Last night, full family got together at Chinese Box (NUS Bukit Timah Campus) for dinner. During the dinner, my dad, uncles, aunt and my grandmom started reminiscing their kampong days. And it was the most exhilarating experience ever, as the younger generation was left to imagine how, in those days, contentment was derived from the simplest of things.
Honestly, we have missed alot, as we toil to make the grades or to beat the highest score. The pet chickens, the attap roofs, the friendly neighbours, the kampong clowns; all these compared to our comfortable living standards in this concrete jungle, which one do you reckon would give more meaning to living?
Think about this: do you have any stories to tell your grandchildren about how you lived your childhood? Do you have any excerpts about the people you meet daily (milkmen, karang guni, canteen guy, etc) which you could happily enjoy recalling with your siblings, cousins or friends when you are at a family dinner?
There's something about the kampong spirit, that can't be replace by luxury and comfort.