From Sarawak to Kuala Lumpur: A Journey Into Memories and Dreams

A Journey into Memories and Dreams

On the third day of my journey, I boarded a flight from Sarawak to Kuala Lumpur. I was filled with excitement—not just because I was about to see Malaysia’s capital, but because of the deep emotional connection my family has with this country. For many Pakistanis, especially those from Buner, Malaysia is considered a second home. It holds a special place in our hearts, not just as a travel destination, but as a land of opportunity, sacrifice, and countless memories.

My grandfather had started his business in Malaysia more than sixty years ago. He laid the foundation for a legacy that still continues today. My father followed in his footsteps, along with my uncle and three of my brothers. Two of my brothers are still living and working there. In fact, from our village, it is hard to find a family that hasn’t had at least one or two members working, studying, or running a business in Malaysia. The connection is not only historical—it's deeply personal.

As a child growing up in Buner, I heard endless stories about Malaysia. These stories shaped my imagination. I learned about their culture, the spicy and colorful food, the humid yet beautiful weather, and above all, about our own people—how they lived, worked, and earned money, often under challenging conditions. I was especially curious about Kuala Lumpur, the city where most of our relatives and villagers lived. Listening to tales of towering skyscrapers, multicultural neighborhoods, and mosques nestled between modern buildings, I dreamed of experiencing all of it myself one day. That dream was finally becoming real.

During the flight, I was reading The Forty Rules of Love by Elif Shafak—a book that always brings deep emotions and spiritual reflection. As I turned the pages, I noticed a boy sitting next to me. He wore black glasses, which seemed unusual for a night flight. After a few minutes, I realized he was quietly crying. I felt a strong urge to ask what was wrong, but hesitated. Maybe he was leaving his family behind for a job, or maybe he missed his hometown. I didn’t want to intrude.

But then, he noticed the book in my hand and started a conversation. That opened a door. We talked about the story, about love, grief, and healing. I finally asked him what had made him so emotional. His answer touched my heart—he had recently lost a close friend, someone like a brother to him. It was his first journey alone since the funeral, and the weight of that loss had hit him mid-air. We talked for a long time, and by the time the flight ended, we had exchanged Instagram handles. We still stay in touch to this day. It’s strange how a chance meeting in the sky can connect two strangers forever.

As the plane landed, my heart raced. My brother and his friend were waiting for me at the domestic terminal. Seeing them after a long time was comforting. We hugged, exchanged smiles, and set off toward his house. The streets of Kuala Lumpur flew past us in the car, and I tried to soak in every detail. From the colorful lights to the fast-moving traffic, it was all just as I had imagined as a child—yet different in many ways.

At my brother’s home, I received a warm welcome. They had been waiting for me to arrive before serving dinner. We all sat down together, sharing food and laughter. As we ate, I kept thinking about how different everything felt—how the Malaysia of my childhood stories had come alive before my eyes, yet it now carried new colors, new emotions, and new faces.

After dinner, we sat for a few minutes, sipping tea and catching up. I was exhausted from the journey, and everyone insisted I get some rest. Tomorrow was going to be the day I had dreamed about for years—exploring Kuala Lumpur, the city that had been a legend in my home for decades.

That night, as I lay in bed, I felt grateful. Grateful not just for the chance to travel, but for the stories, the connections, and the dreams that brought me here. This journey wasn’t just about places—it was about rediscovering my roots, honoring my family’s past, and making new memories of my own.