In a bustling park, tambam is a mature woman, She is 62 with long messy hair, sits quietly on a swing, her hands loosely gripping the chains. She’s wearing a tank top and blue jeans. Adults stroll by or sit on nearby benches, their curious glances occasionally landing on her. She seems absorbed in thought, gently swaying back and forth, a calm contrast to the park’s lively backdrop. Golden sunlight filters through the trees, casting dappled shadows around her, as the murmur of laughter and conversations fills the air. It’s a hot sunny day.