The Corner of 4 years ago

Dorchester St., corner St. John's Road.

Buses 007, 625, 685 collect people from the bus stop in front of Purewa Cemetery.

The crackling sound of the cooking oil as the fish wrapped with flour sizzle into brown fills the fish and chip shop.

The Indian lady smiles at me across the counter of the dairy shop where I usually top up my Go Rider bus card.

Portofino sleeps through the day, quietly anticipating the catchup dinners and laughter at night.

I sit on the edge of the colour gray bench, my favorite spot. The breeze is cooler than a few weeks before, signs of autumn and winter approaching. I take my first bite off the tip of my Nestle Caramel flavoured ice cream while grasping everything around me, enough to feed my hungry senses. I want to take this with me forever.

This is where it all started for me. Meadowbank Suburb, Auckland Region, 2006. Dorchester St. corner St. Johns Road. I feel nostalgic.

Simple. Defined.

I loved the silence of that life 4 years ago. When responsibilities were things of the future and places were yet to be explored. Things were simple back then. To buy a bottle of milk in the freezing cold of winter wasn't much of a big deal. We didn't have a car so we decided to buy a cheap stroller bag to carry our weekly grocery from the far away bus stop. Dragging it up Gowing drive was always a challenge, until it gave up on us. It's last day of service was a hilarious scene of me running after the wheel that got loose.

Weekends were filled up with household chores, lazy sundays and library moments. That was the routine. Plain and simple. No hang ups, just full of dreams for the years to come.

We just lived in a 1-bedroom apartment that was damp and chilly in winter, but we never complained. The electric stove seemed to have stood there for centuries but it still cooked fine. We only had a small 4-chair table covered with cheap linen. The receiving area was small but cozy, designed with a sofa which actually served as a bed. All of the furnitures were second hand, bought by my sister from the amazing world of Trade Me.

We actually lived in the garage floor of a 2-storey house in Meadowbank. A chinese couple upstairs seemed to have always acted as our silent guardian. When rain started to pour, Lee (the wife), would pack up our hanging laundry in our absence. And during the harvest season, she would knock at our door with her lovely smile, giving us a few of her husbands delights from their garden.

Simple. Small. But enough. We had our privacy, and we had our routines.

Now and again I revisit that corner. I labour my mind with the memories. I lavish my thoughts with the simplicity and how I actually would want it to be that way again, knowing in the back of my mind it wouldn't be. Or perhaps in another country? or in another lifetime?

How come it's turned complicated this time?

.... I rest my mind..