As Malaysia encountered the most devastating flood, particularly in East Coast, Penang (my hometown) was fortunately pronounced impunity from the Mother Nature. However, starting from the mid of December, it pelted almost non-stop for about two weeks, which caused some household inconvenience (although far from what the flood victims bear).
At a fortunate end of the country, we are freed from the specter of losing houses and properties (in contrast with the flood victims), but we had a common hope: may the rain abate and the sun shine for the next few days. Shackles in performing outdoor activities were inflicted in a different manner for various stratum of people in the society, even for those in flood-free areas. For housewives, this means impossibility in washing drains, or taking care of garden (though their jobs are lightened as there’s no need to water shrubs and flowers); for children, this means no football playing in school, and stricture for outings.
This reminded me of the weather in February to March, which was on the other end of extremity: quasi-drought.
Having no classes to attend after SPM, I followed my parents to garden for morning exercise just after sending my sister to school. The only exception was, when it rained. This happened just before Chinese New Year, and that’s all in the following two months.
As time went on, Malaysia experienced a stark devoid of rainfall for the following two months. Consequently, dam level for several states plunged to detrimental level (with lowest one at 38%), calling forth water rationing. I remembered how egregious the problem was, that during the third IMO camp held in Permata Pintar we had to fill our buckets with water from the water tank outside the hostel. This was exacerbated for those having stomach-ache.
At micro level, the grass at the garden (where we jog at) was emaciated gradually, turning from lush green to sallow livid yellow, appearing exactly like fodder. Looking at that, I contemplated on its survival: if that condition protracted, could the grass survive?
It came, in the timely April. When I was on my journey home after fetching my sister from tuition class, it rained lightly. “Switch on the wiper”, my father, sitting beside me, reminded. I followed it phlegmatically, unaware of that being what we had been waiting for (or rather, focusing on road rather than on rain). As we reached home, “It rained!” said my mum exultantly. Only then I realised that the rain had come after its absence for two months. I chuckled non-stop in my room, failing to conceal my joy. It rains! A good start on making our hope come true.
As the rain persisted, the grass in the garden seemed to undergo makeover from the mutilation previously–the lush green of it reformed! This proved me wrong in the beginning, showing how strong the grass was. Especially pleasant was the luminescent dew appearing on grass and leaves in that area, resembling forebodes of boon in the offing!
Nevertheless, the rain didn’t significantly improve our dam level (at least not to the safe border of 55%). Likewise, the sunny days just before the new year didn’t substantially water down the flood throughout the affected areas. It took months in the former, and days in the latter, for Malaysia to restore to its original pristine condition. Moral of the story? No one could elope from the punishment from mother nature for being derelict of preserving the environment.
Let’s wish the flood victims good luck in braving the tough life after this horrendous flood.
anzoteh96 