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I can't remember when I started wearing a fake smile to deal
with unpleasant things, or when I lost my innocent laughter and began to
understand the ways of the world.
As a child, the happiest moments were receiving a candy or a doll from my
grandpa's hands, and sitting under the biggest and lushest banyan tree in
the village with the neighbor girl. We would chat endlessly about anything,
sipping on ice-cold smoothies and making foam mermaids that never got
boring. We only knew it was time to go home when smoke rose from the
village, and our mothers called out our names. We would return, sometimes to
be scolded, but we never stopped having fun.
I remember the laughter of carefree days by the clear stream, where we
played barefoot and caught fish and shrimp with our little friends. But we
always ended up getting yelled at by angry adults.
As we grew up, the neighbor girl moved to the city to study, our childhood
friends drifted away, and the old candy seller passed away. The banyan tree
that held so many memories was cut down, and the stream filled in by an
industrial zone, with its smoke replacing the village's cooking smoke.
Time flew by, memories faded, and the innocence of childhood disappeared.
Walking down the concrete streets of the city, a chilly gust of wind brought
my thoughts back. The carefree smiles of my childhood friends were replaced
by fake ones, and the fairytales of foam mermaids were replaced by celebrity
stories. I now have to face the realities of the "ways of the world."
As we age, we lose the search for our genuine smiles and understand the
tragedies of the world.
Our purest smiles are lost in the passage of time. |
