The other kind of time relativity
- Kampung Sapit, Kuching
A decade ago, I remember spending my long after-school afternoons wandering the neighbourhood on my own, searching for an unsuspecting stray kitty to bring home or sticking my arms through fences to pet my unsuspecting neighbours' dogs. My elder brother has just left home to be on the other side of the country for his tertiary studies. Self-entertainment was the only best option I had.
Whenever one of my cousins came by, we would patiently squat by the concrete drain just outside my then corner terrace house with a broom, bucket and dustpan at hand. Not to sweep the yard, but to 'sweep up' lil fishies that thrived in that muddy filth. They would soon become our pets for the next 2-4 months or so. Quite often, we'd have tadpoles, worms, snails and dragonfly larvae together in our little catch. A mini ecosystem that comes all in a scoop of drain water. How awesome! :D It was something I always looked forward to. Maybe that's where the whole fishing thing kicked in for me.
Sometimes on a breezy weekend afternoon, my cousins and I would be at my late maternal grandfather's place. We'd be rocking on an old face-to-face garden swing, chirping endless away about funny school stories, silly nightmares or made-up horror stories. My aunts would then bring us small delightful treats like a homemade cookie each or a glass of chilled grass jelly (cincau) and my granny would sneakily stick some 20-50 cents coins into our pockets - candy money - before we said our goodbyes.
On one fine day in the middle of August 1999, I became a very proud owner of a new puppy. Aww, finally, my own puppy! :) I can still remember just how absolutely delighted I was when I had him on my lap on the car ride home, cupped in my little hands. He was merely three weeks old, slightly frail and frightened. But he mixed in easily. What a mighty little one. My after school afternoons were spent differently now. I had a new companion, a new best friend. We would chase each other down around the neighbourhood or play hide-and-seek. He was like the little brother I never had (and still is).
Ten years down the road, things have certainly taken a shift. I am no longer that ten year old who prowls the neighbourhood for stray puppies and kittens, I no longer fish in the drains with my cousin, the large rusty swing is probably somewhere in the dumps and Booboo is no longer that bold agile puppy he once was. I am now a university student with two years to completion, my parents are reaching retirement age, my brother is almost hitting the 30s and Booboo is turning gray and passive. Everyone is growing up and growing old.
It's funny though. When you're younger, time seems to crawl by so slowly. But that speed notched up a little with every passing year. And you also kind of take it for granted that things and everyone around you would stay the way you last remember them to for always. A decade later, it disappoints me that it doesn't. In the midst of all these technological advancements we have today, I wish someone has devised a way to freeze time so I can keep those constants in my life, a constant.
Whenever one of my cousins came by, we would patiently squat by the concrete drain just outside my then corner terrace house with a broom, bucket and dustpan at hand. Not to sweep the yard, but to 'sweep up' lil fishies that thrived in that muddy filth. They would soon become our pets for the next 2-4 months or so. Quite often, we'd have tadpoles, worms, snails and dragonfly larvae together in our little catch. A mini ecosystem that comes all in a scoop of drain water. How awesome! :D It was something I always looked forward to. Maybe that's where the whole fishing thing kicked in for me.
Sometimes on a breezy weekend afternoon, my cousins and I would be at my late maternal grandfather's place. We'd be rocking on an old face-to-face garden swing, chirping endless away about funny school stories, silly nightmares or made-up horror stories. My aunts would then bring us small delightful treats like a homemade cookie each or a glass of chilled grass jelly (cincau) and my granny would sneakily stick some 20-50 cents coins into our pockets - candy money - before we said our goodbyes.
On one fine day in the middle of August 1999, I became a very proud owner of a new puppy. Aww, finally, my own puppy! :) I can still remember just how absolutely delighted I was when I had him on my lap on the car ride home, cupped in my little hands. He was merely three weeks old, slightly frail and frightened. But he mixed in easily. What a mighty little one. My after school afternoons were spent differently now. I had a new companion, a new best friend. We would chase each other down around the neighbourhood or play hide-and-seek. He was like the little brother I never had (and still is).
Ten years down the road, things have certainly taken a shift. I am no longer that ten year old who prowls the neighbourhood for stray puppies and kittens, I no longer fish in the drains with my cousin, the large rusty swing is probably somewhere in the dumps and Booboo is no longer that bold agile puppy he once was. I am now a university student with two years to completion, my parents are reaching retirement age, my brother is almost hitting the 30s and Booboo is turning gray and passive. Everyone is growing up and growing old.
It's funny though. When you're younger, time seems to crawl by so slowly. But that speed notched up a little with every passing year. And you also kind of take it for granted that things and everyone around you would stay the way you last remember them to for always. A decade later, it disappoints me that it doesn't. In the midst of all these technological advancements we have today, I wish someone has devised a way to freeze time so I can keep those constants in my life, a constant.
