Take a deep breath.

I like what I see outside of that window.
Feels like solitude. In the wild with nature.
No sound of traffic, clicking of keyboards,
only the sound of wind wafting and birds chirping.

I’m going home in a few days’ time. And it’s been one year.

I always look forward to celebrating Chinese New Year with the family. There’s just so much joy to be catching up with family members, old high-school friends, etc. Can’t wait. 🙂

Would also just like to attach a little story I wrote for Your Grandfather’s Road, a story that tells the tale of my little childhood road trip from Kuching back to Serian, where I used to live.

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I remember how safe I used to feel sitting in my Pa’s green Daihatsu Charmant cruising along with the constant and meditative buzz of its old air-con. My mum tells me that I used to be able to hum non-stop for the whole hour between our home and the most exciting city in Sarawak – Kuching. I’d make up my own tunes, warbling lyrics comprised of meaningless words. While my brother leaned into the corner immersed in the world of his gameboy, I would find pleasure in staring out the window watching the mighty rain-forest whiz by, fingers of heavenly sunlight poking through great fists of white puffy clouds, and occasionally, if I saw someone my age in an overtaking car, I would smile and make funny faces at them.

One day, in between the car seats I found a little hole from which I could see, and even touch (if I just reached down a foot or so), the road. From that momentous point onwards, a new game was born that brought my brother out of his fantasy world and me out of my dreamy stupor. In the beginning, we would crumple up a little piece of paper, push it through the hole, and on the count of three release it onto the road. We’d then pop our heads up excitedly to watch the piece of paper appear on the road behind the car and roll to a stop as our Daihatsu Charmant floated away into the distance. We soon graduated to pushing all sorts of mini objects through the portal of banishment, from stones to straws and once even my metal school badge (which I deeply regretted on the way back when the site of a car with a punctured tire on the way back filled my 9-year old mind with guilty thoughts).

But despite the scenery and activity (and not to mention the anticipation of Aunty Phua’s thick Sarawak laksa) that made the journeys to Kuching so much fun, nothing could compare to the surprises and adventures that awaited us on the night drive home. It was pitch-black most of the journey and our imaginations had a field day. And the occasional street lamps made for thrilling toilet breaks (avoiding both the gaze of on-coming traffic and the bites of creepy-crawly rainforest creatures). And sometimes, just sometimes, mother nature would award us a view of some random animal crossing the street – monitor lizards, rabbits, deer, and my own personal favourite, Mr Tortoise! When we saw Mr Tortoise, my Pa would stop the car, pick the little trotter and let it ride in our trunk with a fair share of road-side kangkung.

What were your childhood road-trips like?

Something that sounds so harmless like this phrase actually means a lot in a Malaysian context. 😉

Let me finally unveil the project that we’ve been working on for the past 5 months – www.yourgrandfathersroad.com

Slowly, I hope to tweet, facebook, and blog about it more often (if I can actually steal some time away from the load of work) – as it is a project I’m proud to be attached to and playing a part in making this groundbreaking crowdsourcing film project by the people, for the people.

It’s about time for a world currency. But will it happen this decade?