggu 44 ari la pulak'.
He hopped onto his motorbike, his nephew, a pillion rider, and headed to Chow Kit. Half and hour later, he came back with what seemed to be a gunny filled with the fruit. I was too happy to say anything. Newspapers spread, parang readied, he took hold of a cloth and did his magic. Both Pak Habib and his nephew were too busy with their tasks at hand that they let me enjoyed the fruit all to myself.
'Boleh lagi?,' Pak Habib asked. I nodded. And he continued to the next one, and the next one and the next....Devouring the King of fruit, I had to pause, time to time, hands on my hips, every single time, to manage my quicken contraction...
'Jap. Jap. Jap....,' my facial expression reflected my pain and my attempt to suppressed the raising pain.
Their gaping mouth formed, almost on cue, at the sight. 'Shh....,' index finger on my lips, I shushed them while I went on indulging my cravings.
'Ende Nani ni biar betul? Boleh selang seli makan durian ngan contraction....,' his nephew said, shaking his head in amazement.
'Rizal, kamu bukak je buah durian yang ke 6 tu....Ende Nani boleh lagi nih....,' Pak Habib smiled as he instructed to his nephew to continue..
Amir, Abah and Zaid
Life was simple back then We didn't own a car. He moved around on his motorbike. Whenever we wanted to go out on a family outing, we just hopped into a cab. Kampong Baru is just 10 minutes away to everywhere.
'Bah, nak makan durian', I said to my Pak Habib.
'Nanti I ajak Faizul g beli', Pak Habib answered.
His friend, Faizul owned a car and was still single. He would take us around anytime he's free. Upon Pak Habib's phone call, Faizul arrived and they immediately left for Chow Kit. An hour later, they arrived home, empty-handed.
'Ni, kami dah round 1 Chow Kit. Faizul kate sume buah tak cantek. Nanti dia balik kampong, dia belikan untuk you', informed Pak Habib.
I slumped onto the sofa when he related the news. I had imagined its succulent flesh and taste on my tongue. The creeping aroma which managed to release itself as soon as the skin was separated, engulfing and overpowering any other smells. Dominating.
'Bah, I dah turun tanda ni. Mana Faizul ngan durian kampong dia?', I inquired after a 3 months of silence. My durian had still not arrived and Faizul was nowhere to be seen these past 3 months. 'Nanti bila dalam pantang, I takleh makan durian dah. Kena tunggu 44 ari la pulak'.
He hopped onto his motorbike, his nephew, a pillion rider, and headed to Chow Kit. Half and hour later, he came back with what seemed to be a gunny filled with the fruit. I was too happy to say anything. Newspapers spread, parang readied, he took hold of a cloth and did his magic. Both Pak Habib and his nephew were too busy with their tasks at hand that they let me enjoyed the fruit all to myself.
'Boleh lagi?,' Pak Habib asked. I nodded. And he continued to the next one, and the next one and the next....Devouring the King of fruit, I had to pause, time to time, hands on my hips, every single time, to manage my quicken contraction...
'Jap. Jap. Jap....,' my facial expression reflected my pain and my attempt to suppressed the raising pain.
Their gaping mouth formed, almost on cue, at the sight. 'Shh....,' index finger on my lips, I shushed them while I went on indulging my cravings.
'Ende Nani ni biar betul? Boleh selang seli makan durian ngan contraction....,' his nephew said, shaking his head in amazement.
'Rizal, kamu bukak je buah durian yang ke 6 tu....Ende Nani boleh lagi nih....,' Pak Habib smiled as he instructed to his nephew to continue..
Amir, Abah and Zaid
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