A Bullock Cart From Malacca

Long and winding road with patches and holes The holes which sometimes turned into small ponds, every time after a heavy downpour You can no longer smell the tar on a hot, burning day The road was too old even the town council named it the road to cemetery A rural town occupied by Malay farmers, rubber tapers and pensioners living in kampong An enormous green paddy field spreaded in the middle, next to the road Sandwiched by villagers' Meranti wooden Atap houses. To get to the town walk your way, cycling don't miss the bus or you have to wait for another hour to get one (you can take a pirate taxis that operate in odd hours) Small streams crossed at the center of the rice fields The streams that supplied enough fresh water fish for the villagers to consume Vegetables were grown like mushrooms covering most of front and backyards Fruits farm aplenty and became local delights whenever the season comes Every house had their Well, as deep as 10 meter with cold fresh water being channeled from the nearby hill named Bukit Lintang The vast green land were also scattered with cows, goats, sheeps and water buffalos owned by the villagers. In the evening images of small kids riding on buffalo's back on the way homes is a typical scene, which need to be captured on films for nostalgic reasons. In the misty morning where dawn had just emerged villagers throwing dried corns, rice to the grounds. Hungry poultry feeds their way through. School going kids walked 3 miles to school, cutting through plantations, paddy field for the shorten route. The sound of azan (calls for prayers five times a day required by Muslims) echoed from the surau and mosque, could be heard across the village. To own a vehicle is luxury Bullock Cart (wagon pulled by cows) was used in redundant. Ferrying firewood, rice sacks, for shipment to the town called Masjid Tanah sometimes ferrying villagers to attend weddings in the neighborhood or just a bunch of cheerful kids who like to have a ride around the kampong. I remembered I was having a great time taking a ride on this bullock cart owned by my grandfather, going to town whenever I paid him a visit. I was 8 years old Riding the time of my life Befriended the bulls Bonded And sacred Kampong Solok Air Batu Will always on my mind Well, no matter how far I traveled The reminiscent of being part of kampong's folk riding the Bullock Cart will still and forever (which I hope) remain in my mind Thanks folks for the memories.