1. Makassar, twenty years ago. Eid Day -- the end of Ramadhan festivity -- had always been awaited big time, especially by children. Even schools were closed for the whole month prior to the Eid Day, the day of glory. Evening time was always paradise to children. It was the time for the toy of the month: explosives. No, nothing to do with terrorism, mind you. This is simply child's play, amid a little danger content: but who likes to play with safety? Those boys cut some bamboo trees then used the pipe as a cannon to explode some kerosene or gasoline put inside it, lid by a small fire on the other end of the pipe. It exploded with banging sound. The louder it was the happier those lads were. We competed on who could come up with the loudest cannon. We tried to be up all night, just to be able to fire our cannon at four o'clock in the morning. Yes, to wake up adults from their sleep. So they could have their sahoor on time. Wasn't it good? A ten year old boy thought it was.

2. Makassar, fifteen years ago. Some teenagers always thought that Ramadhan was the time for motor racing on the beach. Who could resist the temptation to motorskiing between cars, buses, and trucks? Ramadhan was perfect since many people broke their fast on the beach while enjoying the sunset. They were captive market. To show up our "talent" to. Of riding motorcycle at 100 kmph in a crowded traffic. The happier you were when your bike could roar very loud. Or you could simply came with glaze-machined motorcycle. Girls liked it. You would be the star. Danger is not to worry.

3. Somewhere across the ocean, thousands of miles away from Makassar. The then-ten-year-old-boy- turned-racing-teenager is now twice his adrenalin-junky age. He just learned the true meaning of Ramadhan. Now, the night of Eid Day he is contemplating. He wants to go back...

4. To fix things up. Would that be...

5. Possible?