Hello?

“Hello.. uh, what’s your name again?”

About a month ago, he got lost while finding his way home from the nearby market because he forgot the route. A couple of weeks back, he claimed he had gone to the surau (prayer room) to perform his afternoon prayer when he had actually done it by his bedside. Then, my grandfather had to ask me for my name the other day. Everything has a way of coming back in a full circle, but I guess I wasn’t ready for this one. The man who gifted me my name the moment he embraced me when I was born, a soft smile playing on his lips as he stared fondly at my chubby features while imagining the woman I could be has begun to forget it.

Did I do well, yaii? (Javanese for grandfather)

Did I live up to my name?

This is just one of the many truths I’ve been trying to cope with in the recent months. Even when I’m not moving boulders, I’ve been sifting through the dirt & gravel. Life’s tendency of building me up by breaking me in shouldn’t be a surprise to me but I falter still, at times. Disoriented, still. Heartbroken, still.

Within the privacy of my own mind, I complained of my sadness, concerns & weariness to Him during one of the bus rides home till I ran out of words. So I sat completely still, wondering why my throat feels sore when I’ve not spoken a single word, only to realise that I was holding back my tears. (& another realisation struck me — I need to stop crying on public transport. @ future self, please take note, thanks.) That’s when my phone started ringing, distracting me from the despair I was about to succumb to.

“Hello, Ikhmah? I was just thinking of you!”

The phone call was from my friend of 11 years. She called because the thought of me crossed her mind & a text wouldn’t do — she needed to hear my voice to ascertain that I was doing fine even though we weren’t as close as we used to be. Alighting one stop earlier, I decided to take a detour instead of going straight home because I thought a walk in my quiet neighbourhood while talking on the phone & some fresh air would do me good. At the end of it, surprisingly, I regained my composure. An equilibrium has been established once again & I was at ease.

It was just a simple catching up through a phone call but it meant so much to me. Probably because it felt comforting to be able to lean on someone’s shoulder while trying to pull through a rough patch. Especially when that person reaches out to you first. Or perhaps it’s the overarching concept of human touch, which I’ve been a little deprived of these days. Or maybe because it’s a gentle reminder that the words in my head, both spoken & unspoken, would never go unheard.