If you ask me how I grew up among my Indian friends, then I would say that it was pretty much like having my own cousins around. This Deepavali, I would like to take you down the memory lane of how I learned about being 1Malaysia at a very tender age of 11.

It was end of the year of 1996 when our English teacher (Miss Santha) was picking students for the school annual Hari Penyampaian Hadiah performance. Like many children, I knew to perform or receive awards during such event is a BIG and glamorous thing and we all want to perform! At least for me, yes. So, while we were practicing one day, Miss Santha decided to exclude me, however, as she was stuck with her song lists, I managed to help her with her list of the nursery rhymes I know. And that, had saved me from being ousted.

The BIG day came. That particular year, my brother and I made our appearances for our own reasons. He was always at Hari Penyampaian Hadiah for the same annually reason – dapat nombor 1! I was far from that, even 10 was often impossible for me.

So, while waiting for the performance to start, we were all busy preparing ourselves in a classroom. Suddenly, as I was waiting for Shanti to get ready, a Chinese lady approached Shanti and told her some dos and donts. I was puzzled and scared at the same time, who could this lady be? Out of the blue, I began to scream, “Shanti! Who are you talking to?” I yelled and yelled my lungs out until my other friend, Karen stopped me, “it’s her mother lah!” I looked at her, you must be kidding me, I thought. Ever since that day, Shanti, Karen and I had become much closer as friends because we began to know each other parents’ and I was also on my constant mission after that in ensuring that the Chinese lady was really Shanti’s mother.

Months went by and it was time to go to secondary school. Since Shanti and I lived in the same neighbourhood, I begged her not to live for boarding schhol despite the flying colours result she had. It was a long process and finally, Shanti did not opt to go to the boarding school. Till this very day, I appreciate the sacrificed she made, sometimes I wonder, had I made my friend made a bad decision – I hope not.

We attended the same secondary school in our neighbourhood and were lucky enough to be again, in the same class. This time, our friendship expands. We had Vimal, Kirubagaran, Faisal, Sachdev, Shanti and I. Some other times, we even gather with Wai Mun, Shee Na Teo, and Faris. Faris was the boy behind Shanti’s house. He was the apple of the school’s eyes since he was so tall, fair and well-built. Many girls from other classes would asked for his name but for us, he was just another classmate. In the same school, I also made friends with Julia Ziegler’s family members of whom are family friends to my cousin, Che Pah (Sharifah Raphah), Airin Sabrina and Ezlin Deanna. By then, I already had sets of friends whom are interesting enough to stick to until this very day.

Now, back to Deepavali. I had been celebrating it since I was 12. That was my first time when Shanti had invited me for the celebration. Since eating out was not our family norm due to my dad’s selective taste, I was amazed to know that curry is a specialty of the Indians. Can you imagine that what would I be if I had not been a friend to Shanti? Will I grow up to know that curry is just my mom’s invention in the kitchen? I also began to learn to eat tosei as how it was introduced to me by Shanti. Then, I also learned that syrup is not the drink only for Malay’s kenduri kahwin and muruku, ladhu and all the rock-hard sweets with herb smells are Indian delicacies instead of what I used to think as house deco with fragrant.

My years of celebrating Deepavali did not end just at Shanti’s house. Once Kiru invited me to his house and I could not join the gang to go from Shanti’s house to Kiru’s as I did not get my parent’s permission (because then, they did not know Kiru’s parents),Kiru boycotted me for many years until, when we were in the university, he finally invited me again. Whether he had forgotten his own words or simply felt bad to miss me out, I did not know, but I still remember his mother’s flat in Taman Melati. As I climbed the staircase to his floor, I nearly cried because years back, I sincerely could not go because my dad was not at home hence there was no permission to go beyong Shanti’s house WITH other friends. That was how teenage life back then. Dad is always the house ruler.

So, when I had grown up to be a young adult, the experience also changed. This time it was not the food that surprised me but it was the concern the family had put into the choice of food touched my heart. I remember Kiru introduced me to vegetarian tofu as a replacement of protein and the tofu tasted like chicken according to him. That was when I knew that being in this world is all about tolerance and considering others for the benefits of everybody. It was also the time when I remember again that Kiru has his Malay Language fluency because he and his family speaks Malay at home. Speaking to his mother felt like speaking to my mom.

All of my Indian friends are now married and lead their own family. Today, as I almost drowned in my overdue paperwork, all I had managed is to give their family photos thumbs-up. Deep in the heart, I wonder a little, why haven’t I gone to repeat any of these experiences lately? To Kiru, Vimal and Shanti, thanks for the friendship we have till this very day. It is so good to see everyone so occupied with their children. May they grow up the way we did and enjoy every bit of good times the life has to offer. Happy Deepavali to all of you.