A Journey to Temerloh: Where My Roots Live

Title: A Day of Emotions and Memories in Tanjung Malim, Malaysia

It was my second day in Malaysia, and I was in Kuala Lumpur, still adjusting to the beautiful and vibrant atmosphere of the city. The night before, we had already planned something special—something deeply personal. We decided to travel to Temerloh, a small town about three to four hours away from the capital, to meet my elder brother and visit the place where my grandfather, father, and uncle had spent most of their lives.

Early in the morning, we woke up full of excitement. It was me, my younger brother, and one of his close friends. After breakfast, we packed ourselves into a car and started our journey. Everything was so fresh and new to me. I couldn’t stop observing the sights, the people, the roads, and the feeling of being in a place that was foreign yet somehow familiar.

As we left the city behind, the highway opened up to one of the most beautiful scenes I’ve ever witnessed. The road was wide and smooth, surrounded by endless greenery on both sides. Small mountains stood proudly in the background, like silent guardians of the road. The landscape was lush and peaceful, and for a moment, I felt like I was driving through a painting. It was a scene I had never experienced in my life—one that made me silently thank God for this opportunity.

After a couple of hours on the road, we finally reached Temerloh. As we entered the town, my heart began to beat faster. I was excited, but also deeply emotional. This wasn’t just any place—this was the land of my roots. My grandfather had lived here for over 60 years. This was where my father, uncle, and many others from our family had worked, struggled, and made a life. We even had a family house here, and my stepmother was still living in it, along with my elder brother and his family.

As soon as I saw my elder brother, I felt a wave of happiness wash over me. We embraced, and then he took us to our family house—the one where my father used to stay, where my uncle had lived, and where so many of our family memories were born. When I entered the house, I sat quietly and began to look around. Each corner of the house told a story. The walls, the floors, the familiar scent—it all reminded me of the sacrifices, the hard work, and the love that once filled this space.

Without even realizing, I found tears rolling down my cheeks. I couldn’t control the emotions. It was as if the walls were whispering to me, reminding me of my father’s voice, my uncle’s laughter, and the quiet prayers of my grandmother. I cried, not out of sadness, but from a deep, overwhelming sense of connection to my family’s past.

After spending some time there, we visited my elder brother’s son, who was studying in a nearby Islamic school. He looked so grown up, focused, and disciplined. I felt proud to see how our next generation was moving forward with strong values.

Later in the day, we went to a nearby swimming area. It was a beautiful spot surrounded by nature, and the water was so refreshing. We laughed, took dozens of pictures, and enjoyed every moment. It felt like a perfect reward after such an emotional journey.

As we were about to return, something unexpected happened. My younger brother suddenly decided to buy a sheep for dinner. I told him it might get too late, but he was insistent. So we stopped at a nearby place, and after some quick bargaining, we bought the sheep. The dinner that night was absolutely delicious—cooked fresh and shared among family and friends under the open sky.

After a warm cup of tea and heartfelt conversations, we finally started our journey back to Kuala Lumpur. It was already past midnight, and we reached home safely around 1 AM. But even though I was physically tired, my heart was full. That day, I didn’t just travel through roads—I traveled through time, emotions, and deep family history.

It was one of those rare days in life that you never forget. A day that stays with you forever.