I

      My heart climbed with the coconut boy. He moved upwards, intent and focused. The coconuts were just within reach. How many would he pick? A friend snapped a photo of our hike on Ubin Island that day. 

      In the swaying palm trees of the Malay village, I saw a bare boy wriggling his body, clutching the trunk, striving to ascend. He wanted the coconuts above. 

      Big beads of sweat slid down his face, red with exertion. Yet his eyes sparkled with the light of youth. He was alive, full of energy. Friends below called out, offering advice, cheering him on. 

       I heard my heart beat with each inch he climbed. I sighed, “Ah, to be young is beautiful.” 

II

      Would I Be That Coconut Boy? 

      For a few cents, would I toil so much? Not for me, today, in my comforts. Yet inside, I felt many stirrings—not for any reason, just for the sake of youth:

       — The foolishness of youth,

       — The simplicity of youth,

       — The friendships of youth,

       — The vanity of youth,

       — The stubbornness of youth... 

      Youth is not always beautiful. But it is that very youth which drives one to pick coconuts. 

      I gently called to my friend with the camera, “Quick! Capture this moment!”

“Click, click!” He sought angles, focused and pressed the shutter, moving, again focusing……

      Suddenly, “Bang!” Not the click, but a bang! Then came the chorus of alarms from the boy’s friends. 

      I looked up, and oh! The boy had fallen. He was no longer on the tree; the grass concealed him from view. He had slipped, and the coconuts remained untouched. 

III

       A New Beginning 

      From behind the bushes, I heard his friends checking on him.       Thankfully, he was unhurt. Their voices, filled with discussion and introspection, showed they would not abandon the challenge of climbing. 

    Such rare boldness! I clapped, long and hard. My applause echoed through the bushes, lonely and jarring……

      I knew him not, yet would he find my sudden cheer strange? 

      I did not know. The trees hid his face from me.

But it didn’t matter! Ubin Island stripped away the armor of the city: its guards, indifference, formalities, and masks. Ubin Island felt free and easy……

      Did the boy ever pick a coconut? I did not know.

For soon, my friends and I cast our cameras aside and continued our journey; modern life rushes on, ever onward. 

The lush green of coconut leaves rustled in the wind, and my steps danced with joy, uplifted by the coconut boy’s youthful spirit……