It was a sunny Saturday morning and the sun spilled its bright yellow color onto the burnt-orange roof, which peeked out of the layers of trees. My family was paying our usual weekend visit to my grandma. This is the weekend, and I still need to wake up at 7 a.m. What kind of life is this? As we slowly made our way into the mountain, I began seeing the four red pillars gradually ascending into my vision. The bright red arms were holding the roof up high into the air. The grand edifice that sternly stood in the middle of the mountain finally appeared as my dad drove into the driveway. This was going to be another long morning.
My father dropped my mother and me off to park his car. As I stepped out of the car, the mix of fresh morning breeze and the hint of warmth from the welcoming sun summoned the familiar Goosebumps. Why is the weather up here always like this? As I walked up the never-ending steps towards the gigantic entrance, I slowly hid away the tired boy who did not want to be here. It was an early morning, but there were already a lot of people. Kids were running around outside of the entrance, and adults were chattering amongst one another. As I took off my black Converse, I looked up at my mother. Her facial expression was very serious and her eyes were filled with respect. She bowed deeply at the entrance and entered. I, too, bowed deeply and followed her footsteps.
As I entered, the hint of warmth disappeared, only leaving behind the dark chills. No lights dared to peek in, and no sounds dared to whisper. While my eyes were still adjusting to the deprivation of light, golden sparkles of reflection managed to make their way into my pupils. It was these molecules of gold that united into a magnificent form ahead of me. His body smothered with gold, his eyes lucid blue, his lips bright red. I dared not observe him more, because I was scared he would look right through me. I quickly looked up only to find 10,000 eyes looking down at me. They were of different sizes, shapes, and gender. They all had different responsibilities and were in charge of different kinds of emotions. The breathtaking scene pushed my head back down to ground level. Before I knew it, I was standing beside rows of square-shaped mattresses. The enormous entrance behind me became a tiny door. I had officially entered the other world.
As my mom and I made our way to the mattress that we chose to kneel on, I noticed other people in the room. Though it was dark, my eyes could see the different emotions surrounding me. We all contributed a piece of ourselves into this new world. This was not my first time coming here, so I automatically noticed some familiar faces. Oh, she’s here AGAIN. Wasn’t she crying the last time? This old man’s new, what is he wishing for? Various trends of thought ran through my mind, but I was no one to judge them. Just like them, I had come for more.
My mom took her position and began her spiritual journey. She kneeled, bowed her head, and then quickly stood up. She repeated this three times. The standard operating procedure, how could I forget? I quickly repeated after her. On my third kneel „n bow, my mom already began her conversation with the almighty. While I took my kneeling position to begin my conversation, I overheard a little bit of what my mother was saying.
“Please protect my mom, who's over there with you. I really miss her, but I know you are taking good care of her...” my mom said. My grandma became a nun when my grandpa passed away. She was a firm believer in Buddhism and decided she wanted to devote the rest of her life to serving Buddha. Because of my grandma‟s religion, all of my uncles and aunts from my mother‟s side were Buddhists. I, too, became a Buddhist the day I was born. My childhood memories were filled with temples, monks, and nuns. When I smell the scent of incense, my childhood automatically begins to play in my head. It‟s almost like Buddhism runs in my blood. Something you can‟t choose, but possess the day you are born.
When my grandma passed away, my parents placed her remains in a temple she loved dearly. This temple became a regular visiting site for my family. We would visit during important family reunions. We would visit during times of hardship. We would visit even during times of triumph. It almost helped in holding my family together and giving us the hope to move forward. But just like the darkness that surrounded me, sometimes I question if this belief is sucking us into a black hole of unlimited desires.
I can’t think straight with the lights off. Why do they always create this spooky feeling in here?
Ding, ding, ding. A monk walked by, ringing the bell in his hand. All my thoughts were absorbed by the bell. Then what should I wish for now? I quickly thought of something new to wish for because I never ran out of those.
Hi, Buddha, my name is Yu Chun Chen. And I am your follower. Thank you for the good life that I had in the past 13 years of my life. And I am truly grateful for that. But recently I am faced with obstacles in life. I’m applying to high schools in the States, and there is one that I really want to go to. Can you please help me? Please! I really tried so hard. I studied the best I could. PLEASE! And also, can you please give everyone I care about a good health? I don’t want any of them to run into any hardships in life. And can you please help me gain some more weight? I just really want to gain ten more pounds. Just ten more and I will be happy again. Please make me happy again.
It was a lot to wish for, but my childish mindset was that you always had to give it a shot. Who knows? Buddha might really like you.
As I finished my wish, I slowly lowered my head to the floor, stood up and bowed deeply. Though Buddha was just lying down on the ground sideways, looking at me, I felt like he was mocking me. I looked over to my mother to see if she was done. As expected, she was still murmuring rigorously, almost like telling a friend about her life for the past month. She truly believed Buddha was listening on the other end of the world. She sincerely trusted Buddha to fulfill her dreams. But at the same time she was humbly thanking Buddha for all the goodness he has done for her. I guess strong faiths take a long time to create.
I waited until my mother finally finished. She took a deep bow and walked towards a bowl of ashes, which sat in front of Buddha. My mom once again took out the indefinite shape of my childhood that was rolled into a thin long stick. She quickly lit the stick on fire and gave it to me. The scent began filling my nostril. It was the smell of hope and desires. It was the smell of my prayers ready to be taken in by the owner of the world I was in. The gold and magnificent mocking me.
So there it was. My untouchable past, present and future stuck within the ashes of hope, which stood tall and straight. It was slowly unraveling itself from the layers and layers of paper that embodied it. It was hoping to one day fulfill the dreams it had possessed from its owners, but knew that all hopes would end in ashes anyways. It was trying to stay strong, but the gentle fire was slowly nibbling away from it. As it dies out, indefinite shapes of wishes drift into the air. The hope is that it will reach the Almighty, but I know it won‟t make it. Yet I still believe.