Durian Love.

I've been living in this quiet neighbourhood for almost 13 years now, and though it may seem like such a long time, I spent most of it within the comforts of my room. I don't go out much, and honestly there isn't much to distract a person from a hermit existence here, if you really wanted to indulge in it. So I must shamefully admit; I don't really know my neighbourhood that well.

Nevertheless, like people, my neighbourhood has its funny quirks and interesting idiosyncracies, ones that are hard to ignore after living here for 13 years. For example I know that on most mornings, at the very least, when the sun has just come up, I see Mr. Gentle Giant.

Mr. Gentle Giant is this man with a kind face, wears spectacles, has fluffy hair, a moustache and possibly a stubbed chin, though I can't be sure - I'm never close enough to make out his face clearly, and is ridiculously tall. He sticks to routine, and if you should happen drive by my house one day at probably 8.30 am in the morning, you might chance to see this thin, tall man, with shorts and slippers, carrying his dog in the mornings.

That's right. I think I remember noticing a leash, but he would always have his small dog in his arms (carrying it like a baby) and walk serenely by the roadside every morning. Of course, when I see him, I'm either too late, or too early for something I'm supposed to be doing somewhere and chances are I'm rushing, but when I do notice Mr. Gentle Giant I can't help but smile to myself.

Then there's also the Durian lovers.

The Durian lovers are these married couple (I think, but I might be wrong) who happen to sell Durians every wednesday nights by the roadside at the night market near my house. They drive a van with them, the ones with the flaps by the side, and they set up a small stall with generator lights, lay out durians, and sit down on plastic chairs and wait for their customers.

Every time I see them, I almost never see customers, and instead I see them talking with each other. They'd look at each other, making jokes, and they'd always be smiling or laughing, and at other times, they'd just sit next to each other holding hands looking exactly like those new couples you saw when you were 16 and in high school.

And all this actually makes me wonder sometimes, If I can actually do without the zillions of dollars I should be making, and all the beautiful supermodels I should be marrying, without the bungalow houses, the fame and fortune and whether I can live out the rest of my days with something just as simple as carrying a dog in my arms in the mornings, or just sell durians with my wife every wednesday nights.

Strange, isn't it?