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The Ice Pong Story

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He is not a gigolo.Ooooo now I know.
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Yesterday was Sunday. Rest day for all.  I just stay at home, enjoying my bed as much as I can besides doing laundry and cleaning up my room. Around 1.30 p.m., I march myself to nearby restaurant to buy some food. I’m so hungry after whole morning those chores.


As I passed by a grocery store nearby the restaurant, I could see few boxes of Ice Pong. For those who never knew about Ice Pong, let me describe it for you. Ice Pong is the definition of ice cream for a kampung boy like me. It made of colored sugary water with some acidic taste to it (Kids shoudn’t eat this). We called it ice cream because grocery store normally sold them in ice form by cooling it off in refrigerator.


I remember when I was in primary school. I eat lots of Ice Pong, you could literally say that I grew up eating Ice Pong. You can get it as cheap as 10 cent per stick. The way to eat Ice Pong is special whereby you need to tear down the ice pong and eat one half at a time. With just 10 cent, you could get 2 part of Ice Pong which you could share with friends. I always save 10 cent from my pocket money everyday to buy Ice Pong and enjoying it under hot afternoon sun walking back home from school. I always share it with Helmi, my childhood friend because we always get back together.

I rush to the grocery store and buy 2 sticks of Ice Pong. It’s cost me 40 cent while 10 years ago, it’s just 20 cent. So, I eat that Ice Pong on my way back home. The taste is just the same as 10 years ago but something is different now. I couldn’t pin point what or why eating Ice Pong now different from last time I ate it.


Like divine intervention, some thoughts struck my mind. I realize what the different between now and then.


Last time I ate it, I ate it with Helmi. Eventhough I only get half of it, Helmi and I enjoying it so much. The cold, sugary with little acidic Ice Pong get into my mouth and go down through my throat. We were enjoying our time as we talk about school, laughing at our own stupidity along the way home. Money saves from money pocket in order to enjoy Ice Pong last time really mean something big to me. I only get 20 cent pocket money from my dad during that time.


But now, I could buy as much Ice Pong as I want. I even could buy the whole box of Ice Pong if I want to. I could afford it. But the feeling is different. There are no more Helmi beside me to talk about how beautiful our child time, how naïve and stupid we could be during that time, how I have monster crush on Aliya, how we horrified over dentist appointment at school, how we skip sekolah agama lesson to watch Maskman and Flashman and many more small talks.


I chuckles myself. It’s different because there are no more Helmi, no more our small talks, no more hot afternoon sun, no more save my pocket money, no more child stupidity to laugh about. God, I missed the old days.


Without I realize, I already finished the first Ice Pong. I still got another one, and the memories of old days keep flowing in my mind like no end. I missed the old stupid and naïve days. I missed talking to Helmi. I missed the hot afternoon sun. Gosh, I missed the old Ice Pong.


-the end-

Previous short story:
He is not a gigolo.Ooooo now I know.
Next short story:
At Your Funeral

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about the writer


An IT practitioner by education, a planner by profession, a dreamer by nature. Im a contradiction of myself. Dont ask me to explain that. Savvy?
mangifera | Add mangifera as friend | Send message to mangifera

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