Memories of Confusion

My Aunt sent me to the nearby farm yesterday, close to the house to fetch some utazi leaves for her palm oil sauce. Poor me!! I thought the leaves stood separately on theirs, like a lone star, gazing over the rest of the farm.

With nostalgia found in an old
student's walk to her former school, i walked briskly, full of strength, to the old farm.

Disappointment.

Every leaf in that farm resembled the utazi leaf. Okay! Maybe not all the leaves, but majority did.

Don't erroneously judge me as not
knowing how the leaf looks like. No! Since my early childhood was in my town and i do use the leaves to cook, i believe that i should still recognize it when i see it in the farm. But unfortunately other leaves swallowed its semblance. So they all looked the same.

How do you start unbacking the child of a nursing waist-broken mother from her back?

My dilemma:

Should i turn back and lie that the
desired leaves has finished overnight in the farm, or should i stay in the farm, continue staring at the leaves as they
dance to the tune of the breeze, then hopefully await a villager or a herbalist that will pass by so that i will ask for help.

I finally opted for the latter, because i knew my Aunt is a sensitive detective of lies. And it will be my personal shame if i should do that.

Unable to wait any longer, i decided that my sense of taste has slept for long and need to wake up. Since eyes failed, tongue must prevail.

Yes!! I became a taster of leaves. And omg!! I ate both the good and the bad, sense and senseless, wanted and unwanted.......... It was endless, but i trust my Abraham Lincoln spirit. I never gave up.

Finally!! Finally!! I found the leaf with its tiny, ropelike trunk entangled with another specie of leaves that had same semblance with it. Its bitter flavour in
my tongue stamped the recognition. It sat there in comfort of other leaves,
smiling and having a happy hour with others, at my expense of confusion.

Anyway, it finally found its way into our body tanks, ie stomachs.

End of d story. Goodday friends.

*smiling*.

One word for my story.