To Be Young

I used to remember my grandfather grousing every time young children would come to play in the our house in Lianga. To him, the children meant a lot of noise and distractions, and he preferred his peace and quiet, just sitting quietly and reminiscing about the good old days.

Personally, I have always felt that most adults, in most cases, do not actually detest the idea of children playing around them or within their vicinity. They may proclaim vociferously that their work, if they are really doing any, is disturbed and hampered but the fact of the matter is deep inside we actually envy children and their infinite capacity to have fun.

A friend of mine who is in his sixties and who shares this view once told me that one of the reasons why he liked watching children play in and around his house is simply a sense of nostalgia, a deep longing for the innocent pleasures of his childhood. "Ah, to be young again!", he would exclaim with passion.

Sometimes I do get irked when I am doing some reading or actually working on something important and kids are running around, shouting and making a mess around me. But such occasions are rare. I usually just sigh with resignation and try to find a quieter spot for myself and let the children do their best in something they are the best at, being children.