The Television
When I was a child, my family lived in my father's official residence. He was a head of a subdistrict in Central Java, Indonesia. The house is fully equipped. There was even a television. A TV that worked with an accumulator, because at the time, the electricity was not there yet. We were one of the very few families in the city who had a TV. A luxury in the early 1980s.
Every afternoon, neighbors came to our house to watch the only existing channel at the time, a state owned channel, which started at 4:30 p.m. until around 5:30 p.m. when it is time for evening prayer. Sometimes they also came later on weekends when there is a good film or for soccer games. When my parents haven't come home yet from work (my mom was a university lecturer), it was I who received our neighbors and turned on the TV. And it was quite often. One day I was in a bad mood. My parents were late again. I absolutely didn't want to see people at my house. I wanted to watch TV alone. Or only with my family (who were late!). But I couldn’t just send my neighbors away! So I reduced the brightness of the TV to the lowest, and I muted the volume of the sound. When people arrived, I told them that the TV was broken! I even showed them by turning on the TV! I didn’t remember the details. I was not even 5 years old back then! All I remember is that my neighbours didn’t even insist. And when I saw how they left my house with disappointed looks, I felt guilt and shame. So I went into my bedroom and didn’t go out anymore all afternoon. Even when my parents finally came home, I stayed inside and chose to skip my dinner...
(I submitted this story for the 1st peer-graded assignment of MOOC Writing for Young Readers: Opening the Treasure Chest on Coursera.)
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