It was not 'just' green chilli paste. It wasn't 'just' slices of fried mackerels, served over a pile of warm jasmine rice. It was his childhood and teenage memories rushing back at him in waves of melancholic feelings.
It tried to brand the understanding that his mother was no longer home, his siblings were just a few scratches on the memorial post, and his father was who was the only one left at home. But he ran away from this loving father to pursue something greater than him.
The end of the Council's era. That was his personal and professional goal, and Rasita knew that this ambitious goal would demand everything from him. From his identity as he could adapt to any new names or date of birth, to his family as he didn't want to endanger his father so he had to run away from home.
And the busyness, the hectic and nomad lifestyle he had been leading for these past couple of years suited him. But one thing he finally realised, it didn't serve him.
