This is happiness. This is contentment.
i. Sitting in the back seat, with the morning sun, golden, dappling through our windows as we navigate small turnings to get to the river. Chet Faker is humming through the speakers and I'm tucked in between my two bestfriends. The light continues to play warm patterns on my face.
ii. There is barbecue steam in the air, hovering lazily in between the green canopy above us. My t-shirt is wet, dripping down the rock I'm lying down on. I can hear them laughing and joking around, the stream bubbling in between rocks, critters chirping in unison somewhere in the forest, strangers shrieking as they splash down from the waterfall. I close my eyes.
iii. Almost on the highest point in town. Our favourite spot. These trees. These grasses. These hills. Almost amber from their original green as they play host to the sunset. The clouds are perfectly fluffy, cotton balls in the sky and we lounge, sharing secrets, talking and picking bits of leaves and twigs. We hear the azan echoing from the Blue Mosque, that blue mosque that's currently a dark silhouette against the changing sky.
iv. It's dark and the sound system is almost like an assault, but instead of rappers, with the cacophony of familiar voices, singing out loud and making fun. The words on the screen are a blur of blue and reds and gosh - this is the first time I've actually ever heard my younger brother sing in kareoke. The girls around me continue to laugh and shriek as they hit the highest note of whatever song was playing then. I lean back on this plastic sofa, wrapping my cotton hoodie tighter from the air conditioner, in the company of my favourite people.
v. We're in the car driving around town like so many other normal days and you've picked me up at home, parked at the cul de sac bend as it's always been for the past three years. I get into the car and we smile at each other, basking in our strangeness and familiarity. The twilight, pale lavender and roaring gold, welcomes us.
vi. Gazing down at the glittering city spread beneath us, reflected by lakes and night. It's 2am and this is random and slightly crazy, but we've made it all this way, with small thanks to persuasive powers. The breeze is rustling my hair and there isn't a car in sight. We take in the view as it takes our breath. "It's like the Republic City from the Air Temple Island" you say.
vii. Nasi Lemak Gembira.
i. Sitting in the back seat, with the morning sun, golden, dappling through our windows as we navigate small turnings to get to the river. Chet Faker is humming through the speakers and I'm tucked in between my two bestfriends. The light continues to play warm patterns on my face.
ii. There is barbecue steam in the air, hovering lazily in between the green canopy above us. My t-shirt is wet, dripping down the rock I'm lying down on. I can hear them laughing and joking around, the stream bubbling in between rocks, critters chirping in unison somewhere in the forest, strangers shrieking as they splash down from the waterfall. I close my eyes.
iii. Almost on the highest point in town. Our favourite spot. These trees. These grasses. These hills. Almost amber from their original green as they play host to the sunset. The clouds are perfectly fluffy, cotton balls in the sky and we lounge, sharing secrets, talking and picking bits of leaves and twigs. We hear the azan echoing from the Blue Mosque, that blue mosque that's currently a dark silhouette against the changing sky.
iv. It's dark and the sound system is almost like an assault, but instead of rappers, with the cacophony of familiar voices, singing out loud and making fun. The words on the screen are a blur of blue and reds and gosh - this is the first time I've actually ever heard my younger brother sing in kareoke. The girls around me continue to laugh and shriek as they hit the highest note of whatever song was playing then. I lean back on this plastic sofa, wrapping my cotton hoodie tighter from the air conditioner, in the company of my favourite people.
v. We're in the car driving around town like so many other normal days and you've picked me up at home, parked at the cul de sac bend as it's always been for the past three years. I get into the car and we smile at each other, basking in our strangeness and familiarity. The twilight, pale lavender and roaring gold, welcomes us.
vi. Gazing down at the glittering city spread beneath us, reflected by lakes and night. It's 2am and this is random and slightly crazy, but we've made it all this way, with small thanks to persuasive powers. The breeze is rustling my hair and there isn't a car in sight. We take in the view as it takes our breath. "It's like the Republic City from the Air Temple Island" you say.
vii. Nasi Lemak Gembira.
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