Home

Recently, I made a nostalgic trip back to a place that haunted my dreams for the last 10 years – Belfast, Northern Ireland. I had spent 4 years studying and working there, and the place holds many fond memories. As the years passed, my memories of the place faded and had become romanticized.

I spent two days exploring all the old haunts – the Indian takeaway that I used to frequent, the café where I usually had my breakfast, the local newsagent that I used to visit to check whether the latest issue of Empire had arrived. Everything seemed so familiar and yet so remote.

I found out to my horror that they were tearing down the student hall that I stayed in for two years.

And the newsagent was taken over by the bookstore chain Easons. The Indian takeaway, however, had survived the times, as did the video rental shop next to it.

I also went around the university, which remained very much as it was before, except the computer lab was replaced with a five storey building.

As I checked places off my list, I was surprised at how despondent I felt. I then realized why – without the people whom I had spent the good times with, Belfast was just another familiar city. I had fond memories of the place because of the people I had spent time there with, not so much the place itself, although Northern Ireland is still as beautiful as ever (and the weather as dull as ever).

The visit brought some closure to me, helping to put an end to the longing I felt for the place since I got back to Malaysia. Over the years, I plotted ways to go back to UK and live there, but never took the courage to do so.

I realized that the things that I should cherish the most are not physical, but all the people whom I love and care about. As long as these people are near, that’s where I belong, and that’s where I call home.