I MUST have known it. I mean, when I made that impulsive purchase of a box of 1,000-piece jigsaw puzzle depicting a glorious picture of Lake Como, Italy just a mere week or so ago. I hadn't pieced together a jigsaw since… gosh, when I was back in high school.
The fact that I was circling around the long table in the concourse of a local mall, getting excited over a display of boxes of jigsaw puzzles stacked on top of each other like Jenga blocks was confusing to
say the least.
I must have circumnavigated the same space more than five times, much to the suspicion of the two whispering sales girls by the payment counter.
At one point, I'd even made a video call to my best friend to share with her my plans to purchase the jigsaws, furtively panning the camera's phone towards the selection so she too can share in my excitement.
"'Ello! When are you ever going to have time to go play with jigsaws? You don't even have time to breathe with all the work you need to do," came her incredulous retort, the text jumping on my phone screen, crisp and swift, thus sounding a death knell on my plans before I could even tell her that the box had a picture of Lake Como, one of my favourite places in the universe!
Undeterred by the lack of "support", I'd shoved the phone into my pocket and made the decision to go ahead and buy it anyway. After all, as I silently reasoned to myself, it was on sale. "Wait la, when the Movement Control Order (MCO) comes around again, at least I'll have my jigsaws to while the time away with," I recall confidently thinking, happily walking away with my prized purchase — like the cat that got the cream.
AND THEN IT CAME
"Our healthcare system is at a breaking point," declared a solemn-looking Tan Sri Muhyiddin Yassin, Malaysia's prime minister on January 11, during his much anticipated live televised perutusan (PM's televised address).
The word was already out that daily cases could grow to as high as 8,000 in a few months if stricter curbs were not imposed. Grappling with a surge in coronavirus cases, the country's healthcare system was under serious threat of overload.
When the PM announced a nationwide travel ban and a two-week lockdown in the capital as well as five states, it didn't come as a surprise.
Somewhere at the back of my mind, I had already been preparing for this eventuality. Why else had I bought that 1,000-piece jigsaw puzzle!
Joking aside, we've already had a trial run with the first MCO. Now, we're called upon once again to summon our resilience and patience and everything in between as we face MCO 2.0 head on. It's also a time to search again for the silver linings. Just like what many of us have been doing ever since the pandemic started.
It won't be easy. But as many have proven, it's possible.
OF DREAMS AND REALITY
I recall when Uniqlo's first roadside "megastore" opened with much fanfare in my neighbourhood of Bandar Sri Damansara under a month ago, with queues snaking out from its belly to the tail. And it was pretty much a similar scene for days after. Today, all the "rah rah" has come to a whimper with MCO in place.
I also remember visiting a cafe a month ago, run by two siblings, which had just started to see its business pick up after months of "quiet".
One of the enterprising young owners had excitedly confided that they were finally seeing results to their dream, despite the constraints of the Conditional Movement Control Order. Today, they've had to return to their original modus operandi of when they first started on their F&B journey — doing deliveries.
One of Malaysia's exciting young Mixed Martial Arts (MMA) athletes had finally realised his dream of opening his own fight gym just weeks ago when he co-founded his MMA gym in an upmarket locale in Kuala Lumpur.
The buzz was out and the athlete couldn't have been more pumped. But that was before he was floored by the unseen enemy. With the MCO in place, this veteran of the Asian MMA scene will need to summon his fighting spirit to ride through the storm.
Meanwhile, somewhere in Bangi, a halal Chinese street food restaurant run by an illustrious local chef had its launch on the very same day that PM Muhyiddin made his MCO address.
Hours before, this new restaurant had been doing roaring business, with queues of customers seen outside its door from the moment it opened.
And then the announcement came. The bunting at the front declaring its opening launch hadn't even stood on the pavement for more than 24 hours. Suffice it to say, the chef will need to cook up a new plan.
A young mother had shared with me her excitement, having just purchased her daughter's school uniform and all the other bits and bobs needed for a school year. The girl was due to enter Standard One, and just like her mother, was looking forward to wearing her new baju and making new friends.
"But now, I don't even know whether school will be open," she said, tone defeated. A pause ensued before I noted a new light in her eyes as she added, more spiritedly: "Well, I guess there's nothing wrong with allowing my girl to have a feel of what it's like to wear the uniform. And it's nice that she's looking forward to going to school!"
There are so many stories to tell when it comes to just what this MCO will mean to a lot of people. There'll be those whose tales are simply heartbreaking; and others, with a glimmer of sunshine peeking behind the clouds.
Whatever the story, Malaysians are a resilient lot. And as many have shown, are also incredibly caring. Perhaps MCO 2.0 will bring forth the better side of our human spirit. A spirit that unites — when it matters most.
Me? I'll miss my regular treks into nature AND my coffee and cake sessions with dear friends. But my struggle is small. The biggest one will probably come when I attempt to piece the pieces of my jigsaw puzzle this weekend. Lake Como beckons!