I was on a driving lesson with my uncle. The sun is about to set when I finally able to have a smooth hold on the steering wheel, sweating hands and all. Who wouldn't when you're driving without a license (hi cops out there!).
We stopped at a nearby top of the hill. The bedazzled city started appearing with lights scattered like stars in a smoke-filled sky. I sat on the driver's seat, comparing the busy life out there and my laid-back moment in here. I saw the darkened path from behind when I glanced at the rear view mirror. The trees formed an arch alongside the street giving me an impression that I just went out from what it seemed to be a tunnel-like way. The mountain is obliterated. And lights from household also started to appear. I imagined smoke coming from their kitchen, preparing their tables, and someone must be staring down from that height. Staring at where I am. And wondering what kind of light it must be. Not knowing that inside that car, I too, is wondering what kind of lights down in there.
I started the engine again, my hands more relaxed, my heart overwhelmed with a reverberating sound. I don't know if I should call it JOY, or PEACE, or GRATEFULNESS, or probably, a concoction of both, or of all. I wonder how to freeze moments like that, when nothing seems to matter anymore. When you forgot what you worry about. When you forgot to worry at all.
I keep my hands steadied on the steer, looking at the rear view every now and then. What's left behind is utterly beautiful.
I drove home silently. I figured out our house with smoke coming from the kitchen, table prepared for dinner, and my family waiting.
I keep my hands steadied on the steer, more focused on the forefront. What's coming is perpetually promising.
I was dumbfounded.
Roads are meant to be traveled forward.
Goodnight!
