homecoming
Genre: original
Rated: G
Started: 07.23.2005
Ended: 08.22.2005
Author's Note: This is inspired by a trip to a temple that I took when I was with my aunt. Since she is Buddhist, she went to a shrine and prayed and then took me to see all the graves of the people that decided to buy a spot there. Since the highway to Yuen Long was right next to it, it was quite the contrast between modernity and antiquity.
Summary: Eyes searching until she found what she wanted, fingers played with the zipper of the purse as she walked on. Her shoes clicked against the hard, cold tiles as she visually leafed through the names.
---------------------------------------------------------
Legend told her once that if she wanted to return to her roots, the blood in her veins would guide her home.
What a joke that was.
With the slam of the car door, she turned and watched as her cousin drove off into the sea of cars, making his way to work. The car ride had been cold enough to preserve ice cubes, the occupants exchanging words only when it was neccessary. One thought the other was too modern while the other thought that the former was too uptight. Another trace of the land of the ancients sinking into the ocean of modernization.
The rocks crunched under her heels as she walked down the winding path to the opening of the circular gate. Stepping carefully, she approached the large red building that laid to the right of her, entering the garden; the guardian of the resting spirits in the building behind it.
The two towers stood menancingly as she approached them, defiant with each stride. The drum hang still inside one, promising not to sound as if she was an intruder in a house where everyone slept. The cymbal remained silent, choosing not to scream upon her presense. They approved of her entrance.
In the center of the garden was a large fountain, a bowl of water as shoots of lotus leaves sprung forth, wrapping around the rock that sat in the center as its foundation. A true symbol of the elements. Clasping her hands together before the burning altar, she closed her eyes before opening them again and walking past the fountain.
Leaving the roaring of the engines of the cars and buses that zipped past the oasis of culture, she took a step onto the concrete stair. Another step back into the past. Another step away from reality. The sounds of the priestess' chants filled in the silence of the air as birds fluttered to the next branch. Plaques of the souls that found its refuge here decorated the walls while the floor was littered with paper possessions, waiting to be burned so that the dead could use them in the afterlife.
She never believed any of this.
Eyes searching until she found what she wanted, fingers played with the zipper of the purse as she walked on. Her shoes clicked against the hard, cold tiles as she visually leafed through the names.
Chan, Cheng, Zhang, Tsui…
There it was. Hanging from the top row, proudly displaying the name of its owner. Aunt. The hand reaching for the incense as the other grabbed the lighter she kept in her breast pocket and with a flick of the wrist, she lit the three sticks. Clasping her hand together with incense in hand after she closed her eyes, she bowed once, clapped twice and bowed twice. With the gesuture of respect, she opened her eyes and stuck the sticks into the jar below the placard. A sign that the spirit was not forgotten and that the live protected her resting place as she guarded them in death.
She had sworn off all traditions three years ago, when that happened, but this wasn’t related to them. This is for her. For her cousin, who was sick in bed and unable to come to pay respects to his mother. Taking a step back, she fished her purse for a cigarette, lighter sparking it to life as she inhaled the dark smoke before exhaling, her body slumped as she leaned against the red wall.
I’m here to see you, how are you today ?
---- end of homecoming
Rated: G
Started: 07.23.2005
Ended: 08.22.2005
Author's Note: This is inspired by a trip to a temple that I took when I was with my aunt. Since she is Buddhist, she went to a shrine and prayed and then took me to see all the graves of the people that decided to buy a spot there. Since the highway to Yuen Long was right next to it, it was quite the contrast between modernity and antiquity.
Summary: Eyes searching until she found what she wanted, fingers played with the zipper of the purse as she walked on. Her shoes clicked against the hard, cold tiles as she visually leafed through the names.
---------------------------------------------------------
Legend told her once that if she wanted to return to her roots, the blood in her veins would guide her home.
What a joke that was.
With the slam of the car door, she turned and watched as her cousin drove off into the sea of cars, making his way to work. The car ride had been cold enough to preserve ice cubes, the occupants exchanging words only when it was neccessary. One thought the other was too modern while the other thought that the former was too uptight. Another trace of the land of the ancients sinking into the ocean of modernization.
The rocks crunched under her heels as she walked down the winding path to the opening of the circular gate. Stepping carefully, she approached the large red building that laid to the right of her, entering the garden; the guardian of the resting spirits in the building behind it.
The two towers stood menancingly as she approached them, defiant with each stride. The drum hang still inside one, promising not to sound as if she was an intruder in a house where everyone slept. The cymbal remained silent, choosing not to scream upon her presense. They approved of her entrance.
In the center of the garden was a large fountain, a bowl of water as shoots of lotus leaves sprung forth, wrapping around the rock that sat in the center as its foundation. A true symbol of the elements. Clasping her hands together before the burning altar, she closed her eyes before opening them again and walking past the fountain.
Leaving the roaring of the engines of the cars and buses that zipped past the oasis of culture, she took a step onto the concrete stair. Another step back into the past. Another step away from reality. The sounds of the priestess' chants filled in the silence of the air as birds fluttered to the next branch. Plaques of the souls that found its refuge here decorated the walls while the floor was littered with paper possessions, waiting to be burned so that the dead could use them in the afterlife.
She never believed any of this.
Eyes searching until she found what she wanted, fingers played with the zipper of the purse as she walked on. Her shoes clicked against the hard, cold tiles as she visually leafed through the names.
Chan, Cheng, Zhang, Tsui…
There it was. Hanging from the top row, proudly displaying the name of its owner. Aunt. The hand reaching for the incense as the other grabbed the lighter she kept in her breast pocket and with a flick of the wrist, she lit the three sticks. Clasping her hand together with incense in hand after she closed her eyes, she bowed once, clapped twice and bowed twice. With the gesuture of respect, she opened her eyes and stuck the sticks into the jar below the placard. A sign that the spirit was not forgotten and that the live protected her resting place as she guarded them in death.
She had sworn off all traditions three years ago, when that happened, but this wasn’t related to them. This is for her. For her cousin, who was sick in bed and unable to come to pay respects to his mother. Taking a step back, she fished her purse for a cigarette, lighter sparking it to life as she inhaled the dark smoke before exhaling, her body slumped as she leaned against the red wall.
I’m here to see you, how are you today ?
---- end of homecoming