Farah Bin Ahmad

Every morning for many decades, I would wake up early and prepare Laksa soup to sell at the market in Kuantan, Malaysia. Over the years, I perfected the national dish and had many satisfied customers. One of them was a handsome, charming man of the Christian faith whom I first met 50 years ago. At the time, I was already married, but we shared a connection that transcended the usual boundaries of our society.

Even though Malaysia prides itself on religious freedom, it wasn’t always easy for people of different faiths to be seen together, especially a man and a woman. People talked badly about us, spreading rumors and casting disapproving glances. Eventually, the man stopped coming to visit me, and it left a sadness in my heart. It made me think deeply about our society and how, despite our supposed progress, we still struggled with acceptance and understanding.

Now, at 78 years old, I'm no longer as strong as I used to be. I rarely sell my Laksa soup anymore, but recently, I decided to return to the market for old times' sake. To my astonishment, I saw him again after all these years. Time had marked us both with lines and gray hairs, but as we talked, it was as if nothing had changed. Our conversations flowed effortlessly, just like they did half a century ago.

Seeing him again after all these years was incredible. We were amazed at our old appearances, chuckling at how much we had changed on the outside, yet remained the same on the inside. Perhaps now, with the years and wisdom behind us, there is a new chance for our friendship, one unburdened by the judgments of others.