A long‑buried memory, unearthed together
The curious boy
Searching for an image for my website, I stumbled on one that unlocked a long‑buried memory. Let’s unearth it together.
This journey goes back to when I was a young boy, around grade 13–14, full of curiosity. I was born in 1972. I loved painting, drawing, and all kinds of art, and later photography. I was the kind of boy who worked hard with the right side of his brain while the left side stayed lazy for calculations.
I was crazy about programming and it began at school, in the computer club, where I started with BASICA and then Quick Basic. When my first desktop arrived, it ran DOS 2.0 on an NEC V20 CPU with Hercules graphics and a 5.25‑inch floppy drive; it had 1024K of memory. At first I focused on games ‘Prince of Persia’ was one of them but after failing to rescue the princess I stopped and switched to exploring programming.
I experimented with EMS/XMS drivers to use RAM above 640K, but the tools were unreliable, so I set up a RAM disk instead. I copied small games to it, and they ran astonishingly fast like the SSD drive today. That familiar green monitor is still vivid in my mind, and I even keep the motherboard to this day.
“That was my first time ordering a computer to do what I wanted, and the feeling was so good.”
A young man in an open world
Years later, a new desktop came as I grew into a young man. Windows had just arrived and XP followed. I taught myself from local computer magazines, never missing an issue. My learning grew into Pascal, then C++, and even some basics of ASM. That same curiosity and inspiration kept me learning on my own, and later I was proud to teach Pascal to my younger brother when he joined computer science at university.
When the internet era arrived, I connected through dial‑up, that familiar tone when it started, and discovered a new world. I learned more online, met people through IRC, ICQ, MSN, and spent nights awake as if sleep was not needed.
A photograph that always stays with me
And then one photo changed me. In 2004 I found an image of a young girl, someone had drawn her as a cartoon and placed it side by side with her photo. I was impressed, though I did not know why. Maybe I loved drawing, maybe I was just beginning to be interested in computer graphics, maybe the girl was simply cute. Whatever the reason, I saved that image. Time passed quickly. I upgraded my computers many times, but that girl’s image was always backed up and carried forward to each new desktop.
A magnet, a family
As a bachelor, I often traveled alone, enjoying the quiet of those journeys. Later, after I met Napaporn, it felt like a strong magnet pulling me toward an important decision.
You never know who will be right for you, but the magnet had done its work. I cannot fully explain why I chose to leave my bachelor life behind and relocate to Pattaya with her, but everything felt right and moved smoothly.
She already had a son who needed care, and I stepped in to guide him. I taught him how to use the toilet, to wash himself, to take a bath, and even how to chew food properly. As the years went by, we felt he would need someone gentle to care for him if we were not there. That thought led us to decide on having a child, and the child should be a girl. I researched every method I could find, determined to tip the odds in our favour. Two years later she was born, a girl just as we had hoped and planned.
Our first little bunny
From the time she was one month old, our little bunny went everywhere with us, often riding on the back seat with spare clothes, diapers, milk bottles, and a collapsible cart always in the car. Even the 400‑kilometre trip to a construction site in Nakhon Sawan was part of her childhood.
She grew up helping around the house and was involved in Thepprasit Cosy 2 from the very beginning, even during the foundation work. We kept working hard to keep things running; I worked as I always had. This is my life and my promise: to keep the family comfortable, fed, and secure, and to keep the business alive through every difficulty.
News that we did not want to hear
Then signs of another bunny appeared. It was not planned, but we welcomed the idea of someone who could help our daughter care for her elder brother. The expected date was April 19. On the third visit the doctor turned to us with a serious face and gave us news we did not want to hear. I was deeply sad, and in my grief I prayed to Ganesha, asking him to keep the little one safe until the time was right and to bring him back to me when I was ready. Every night I pray for my children, and even now I still refer to that child as “the little one.”
The second chance — a quiet miracle
A year later the signs came again, this time naturally. We took careful steps from the start. The next little bunny arrived on April 22, one year and three days later. It felt like a quiet miracle, a strange kind of déjà vu. I felt as if Ganesha had answered my prayer and returned a second life to our family. Both little bunnies always ask me to pray for them before they fall asleep, and I never forget to wish the little one well.
Now the little bunnies grow up as part of the Alpha generation, carrying our long story and the resilience we have lived through. They are our little bunnies, helping around the house, learning to greet customers with a cheerful sawasdee, and growing into service‑minded, caring young people. They are the living proof of everything we have built together.