My mum has been chattier of late. Sharing stories with sister number 3 and me. Some people, some events I was already familiar with. Some not.

I knew my mum is the first born in the family of three girls. Her parents, my grandparents, were Tulasi and Sandrakasan. I also knew that my grandmother was married at 18. She was the third wife of my grandfather. Yes, why? A question with no answer.

Back to my grandparents. My grandfather and his first wife had six children. 4 boys and 2 girls. After she died, he remarried. With his second wife, he had a daughter. This was new to me. My half-aunty attended the same school as my mum. Both girls knew they shared the same father but were not friends nor foe. Hmm… The second wife left my grandfather. When and why? Questions with no answers again.

Anyways, my grandfather was a postmaster in the early 1900’s in Alor Setar. He was well-heeled, and earned what was considered good money back then. He must have done. He had two cooks/chefs in his household. Impressive. My mum does not remember much about him as he died when she was 5. What she remembered, and narrated to me a few weeks ago was about her half-brothers. Numbers 1 and 2, who kept in touch with her for a good many years. My mum’s memories are mainly snapshots of moments, things, and events.

Brother number 1 or ‘Perianna’ visited the family every month. Gave my grandmother, who had an inheritance from my grandfather, and funds from her own food business, a monthly allowance to sustain her and his half-sisters. My mum recalled being taken for haircuts. Short and page boyish in style that my grandmother did not favour. Maybe, there was some concern about gender identity because growing up my mum was fondly called ‘Tambi’ or younger brother by family and friends.

She also happily recalled going shopping for high heel shoes. 2 inches in height. How do I know? She demonstrated it with her little fingers. This was also new to me as I have only bought and seen my mum wear open-toed size 3 Scholl sandals. She wore the same type of footwear in hot Malaysia as she did in colder countries overseas. Like when she visited her daughters 1 to 4 in England and Australia. And while on holiday in Paris, Venice, Brussels, Tokyo and New Delhi. Occasionally, with socks but they were uncomfortable and unsafe. The other present was fabrics that my grandmother hand-stitched into dresses for my mum to wear to school. Yes, St. Theresa Convent in Butterworth. Back in the day when there were no standard school uniforms. 

‘Perianna’ also regularly brought canned fruit cocktail with ice-cubes for the family to have as a dessert. It might not sound like much but it was at a time when there was no fridge or canned goods. For that matter, there were no cakes, chocolates, and ice-creams. Unlike now, when we are spoilt for choice. Her fondness for this treat carried over to when she was in her 50s. I remember, when we lived in Taman Golf in Alor Setar, how much she enjoyed canned peaches with ice-cubes as well as ice-cold root beer at lunch. She used to heartily slurp these drinks. I appreciate the history/link now. My mum no longer drinks cold drinks or anything remotely chilled for fear of catching a cold or triggering her asthma.

During the Japanese occupation, it was ‘Perianna’ that my mum’s family turned to when there was a food shortage, especially rice. Tapioca was in abundance and it was a staple food. Oddly, my mum still likes eating steamed tapioca. ‘Perianna’ helped feed and house the family. Sadly, he disappeared soon after. My mum reckons he was ‘duped’ or betrayed by someone he knew. I have heard the story about ‘Perianna,’ who went missing in the 1940’s. What I didn’t know was the affectionate relationship my mum had with her half-brother. ‘Perianna’ was a kind and considerate soul, at least to my mum and her family.

Brother number 2 or ‘Sinnanna’ also visited regularly. When he did, he carried ‘Fu chok’ in his trouser pocket that my mum cooked for lunch. ‘Fu chok’ is dried bean curd in Cantonese. He also bought chocolates for my sisters, numbers 1 and 2, who were toddlers then. ‘Sinnanna’ took an interest in my mum’s life and general well-being. After he got married and had his own family, the relationship gradually became less close as it does, sometimes. I remember ‘Sinnanna or mama’ as a big and burly man. Not much else.

My mum’s stories helped me imagine/ visualise her much younger self – laughing and walking in her high heel shoes and sharing drinks and food – with her half-brothers. Nice.