Hanoi in monsoon!

As the breeze got colder recently, I feel like putting down my words to make it as a habit. In this way, I could keep memories on life, before these trains of thoughts rush away.

Just like many others, I fell in love with the signature winter cold of the North Vietnam, where chilly breezes hit in early winter. How long has it been since you last wandered around, just to look at life in its simplicity with not a care in the world? How long has it been since you last left the room, strolling around by yourself, then stopping by a street stall, simply to take in the scent of winter in grilled corn, sweet potato or fried banh chung... 

Living in Hanoi now, I still have a longing for my hometown. I miss the feeling of cycling to school with friends, feeling the winter cold outside my thin layer of jacket. It's been so long since I last stopped in the middle of the field, looking at the silent field during its harvest season, feeling the chilly breeze sweeping through my skin. 

Memories sometimes dawn back on me, of the time when I was 6 or 7 years old... Back then, I used to follow my mother to water the field of yams and corns near my house. I still remember the sight of my mother hunching down to water the plants or fertilize the soil with rice husk, while little me was telling her stories at school, how Yen hit me, how well the small Trang was doing in class. Those moments are incredibly peaceful. I don't know for how long can I keep those memories.  

Life is fragments of memories, etched so deeply in our mind that we sometimes forget its existence amidst the rat race. Then one day, as we recall everything, a sense of regret and melancholy filled our heart. 

It seems like the weather can affect our emotions, letting dreamers like me get lost in thoughts and live true to ourselves. Some are in such frenzy that they leave behind their past self and all those dear memories. Beauty is something that not anybody can embrace. I feel sorry for some who work their whole year just to go travel only once in a blue moon. And for that, they seem to have forgotten what is beauty, the beauty of the afternoon breeze, of a warm sun ray, or the misty early dew!