While his parents and sister chatted with another family nearby, the boy found his own adventure among the gleaming gamelan instruments. He crept between the golden carvings, eyes wide with curiosity, a quiet grin tugging at his lips as if sharing a private joke with the room itself. Every shimmer of metal seemed to invite him closer, every gong a new hiding spot. There was no mischief in his play—just that gentle, unspoken magic of childhood, where even sacred spaces become playgrounds of imagination.