There is always something nostalgic about heading back to places that you have been before when you were growing up. It shows up the timeline of one's history over the years and how these places have, in one way or another, shape one's life to who one is today
That is the general feeling I usually get when I get back to Malaysia during my leave to be with my kin and family. Such visits isn't always full of excitement and rah-rah fun all the time, as it can be interspersed with some amount of quiet and slow moments, even boredom too. Nonetheless, it is the very act of getting connected with my roots and the echoes of the past that always impressed upon me that I had came from somewhere and now with what I had undergone and experienced, to move towards a future to bring about something worthwhile and good to the world, whatever that may be
There is, however, a little side-effect from it all. It is the realisation that I don't really belong fully to this place anymore and will once again get disconnected whenever I get back to Singapore. That means letting go, of sorts, family and friends who are still around to carry on with their lives as I deal with what is in store for me in my life in the island state.
It's this strange feeling of carrying two different and unique countries in me...