Flying Away

Popped into Hamzah and Sharifah's house at Shah Alam on the way back to Melaka this evening both to see them and to bid the fondest of farewells to niece Aziqah who sets off for Tasmania tomorrow for a course in architecture. Unbeknowst to Aziqah her doting father murmured mournfully to me about just how much he was going to miss her at least three times in the short space of our visit. I don't think you ever quite realise when you're young just what a wrench it is for your elders when you're ready to fly the nest. I'm pretty sure Hamzah rightly has protected his daughter from this dispiriting information and the attendant melancholy.

I'm reminded, as I often am these days for some reason, of that line from Linda Loman in the greatest and most real and relevant of all American tragedies (and I hope I'm quoting it correctly as this is purely from (a bad) memory): Life is a taking leave. Yes, it is, isn't it?