The Golden Days In Childhood

How nice, how free it is to perch as a bird on a tree. 

Every time he fishes in a creek, a river or a lake, just catching the smallest fish is so exciting.

Eating unripe or any other fruit which he has shot with his catapult is so sweet.

Seeing the living, breathing light of a firefly perching or flying as a shooting star is so enchanting, so wonderful.

Hearing the chirping seriringan cricket in a box is sweeter than even an angel’s song.

Then watching, following a squirrel, a wood pigeon, a circling hawk, a chameleon, a fresh water turtle,

catch a tree-spider, a scorpion, chase after dragonflies, yu-yu or fresh water crabs, climb and see a nest with baby birds, watching cricket fights, …

or have es cincao, iced jelly-like pudding from cincau leaves

or es gantung, snowballed ice with syrup on a stick,

fly kites, play gasing, a spinning toy that’s whipped with a cord,

play congklak, a canoe-like playing board of wood with two times seven holes filled with seashells,

having a camp fire out of collected waste of dry leafs, then roasting ground nuts or ketela (cassava) in its ashes, Hm, Hm,

or keep, take care of chickens, fishes, a rabbit, a squirrel, … What a joy.

Such were the golden days, the golden hours in childhood in the thirties.

From Jayakarta, June 1, 1992