The random strangers and their stories; the aromatic steam from freshly brewed coffees; the old music I danced and sang to; the motes gracefully floating in the sunbeam; the gentle flapping of cloths in the clothes line; the serene morning scenes in the middle of the ricefield; the crickets telling me to go home; the AM radio dramas; the broken rubber slippers and tattered shirts; the bike rides along sugarcane trucks; the rivers and waterfalls; the mudfights; the sands between my toes; the loving souls who gave me my childhood; the mistakes and regrets; the dreams and little triumphs—they were all brought into my life, in bits and pieces, a day at a time, so I can make this book breathe and live. It's all thanks to them, the unforgettable and fading memories that make things familiar and new.

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