As the days roll by, the house is beginning to look progressively bare. The household barang (goods) are being taken away load after load in a vehicle that seems astonishingly small to accommodate so much.

For once, advertisement had matched reality. Remember that ad where the presumptive owner pulls his vacuum cleaner forever into the vehicle until the plug is tugged loose, and the enraged man shouts: "Hey who pulled out the plug of my vacuum?" That's the one I'm talking about.

No matter what the situation or the surroundings; hovel or flat or dissatisfactory house, somehow or other, people learn to adjust when caught in the vicious trap of circumstances which provide little chance of breaking loose.

But our situation is different; we've to flee the scene as the house seems determined to evict us.

That's right. Put the blame on the mould that grows in patches at selected nooks and crannies in the building.

They are well cared for by the heavy rains we've been getting lately although the met department did say late last year the rains would stop in March. Hello weatherman, its April now.

I've had no quarrel with mould before but in this house, which I had previously reported as leaking, it's something fierce. My seven-year-old daughter was attacked first. Her constant coughing was so bad; she was forced to skip school several times a month. Visits to the GP were of no use.

Finally a specialist advised us that the poor girl's adenoids had to come out. After spending more than a pretty penny on her treatment, she still continues to suffer from sudden coughing fits. Another specialist was of the opinion that she was allergic to something or other but in our mind, the main suspect remained the mould's spores.

Human aberration

Then one by one every other member of the family fell to the unkind attention of some illness or other.

I had my turn a week or so ago when a sudden fit of lethargy stuck me, robbing me of my appetite and mildly spiking my temperature. One trip to the doctor put paid those complaints. Which spawns this thought. I seriously believe that humans are an aberration on the face of the earth.

Just think. A million-odd years on the planet and we've caused such devastation as never before. We are the only ones in the uncountable number of species that inhabit the world to indulge in gluttony. The others kill to satisfy hunger.

We also have a long history of committing mass murders in the form of wars. As humans destroy more and more of nature's bounties all sorts of diseases are being released to roam the world. And we, human beings, are fair game for them. Most probably the virus and bacteria will get us all if we don't bomb or shoot or poison ourselves into extinction first.

That off my chest, in all fairness there are plus points to the house that must be mentioned. For one it is strategically located, meaning a LRT station is a 10-minute or so walk away. And that practically provides the gateway to the whole country through road, rail or air.

But most of all, what really warmed my missus's heart was the number of restaurants offering a wide variety of cuisine. All within walking distance, too. The result was she spending considerable time worrying about her expanding waistline.

Nature's play

There are also homes boasting their own little jungles with a riot of colours, providing much delight to the eye. My own personal pleasure is walking along a unique back alley.

It's a narrow potholed metalled path just behind a row of houses separated by a small drain. On the other side is a broad strip of vegetation which includes fruit trees and flowering plants as well as the irrepressible lalang.

As one walks along the path, say in the late morning, the nostrils twitch with the rich aroma of various types lunch being prepared. But the sight I always look forward to is that of a big spread of pink and orange bougainvillea that has wrapped itself around a green tree.

I feel a warmth spread through me when I spot that patch of flowers bursting with bright energy as it baths in the sun. The thick bush appears to be on fire.

This attention to nature came more focused after my retirement. That is after the hard tight knot in my stomach that accompanied me throughout my career had dissolved gradually.

That disappearance seems to have sharpened my appreciation of my surroundings. And that includes the play of light and shadows on walls and curtains. The first time my attention was grabbed by this nature's play was in our previous residence in Kajang.

A potted plant or two, the sun at the right angle and a gentle breeze all combined to turn a wall into a stage. I watched in fascination as the moving shadows were transformed into warriors and kings, princess and dwarfs on a battlefield. It was sheer magic.

It took me some time to understand my unending fascination with this phenomenon. The impermanency of it all. When the sun moved on or a cloud hid it, the curtains fell. So, those moments when the wall came alive became precious.

One day the thought struck me that this must have been the process through which someone in ancient times thought up the idea of wayang kulit.

When we finally return to our old home in Kajang and the gateway to the rest of the country becomes a distant destination, I would still carry with me my very own gateway to the magic provided by nature and man.

But I still hate the thought of moving though.