4km

The breeze of fresh air surrounded the interior of the car. Nature's air condition they say. Wallflower's 'Heroes' was playing from one of many cd compilations we did. We weren't the kind of kids blessed with wealthy families that could easily go to the music stores and buy cds. Plus we would make our own "perfect" albums albeit without the licensing.

My stomach began to grumble. So we stopped at a nearby hawker stall. It was those van turn stall type of things where they sell rojak, cendols and other side hawker foods. As we were slurping away at our cendol pulut, an old man walked to our table. It was a little van so there was little amount of tables that were set up.

This man walking with a cane brought along one of his grandchild for company. There were there to get their usual cendol to take back home. He began to make small conversations asking us where we were from and all that. He then reminisced about the good ol' days.

"This plot of land used to be a forest you know" he said. "There used to be a river flowing right were that drainage used to be" he added. "We used to go out hunting on the weekends. Now it's all developments. Buildings and houses rising everywhere. I just hope my grandchildren does not live in a world where they forget their roots, their origins" he said as he patted the head of his grandchild. All of us just nodded in agreement.

When his order arrived he took it in one of his hand and the other on his cane. His grandchild helped him up. Hold him tightly as they were going to cross the street. He looked at us and said "I guess this is goodbye then. Hope to see you guys again". We only smiled back as to say goodbye.

We looked at each other as if one of us were about to say something but there was silence as the breeze took the words out of our mouths.