My Childhood

I miss childhood.
The smell of coffee in the morning.
The rustling of newspapers with my eyes still shut.
The smell of cigarette smoke from the previous day.

I miss my Guma asking me what I wanted for breakfast,
and saying that I want Chai dao gui (carrot cake).
I remember liking roti prata with sugar and wanton mee too.

I miss bugging my cousins to bring me bishan park,
To feed the fishes with white bread.
I miss hiding under the bed every friday night,
When my parents came to 'fetch' us home.

I miss the sound of my aunt's sewing machine,
Puts me to sleep.
I miss 'Happy', the old brown Pomoranian,
Though she was grouchy most of the time.

I miss the salty taste of tears in your nose,
When you cried with all your heart over the smallest matters.
I miss being taught the right and wrongs,
By adults who really believed it.
These days I wonder how survived all their life with the same values,
While so many others were corrupted.

I miss watching the same fairy tales on black box tapes.
Rewind, play, Rewind play.
Cinderella, Roger Rabbit, Snow white.

I miss drinking soy bean milk,
and pretending that its real cows milk (which I hate),
And feeling like I'm part of a milk ad.
I miss drinking campbell soup with my sister,
and discussing which tape to watch again that day.

I miss building fragile little tents,
with blankets, chairs and pillows.
That fall apart so easily.
It was my secret hiding place with my sister.

Having a memory of the past is really a luxury,
For I have blocked out selective memories to make living easier.
For such a long time, I forgot what my childhood was like,
I am glad that I do remember these few bits now.
At least I have some stories to tell my kids in the future.