As I was seated on the bench in my son's school with the wind blowing through my hair, I reminisce of a place in my childhood. It brought me back to our airy living room, back when my siblings and I were just little children. Our spacious living room. It had nothing on it, just few chairs, some benches and side tables. We had no modern appliances or gadgets back then, save for a black and white television set.
Our living room, just like the rest of the house was made of wood. Nothing made out of glass or cement or marble or stone. Nothing there that was at risk of breaking. It was where we used to run around as small children. It was where we argued on various topics as teenagers. It was a free place. It was a free area. It was the happiest room.
Now that we are grown-ups with each our own lives to live, I think of how that living room used to be the biggest world we had. It was life. It was living.
It was a room where we lived life to the fullest.