We chose to travel by train, both to and from the mall. What made the experience special was the tunnel connecting the train station to one of the mall gates. An interesting fact about this tunnel is that it's not just a regular tunnel, but it also has a mini-market, with snack vendors, drinks, and escalators inside. The ceiling is decorated with beautiful lights, which make for a pleasant sight. Despite lacking air conditioning, the tunnel never felt hot or stuffy. What could have been a tiring journey actually felt short and comfortable.
On our way back, we stopped at the mini-market in the tunnel to buy a drink. Afterward, as we left the store, I crossed paths with a man. He looked to be in his early thirties and seemed to be working remotely as he carried a laptop while wearing very casual clothes— a t-shirt and knee-length shorts.
From where we stood, I could hear the train that we were supposed to board making its departure sound. Just as we were about to take the escalator, Yaya tightened her grip on my fingers and said, "Mom, my shoe came off."
I looked down and saw that indeed one of her shoes had almost fallen off her small foot. I crouched down to fix it, making sure both shoes were secure, comfortable, and wouldn’t slip off again while walking. Yaya smiled and thanked me after I finished helping her. At that moment, I realized the man I had crossed paths with earlier had already passed by. Perhaps he managed to catch the train that had just left. Unconsciously, I let out a sigh.
Being a mother often makes me feel this way; left behind. People seem to move so quickly, walking without obstacles or burdens, while I often feel like I’m just watching and offering small claps or comments that mean little. When I want to move as fast as I’d like, I have to face the reality that right now, it’s not just about me. I am with my small family, and compromises and negotiations often take longer than I expect. Walking with six feet, three heads, and more than one mouth is a challenge. We may all have our own ambitions, but those ambitions can’t always be pursued solely for personal satisfaction. If only one pair of feet moves while the others stand still, we’ll just end up falling and getting hurt.
By the time Yaya and I reached the top, the place was unusually quiet, even emptier than usual. Not more than five people were waiting, sitting and playing with their phones. The train would arrive in ten minutes. I sat with Yaya, chatted with her, sang her favorite songs, and gave her some snacks we had brought from home.
Before I knew it, the train we had been waiting for arrived. From the train’s slowly moving window, I saw that it was quite empty inside. Ah, a silent prayer of thanks crossed my mind. This way, we could get seats. There would be no crowd, no heat because the air conditioning wouldn’t work well in a packed train, and Yaya could relax.
Once again, being a mother teaches me to slow down. To appreciate time and togetherness, enjoy the moments, pay attention to more details, and not forget to be grateful for blessings that go unnoticed when we're in a hurry. Learning to select, correct, and evaluate, listen more often, make wiser choices, and accept the beginnings and ends of whatever form or result they may bring.
So this is the goodness in it all. The fruit of prayers and hopes, even though sometimes it makes me wonder, "When will this end? What’s the destination? Will I always move slower than others?"
The train moved for a few seconds after we found our seats. Yaya happily exclaimed, looking out the window. She chattered about the blue sky and the drifting clouds. I observed her round face and long eyelashes, just like her father's. In moments like this, I sometimes wish time would stop, allowing us to create more memories in our hearts, filled with joy.
Bogor, 24 Februari 2025
Siti Sonia Aseka
