Up on the mountainous northern part of the mineral-rich and fertile island
There laid this little village inhabited by less than one hundred people
It had neither electrical supply, convenient store nor a gas station
The closest ones were forty minutes ride by car from that little village
The small old wooden houses in that little village were spread on the mountain
Going from one house to another to visit the neighbors need extra physical work
Walking minutes to hours on the dirt roads, because there’s no other way than that
So it was not to anyone’s amazement when the little village was bit by bit left crumbling
Witnessed by its natural inhabitants, the underage kids and the elderly who could say nothing
Just like my father who left the little village even before he turned thirteen
Because he had his own dreams, to build his own better future
Riding in shiny motorcycles and living in a brick house with big glass windows
Instead of sweating and straining his muscles cultivating the rice fields
And struggling with low temperature at nights that freezes your breaths into dews once you exhaled
Because back in the time when the Dutch still colonized those fertile lands
Of the mountainous northern part of the mineral-rich and fertile island
Everyone wants to be like the people in the big cities
Just like my father who saw those big cities
From the thirty-five millimeters celluloid projected on large white fabric functioned as screen
Together with his peers and hundred others on that big grassy field
In the little town thirty minutes ride by car from his own village
That’s what people did back then to have some fun
That’s how my father got his inspirations and dreams for a better future
That’s also where and when he saw my mother for the very first time
That’s also why he left his parents in their old wooden house up on the mountain
Because he had his own dreams and he had fought to make them came true
So here I am now standing
Mere couple of years before turning thirty
And recently realized that
Probably, I was one of his many dreams but
Obviously he never told me that in words
He didn’t have to do it so simply because I already knew
Everytime I came home and hugged him
He hugged me back
The mutual feelings shared without any words being exchanged
I know I have to make it right this time to pay him back and make him proud
There laid this little village inhabited by less than one hundred people
It had neither electrical supply, convenient store nor a gas station
The closest ones were forty minutes ride by car from that little village
The small old wooden houses in that little village were spread on the mountain
Going from one house to another to visit the neighbors need extra physical work
Walking minutes to hours on the dirt roads, because there’s no other way than that
So it was not to anyone’s amazement when the little village was bit by bit left crumbling
Witnessed by its natural inhabitants, the underage kids and the elderly who could say nothing
Just like my father who left the little village even before he turned thirteen
Because he had his own dreams, to build his own better future
Riding in shiny motorcycles and living in a brick house with big glass windows
Instead of sweating and straining his muscles cultivating the rice fields
And struggling with low temperature at nights that freezes your breaths into dews once you exhaled
Because back in the time when the Dutch still colonized those fertile lands
Of the mountainous northern part of the mineral-rich and fertile island
Everyone wants to be like the people in the big cities
Just like my father who saw those big cities
From the thirty-five millimeters celluloid projected on large white fabric functioned as screen
Together with his peers and hundred others on that big grassy field
In the little town thirty minutes ride by car from his own village
That’s what people did back then to have some fun
That’s how my father got his inspirations and dreams for a better future
That’s also where and when he saw my mother for the very first time
That’s also why he left his parents in their old wooden house up on the mountain
Because he had his own dreams and he had fought to make them came true
So here I am now standing
Mere couple of years before turning thirty
And recently realized that
Probably, I was one of his many dreams but
Obviously he never told me that in words
He didn’t have to do it so simply because I already knew
Everytime I came home and hugged him
He hugged me back
The mutual feelings shared without any words being exchanged
I know I have to make it right this time to pay him back and make him proud
Note:
The old photograph posted above was taken from a Singaporean's blog.
The old photograph posted above was taken from a Singaporean's blog.
