small action = big action;

theres this REALLY old and shattered 2-storey house beside my hostel. i walked past it every single day, and i remembered the first time when i saw it, i went "OMG tokyo still has this kinda housin?"

the walls are all wood planks, and its more ulu than say... pulau ubin. i'd never seen such ulu house in malaysia/singapore, let alone tokyo - the highest standard livin place in the world for 14 years in a row.

theres this old lady who stays in that house. she could only closed the door by kickin it. and when i see her, i never failed to greet her, chat for a lil while before going out or going home. she too, never failed to smile when she sees me, and always ask me to take care of myself.

so today, after the long ass ashinaga camp's meetin, i went home and i saw her outside. she called for me and asked me to turn her door knob to check if the door's safely locked. to others, it might seem as a simple task, but her, with one hand holdin her walkin stick and the other feeble, it is like, mission impossible.

so i turned the doorknob, assured her that its safely locked, and she started tellin me how her daughter was never there and thus she's always alone and how hard it's for her to stay alone, dealin with to-us-the-most-simple tasks. then tears started comin out and she chocked while i gave her assurance that everythin is gonna be okay. we bid goodbye and i went home with a heavy heart.

just how many old people are there, livin in this cold harsh world? and when i assured her that everythin is gonna be alright, what is gonna be alright?

what is everythin to them, except their own family love?

*mwahs @ 4:58 PM