Tuesday, 31 January 2017

Home Thoughts from a Broad ......

.... just a little play of words on Robert Browning's poem "Home Thoughts from Abroad".

Been back for nearly 2 weeks :  the moggies were happy to see us.

But the spouse was already showing signs of exhaustion.  He succumbed to the infections we picked up on the plane and it ended in this for both of us.

Through the haze of sniffles, sore throats, hacking coughs, fever and headache one's thoughts wander to Victoria Park where the spouse would wander almost every day to feed the gulls.

Walking back home from the Park we also noticed these 'leftovers' on the pavements.
Used capsules of nitrous oxide (laughing gas) - another form of recreational drug for 21st century young denizens.


The 'creativity' of the young in filling up their their hedonistic and high-tech lives are quite amazing -  makes my generation with their ciggies and rock 'n' roll very tame indeed.

But some things remain unchanged.
Hope springs eternal even in Leicester.  We get this through our letterbox very frequently.

This image below - up to 10-15 years ago - is not a typical scene, in where we live in this part of Leicester.
A car from Eastern Europe, all 4 tyres flattened and abandoned.  As it has an East European number plate, the owner /culprit would be very difficult to trace.  When and if it is finally towed away, the Council will have to pay for it.   As it is, this year our Council Tax will be upped by 10%.

Fly tipping, of broken bits of furniture, mattresses, children's bicycles, broken plastic roofing, planks and all sorts of odds and ends have also blighted this residential area - again a recent introduction by our EU brethren.

Still, one has to ....

But bananas in Leicester are tasteless.

Back in Setiawangsa, we discovered a little stall that has a regular supply of my favourite pisang emas.

On the second day of Chinese New Year we decided to get our usual supply of bananas and papayas. But the shop was shut.  As I walked towards the stall selling my favourite pisang goring, I became aware of the openness of the little street and the peaceful, quiet surroundings because there were hardly any cars or motor-bikes.

It was just like walking along the lanes in Kampung Abu Kassim, Pasir Panjang, Singapore 60 years ago.  I felt a bit tearful but I can't blame it entirely on the impending cold. Time and tide can break many a heart!

I went back the next day to snap some pictures, hoping to recapture in Kramat, that bit of my past.

But it was just a wild fancy. This was all I could get. No more rose-coloured spectacles!
Jalan AU 3/12 at 0730.

Remembering a kampung wayside - minus the car and the atap genting.

The moral of my posting : for all those aged from 13 or thereabouts to 40, 50, 60 ; record and remember the scenes that make up the tapestry of your being before it's too late.


Awang Goneng said...

Salaam Sis,

It's so sad that I missed you in KL, and your esteemed husband too. I was with Mat Som the man, out in search for lunch in the vicinity of your other home, when I mentioned your esteemed name. Oh, said the Som, she's probably home in Leicester. If you've just been back two weeks, then you must have been there still. Och aye. I was in those parts all of six weeks. Would have loved to meet you both, but alack and alas. Write me an email eh, will you?

Awang Goneng said...

So that's what it is (they are), the ha-ha gas. I see tons of these glassy ampoules on my way to Wing Yip, the Chinese superstore. Did search my mind a little as to what they art, but no, I got no answers. But when I looked around I saw very few young people falling about in laughter. Would they be laughing indoors? Are they all doing closet gaga? We used to spread our laughter in the streets in our day but now it has become private enterprise? Or do they do it only in the night? Wooh, mengilai waktu malam. Takutnya. But who can blame them eh, Sis? What with the state of the world now, what can one do but resort to enforced laughter from the bottle? And hey, that marabout man in your neighbourhood, is he really 150 years old? Give him a hand, will you, the next time he appears to slip a card in your letterbox?