Cemara Dinda
These days, it’s so easy to succumb to the annoyance of what went wrong. The truth is, no matter how much we wallow in the endless if-onlys, the past isn’t going to reset itself for us. I say, go grab a glass of milk. Haha. No, really. This weekend I found myself back home once more to enjoy the second consecutive long-weekend – eagerly anticipating the next one. Yes, there are three long weekends, and I’m taking it as a sign to recharge, and re-think a couple of aspects in my life that prevented me from walking-the-talk.
Anyways, last weekend while I was reading on my front porch, a familiar chirpy tune filled the hot afternoon air. A young man, with a cap and a small towel practically placed around his neck, passed by my house. And boy did I knew exactly the little treasures he had inside the coolbox attached to his bike.
Milk!
Yes, he was selling cold, tasty milk that my sweaty self definitely needed. Susu Nasional, has been longer than I’ve been alive, and I realized how much I underestimated its legacy. In case you weren’t informed, I I pretty much live for dairy.Not only that, there’s a particular nostalgia in running up to your house gate and calling out to your favorite street hawker. It takes me back to simple childhood days; giddily waiting for the ice cream man to come, and that would be the sole, greatest happiness of the day. Anyways, this is me trying to record the simplest things that bring me joy. I hope that through whatever life throws at you, that little girl or boy within yourself was able to look at
Through this post, I hope that through whatever life throws at you, remember the little girl or boy inside yourself who looked at the world and its simplest pleasures with wonder.