And so I thought I would write this down, let the story uttered. It was on an extremely foggy Friday afternoon after all the lectures had finished and me and my uni friends decided to relax ourselves, get out from the hectic world of campus. Freezing-deadly-cold with temperature of 3 celcius degrees, we easily made friends with smoke when we let out a word from our little mouth. Six of us; me the indonesian, Mai the half english-palestinian, Sultan the 2% arab with the rest 98% of hair, Guia the italian-producer-to-be, Julie the french mademoiselle, and Charlotte our princess from Switzerland drove away to Staines, the nearest ‘lively’ town from Egham, the area of my uni. We were cruising around, passing the old houses with enormous backyards and ponds, trying to enjoy the town while only leafless trees were visible. Somewhat depressing but to me it was tranquil and undisturbed.

Our steps led to Costa, one of the cafes in the town centre, famous of its hot chocolate with marshmallows, suits this sort of weather best. Alas, I ordered cafe mocha with caramel syrup since I’m apparently allergic to the thing, the chocolate. We sat down on a brown velvet couch by the window, looking at the  outside people walking pass by who are mostly wearing thick outfits complete with fancy gloves and scarves. There was a  little girl walking wround with her pink earmuffs plugged, which I find amusing. We were all dazed by the sphere.

The conversation flew silky smoothly, we understood each other we were on a high level of tiredness, do our best not to start chatting about one serious-heavy talking point. Up until the moment when Sultan talks about his cousins, nephews and nieces back home, how he misses them lot, how he fancies playing around with them so bad. From then on we were talking about children, kids and our lovely childhood. All perfecto.

Then I expressed my thoughts about having my own kids when I’m older, how I would love to be taking care of them and watch them grow. Surprisingly enough those thoughts sparked off Mai’s lines of thinking. “I don’t wanna have children. Babies are boring. I can’t see myself not sleeping every night in a whole year just to hold, cuddle and feed them. No.” I was honestly taken aback, wouldn’t expect something like that coming from a girl who I think has a very motherly side out of her.

“Well you could get a nanny instead and when your kid got older then that’s your turn to raise them up. Easy.” Julie confronts straight away. I saw Charlotte nodding. Mai replies, “That’s the worst alternative ever. I prefer not to have a child of my own rather than to have them brought up by a stranger who doesn’t even know how to change nappies and ends up being called ‘Mummy’ while I’m still around. I’d rather adopt children, there’s so many of them in my country, the refugees, infants who don’t get decent foods and housing, A bloody LOT of them.”

I fell silent, well all of us did. Makes sense, of what she just said. It is tough to be a mum, the responsibility within. But somehow we still consider it as a nature, every woman has to have her own children to inherit. Then when we look at the other side of the world, gazillions of kiddos are struggling with their lives, waiting for a pinch of pleasure to come and say hi. Such a contrary to be faced.

The rest of the afternoon were grey still, sky turning black, stars shining their sparkle, sun hides away, moon pops its face out. God, how you made this earth full of divergent magnitude, no one knows…

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