It's almost a whole month I didn't park my car inside my uni compound... This is because it's forever no carpark spaces available in there, and I'm forced to go uphill. Parking uphill is always not vice choice as the road will actually wears out my car tyres. I cannot understand WHY there are no efforts to improve the condition. Plus, parking uphill makes me felt stupid as I have to pay RM2 to park...
"Qing Ming" Festival (清明节) is also known as tomb sweeping day. It is a day for the Chinese to remember and honor one's ancestors at grave sites. It is this day where the young and old ones pay their respects for the family members who had passed away. This is a traditional custom where almost all Chinese families will perform.
Every year on this particular time, we will travel all the way back to daddy's hometown, Segamat. When I was younger, I knew that this festival is an important one as we didn't really go back to hometown during Chinese New Year, but we never miss "Qing Ming". I've never met my grandparents (daddy's side) before. They passed away before I was born. And thus, everytime I went back, I prayed and offer joss sticks without knowing who the people in the pictures are. I remembered how resented I was to stand under the hot, bright sun, and to watch the paper money burned. I can still feel the sweat trickling down my back, and hating the long growing bushes, grasses and they are with thorns. I've never know the real meaning of "Qing Ming" until I was older. When I came to knew that the people I see only once a year are my grandparents, I was determined to remember their faces in my mind. After that, everytime when we are reaching the grave site, I'll try to squeeze my memory searching for my grandparents familiar faces. And everytime we left, I'll test myself to see if I can imagine their looks in my mind. I do feel a twinge of regret for not knowing my grandparents. Because of I only travel back to Segamat only once a year, I'm not close with my cousins from daddy's side. Very shamefully, some of them I don't even know their names. During recent years, I've been trying hard to get close with them and looking forward to travel back. I'm glad to meet them, and to have lunch with them. I'm glad that we can talk and call out each other's names. Although going back to the grave site means standing under the hot sun, it didn't bothered me a bit. What I felt most important is, to meet my grandparents, and my family members...
"Qing Ming" has become extensively important since 6 years ago, when grandpa (mummy's side) passed away. I was only 16 then. It was the first time in my life I've cried so hard, I felt breathless. That was also the first time I see a dead body in front of my eyes without feeling scared at all. All I hoped was for him to wake up and the doctor to tell us that it was a mistake. But, no matter how much we hoped for it, he didn't came alive again. It was a Friday night, Jan 24th 2003. It's only a week from Chinese New Year. Ironically, the plum flowers bloomed so beautifully, but we had to remove all decorations from the house. Things happened so fast I couldn't accept the fact that he's not here with us anymore. The Chinese has this saying which is, if an elderly passed away at the age of 80, we should give them away smiling as it's a fortune that they can lived until this age. However, I couldn't give away grandpa smiling as I'[m not prepared for him to leave us and enter another world all by himself. I didn't know why, but suddenly all memories of grandpa came back to me as I was visiting his grave site this morning.
Today, after 6 years of his absence, I can still see him sitting in his favourite rock chair, smiling contently in my mind...
Every year on this particular time, we will travel all the way back to daddy's hometown, Segamat. When I was younger, I knew that this festival is an important one as we didn't really go back to hometown during Chinese New Year, but we never miss "Qing Ming". I've never met my grandparents (daddy's side) before. They passed away before I was born. And thus, everytime I went back, I prayed and offer joss sticks without knowing who the people in the pictures are. I remembered how resented I was to stand under the hot, bright sun, and to watch the paper money burned. I can still feel the sweat trickling down my back, and hating the long growing bushes, grasses and they are with thorns. I've never know the real meaning of "Qing Ming" until I was older. When I came to knew that the people I see only once a year are my grandparents, I was determined to remember their faces in my mind. After that, everytime when we are reaching the grave site, I'll try to squeeze my memory searching for my grandparents familiar faces. And everytime we left, I'll test myself to see if I can imagine their looks in my mind. I do feel a twinge of regret for not knowing my grandparents. Because of I only travel back to Segamat only once a year, I'm not close with my cousins from daddy's side. Very shamefully, some of them I don't even know their names. During recent years, I've been trying hard to get close with them and looking forward to travel back. I'm glad to meet them, and to have lunch with them. I'm glad that we can talk and call out each other's names. Although going back to the grave site means standing under the hot sun, it didn't bothered me a bit. What I felt most important is, to meet my grandparents, and my family members...
"Qing Ming" has become extensively important since 6 years ago, when grandpa (mummy's side) passed away. I was only 16 then. It was the first time in my life I've cried so hard, I felt breathless. That was also the first time I see a dead body in front of my eyes without feeling scared at all. All I hoped was for him to wake up and the doctor to tell us that it was a mistake. But, no matter how much we hoped for it, he didn't came alive again. It was a Friday night, Jan 24th 2003. It's only a week from Chinese New Year. Ironically, the plum flowers bloomed so beautifully, but we had to remove all decorations from the house. Things happened so fast I couldn't accept the fact that he's not here with us anymore. The Chinese has this saying which is, if an elderly passed away at the age of 80, we should give them away smiling as it's a fortune that they can lived until this age. However, I couldn't give away grandpa smiling as I'[m not prepared for him to leave us and enter another world all by himself. I didn't know why, but suddenly all memories of grandpa came back to me as I was visiting his grave site this morning.
Today, after 6 years of his absence, I can still see him sitting in his favourite rock chair, smiling contently in my mind...
