She gave the blurry photo on the tombstone a side glance. Even though it was a blurred photo, anyone could tell it was a baby.
She stared blankly for a moment and asked, “How old is he?”
“A full gestation month old.” Maybe slightly longer.
She looked at me with her eyes still red and swollen. “Life is so short.”
I remained silent and slowly lowered my gaze onto the ground.
When I was about to leave the cemetery, the lady was still around, seemingly unwilling to leave.
She told me a story about an eight-year-old girl. That girl was born into a blissful family with her mother, father, and younger brother.
However, periods of joy tend to end with sorrow. A disaster occurred and took her father away. Her mother was unable to withstand the pain, so she brought along her brother and remarried, leaving the girl in the care of her grandmother.
Her grandmother was a fortune teller and depended on that job for a living. She did not earn much and the girl’s presence was an added burden for her.
So, her grandmother channelled all the pain and suffering she had gone through into verbal and physical abuse. Eventually, the young girl chose to end her life in front of her father’s grave.
I found it a little weird when she told me, a stranger, the story.
Regardless, I did not wish to dwell on it.
After all, I was not a resident of Q City, and my purpose there was to visit my child.
Back at the apartment, I took a long nap and dreamt of North waving to me to bid farewell.
I woke up in tears and could no longer fall asleep.
My heart ached as the painful memories unfolded.
The following morning on my way to buy breakfast, I overheard the conversation between the steamed buns’ stall owner and her husband.
“I heard that a young lady killed herself at the cemetery last night. Such a pity,” the stall owner sighed.
“Don’t listen to those rumors blindly!” her husband exclaimed.
She raised her voice and retaliated, “I wasn’t listening blindly! I saw it on my social media feed earlier. I’m certain it’ll be on the news later. You’ll see.”
Her husband let out a deep sigh, probably assuming that she was overthinking.
They had great chemistry at work. While one packs the buns, another collects money from the customer, providing efficient service.
I saw the news of the young lady’s suicide when I returned to the apartment.
The location was eerily familiar. I gasped as they uncovered the face of the deceased.
It reminded me of the story that I heard. But… why did she choose to commit suicide?
And which role did she undertake in that story?
There was no way for me to find out. Regardless, I had no regrets. After all, I had achieved what I set out for.
There was a cemetery called Sedan on the outskirts of Q City. The people there were devoted Buddhists. I went there before, and the road there was steep. It was a sacred place, filled with countless souls that provided relief.
Some people travel into the mountains to find their peace of mind, and also to find a sense of relief.
That narrow path, with no vehicle traffic, had been flattened by countless believers. Regardless, people still went to get closer to their deities.
Donned in a red scarf, I followed the pilgrimage group and kneeled with them without chanting prayers.
Instead, I prayed for the misery and suffering to be gone through each step of the journey.
Just then, an elderly beside me who seemed to notice my awkward movements advised, “Young lady, do wear some knee guards or you’ll injure your knees.”
I looked up at the elderly, who had a pair of bright eyes and a gentle smile.
I grinned slightly in response. “It’s okay. The more pain I feel, the more burden I could lift from the deceased.”
According to Buddhism, for every kneel a mortal being makes with the deceased in mind, the greater the sense of relief.
Like what the elderly warned, the long journey had caused my knees to feel weak.
As I kneeled in front of the deities, I looked up and clasped my hands together to pray. “I pray to god for the living to live in health and for the deceased to rest in peace.”
With the sounds of the chants, I kneeled in the temple while staring at the statue of the deity. The deity had a kind face, with a pair of long and slightly upward-tilted eyes that seemed to see through all the joys and miseries of life.
Let it go!
Life is short and everything will pass. We can only gain a sense of relief by letting go.
There is nothing in this world that can’t be resolved. All the pain and miseries are just a part of life.
Legend said that the road to reincarnation was similar to the rotation of a rosary, going through each misery with the heart of tenacity and warmth, following the path of light, and leaving behind a beautiful future.
That June in A City.
It was evening when a middle-aged man from Animus Corporation brought a bunch of documents to me. “These are the documents for the Marketing Department’s use tomorrow. You might need to work overtime today.”
I nodded, paused my work, and glanced at him. “Oh, then I’m not going to the gathering tonight.”
“It’s a company gathering for all colleagues. It’s not a good idea for you to drop out of it,” he nagged.
Slightly annoyed, I let out a sigh. “I’m currently swamped by work.”
“Those documents are needed by tomorrow afternoon. You can arrange them tomorrow morning. Sienna, you have to socialize more with people,” he elaborated impatiently.
I chuckled. “Savini, I am not anti-social, nor am I trying to avoid the gathering. It’s just that I don’t like it.”
He sighed and continued nagging, “You’ve been here for almost a month. Have you chatted with any of your colleagues yet? If you really want a fresh start, you should get out and mingle!”
I paused whatever I was doing and looked at him. “What is a fresh start?”
“To meet and interact with new people. To make new friends and experience new things.”
“Alright,” I responded and nodded.
He was surprised and assumed that I agreed with his advice. “The gathering is at Oasis Hotel. Don’t be late!”
He proceeded to place an invitation card on my desk and said, “You’ll need to bring along this card with you and retrieve your number card.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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