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Musing About A Cottage
This cottage lies in a valley, surrounded by trees, fishponds, cool, peaceful in a village somewhere in Tajur Halang. How long will it last? The owner might sell this paradise one day for the joys of money, or is forced to give up for the building of a new large real estate, ...
This cottage lies in a valley, surrounded by trees, fishponds, cool, peaceful in a village somewhere in Tajur Halang. How long will it last? The owner might sell this paradise one day for the joys of money, or is forced to give up for the building of a new large real estate, ...
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| Close Up View |
These lotos’ are no
more on lake Kemuning. They’re weeded
out.
And I thought of the many paradises I’ve visited, as I travelled running or cycled into the country: Serpong, Jurang Mangu, Muara Karang, ... sold and now gone forever. They’ve proudly changed them into Jakarta of today, of technology, to provide for the threatening population increase with new tall buildings, houses, toll roads, noise, traffic jams, pollution, stress, ...
This is a picture of a charming village, Cilenggang, as I picture it in words, for I hadn’t got a camera then:
The country road, so cool, so shady and winding. The village houses small, so welcome, not cold and proud as grand mansions, the gardens without borders, ...
Wow, how delightful it was to be welcomed by a girl with a branch of red colored “rambutan” just taken from the tree after being tired, running in Cilenggang, which I did not eat but took home to decorate the dining table.
Though there was no park, just by going down a path through a bamboo-wood, I got a captivating view of Eden’s garden in a valley below.
And as Adam, my eyes, delighted, enjoyed to see a verdant earth, a waterfall on the hills far away and the rice fields near below. My feet tripped, danced along a winding path, following a brook with rich vegetation bordering the sides and lovely, laughing, washing, bathing nymphs and women. My ears feasted on sounds of falling water in the rice fields and fishponds. I deeply breathed the pure fresh air, I bought me cendol (gelatin drops in iced sweet coconut milk) of a vendor, sitting somewhere lingering on a trunk, my heart so grateful, rapturously singing, though it was just in Cilenggang, not in Bali, the island of the Gods.
And that was but some twenty years ago – perhaps some of you are not yet born - and now they’re no more. Who would miss them?
September 2012
And I thought of the many paradises I’ve visited, as I travelled running or cycled into the country: Serpong, Jurang Mangu, Muara Karang, ... sold and now gone forever. They’ve proudly changed them into Jakarta of today, of technology, to provide for the threatening population increase with new tall buildings, houses, toll roads, noise, traffic jams, pollution, stress, ...
This is a picture of a charming village, Cilenggang, as I picture it in words, for I hadn’t got a camera then:
The country road, so cool, so shady and winding. The village houses small, so welcome, not cold and proud as grand mansions, the gardens without borders, ...
Wow, how delightful it was to be welcomed by a girl with a branch of red colored “rambutan” just taken from the tree after being tired, running in Cilenggang, which I did not eat but took home to decorate the dining table.
Though there was no park, just by going down a path through a bamboo-wood, I got a captivating view of Eden’s garden in a valley below.
And as Adam, my eyes, delighted, enjoyed to see a verdant earth, a waterfall on the hills far away and the rice fields near below. My feet tripped, danced along a winding path, following a brook with rich vegetation bordering the sides and lovely, laughing, washing, bathing nymphs and women. My ears feasted on sounds of falling water in the rice fields and fishponds. I deeply breathed the pure fresh air, I bought me cendol (gelatin drops in iced sweet coconut milk) of a vendor, sitting somewhere lingering on a trunk, my heart so grateful, rapturously singing, though it was just in Cilenggang, not in Bali, the island of the Gods.
And that was but some twenty years ago – perhaps some of you are not yet born - and now they’re no more. Who would miss them?
September 2012
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