My sister... Ethaq, and her passion for dancing...

I had a chance to watch the KL Hornbill Festival recently. It was organised by the Persatuan Warisan Sarawak KL, and the festival was the association's first project/attempt to showcase the culture of the many tribes of Sarawak. It was interesting I must say... And they did a good job in organising it despite the lack of resources in terms of manpower and funding.

But what I really want to write here is something else. I want to write about my sister... My second youngest sister - Ethaq.

I went to the event because my sister was involved in it. Ethaq has always loved dancing. She has been dancing since she was very small - in primary school. I've watched her danced many times and in various places, but it was different that day - during the festival. I intially thought it, "oh well, it's just another show that she's involved in". But what happened was the opposite. Those two nights were amazing, to me.

When I saw her coming out from the backstage with the rest of the dancers, my heart jumped! I thought, "Is that Ethaq?"... She looked very different. I mean, really different. No wonder I didn't notice her when she was on stage during the mock 'miring' session. She was seated right there at the front and I didn't noticed it! Even Ras didn't!

She danced the Iban dance, Bisaya dance, and the Melanau dance. She was very graceful. Demure. At one point, I even had tears in my eyes... I had tears not because I was sad... I had tears because I was overwhelmed with the feeling of pride of her. Watching her on stage was... I don't really know how to describe it explicitly, really. I was proud watching her doing something that I know she was so passionate about. I was proud that she was on stage performing the dances. On top of all, I was proud that one of those lovely young ladies on stage was my sister!

I went to both nights of the festival. I waited with anticipation for her to come out and dance. Never had I felt that way before. Never. Everytime she came on stage, my heart skipped a beat. She was lovely! (But she looked a little thinner than she used too. Must be because of the many nights of practice and rehearsals). I called my parents on the first nite hoping to tell them how proud I was with my sister. I wanted to tell my father to propose for a workshop on Bisaya traditional dance and music. To find ways to educate and train the youngsters on the Bisaya culture. Unfortunately, I didn't get to do it because my father won't talk to me... *Sigh* That's another story for another day...

Anyway, back to my sister. Since that night I have noticed that Ethaq has grown. She has grown to a beautiful young lady. I remember how she was when she was a little girl. She was funny. There were some funny incidents which all of us (my siblings and I) used to tease her about. Aahhh... Ethaq... No matter how quiet she can be, she can be really funny at times...

I guess we tend to take things for granted until that one fine moment hit us in the head and we realise that we have missed enjoying some of those parts in life that have passed us by. We won't know it until it happens. I didn't know it until it hit me last weekend.

I love my sister. She wasn't perfect. But I still love her. Quietly, and deep down in my heart, I am thankful to God that I have her as sister... I won't change it. Not in another lifetime...