childhood

I ate Macdonald's with a group of friends from 4K today because we wanted to finish the mac vouchers that we won from the financial lit class quiz :)

We really had quite a good time I think (at least from my point of view). We chatted and laughed a lot - thanks to Dion!

Oh, just to mention, I am currently having my common tests. I had Language Arts and Chinese yesterday and it's Math 1 and Literature today. The tests were relatively okay, except LA simply because it was the first test and because I did not have enough time (frustrated). 

But it's over! So there's not much I can do for it already :))

Anyway, when going home today, Shermaine and I saw this small kid (a boy) who was let's see, 1 year old? I am not very good at judging a child's age. However, he was adorable and tiny. I think he can barely speak. He was able to walk though. When we walked into the train, the boy just started smiling at Shermaine and I in a very mischievous manner which was cute at the same time. 

After Shermaine left, I was left in the train alone. I continued staring at the boy.

He was fiddling with his grandpa's fingers. When their station arrived, the boy clutched his grandpa's hand, which was too big for his tiny hand. He then reached out and held his grandma's pinky. In doing so, he lost grasp of his grandpa's hand. Eventually, he resorted to holding his grandma's pinky finger and his grandpa's fourth finger. 

I have no idea why but I was captivated by this whole process.

No matter what, the little boy was going to walk out of the train holding both his grandpa and grandma's hands. Despite the tiny fingers he had, he held onto them tightly. 

I continued watching them as the doors closed.

And suddenly, I had this overwhelming urge to cry. 

It was really unexpected. Even as I am typing this, the feelings come rushing back all at once and my eyes tear.

I think it was the feeling of nostalgia. Looking at that little boy, I started to wonder if I was like that once, holding onto my grandparents' hands so tightly. I wondered if I ever held my grandparents' hands that tightly. This is especially important because my grandpa passed away when I was... primary 4? I am not sure. My memories of them are very faint, simply because they are the memories of a child.

I started to wonder if I had actually cherished them and let them know that they were important to me, just as that boy had done with the simple act of holding their hands.

Looking back, I really hoped that I did. Because then I would not have any regrets. The only time when you get to express your true emotions without fear of anything is when you are still clueless about the world, when you are still a child. I hoped that I had shown them that I did indeed treasure them, because I dare not show such feelings now.

When you get older, expressing your feelings become harder, more difficult.

And most of all, I wished for myself to be that little boy.

I wanted to go back to my childhood days. I craved for it there and then.

When you grow older, you start to realise the realities of the world around you. You start being burdened. You start being oppressed. You start being less happy.

I wanted to go back in time then. 

And as I held back my tears in the train, I realised that some things just cannot be done.