there is this one particular kind of ice cream that my parents love. we discovered it while living in taikoo shing and it quick became the sort of thing that made an appearance on the dinner table during special occasions like birthdays and anniversaries and whenever my mother was in a good mood. i was in charge of cutting the block of vanilla-and-chocolate into portions that would satisfy everyone enough to maintain peace in the household, but i always gave myself a little more. just an extra mouthful for my troubles.
in singapore, i had the good fortune of living in a hostel located 2 bus stops away from the one and only ikea store on the island. some weekends we’d get out of bed really early to have french toast and sausages for breakfast. some evenings we’d take a stroll there for hotdogs and soft-serve ice cream. sure, it was double the price of a sundae cone from the friendly neighbourhood mcdonalds across the street, but we were happy to spend the extra 50 cents for a bite of happiness in a real wafer cone.
the tutorial rooms were my favourite haunt in my former campus. i spent a great deal of time in there
studying struggling through my notes while my friends fought their own battles in there too. once in awhile, we’d break into conversation and prayer and when we’ve had our toilet breaks, our heads went straight back behind the endless pile of books and notes to read. more often than not, someone would slam their books on the table in defeat and that indicated that it was time to pay a visit to the drive-in at the sungai besi petronas station. for mcflurries, strawberry sundaes, ice cream cones. and fries. don’t ever forget the large serving of fries, dipped in melting vanilla.
you can’t ever go through life alone – without family, friends, fellow fries-and-mcflurry fans. there is no way you can ever doubt the happiness that comes with icecream, a concoction of cream and sugar that evoke memories that survive long after the first cortices atrophy.
hypothetically or not.