Bamboo on Dirt Path, Eyes Alight.

By Flora Midori Basumatary.

“Jiejie!” At the excited voice yelling at her, she looked up from where she was trying to harpoon a fish with a makeshift bamboo pike to no avail. Sighing to herself when she saw her brother carelessly splash into the little stream while swinging around the bamboo pole, he always carried with him, she reached out her arms to catch him if he fell. “Guess what I just saw!”

“Don’t be so hasty, dìdì,” she chided softly as she watched her younger brother nearly slip on the fine pebbles that littered the bed of the stream. “What if you fall and hurt yourself?”

“Jiejie!” child screamed yet again in glee and waded towards where his sister stood, this time being more careful. “I saw Mister Dragon in my dream again!”

“Oh, did you?” she smiled and let her hand ruffle his unruly hair. Absently, she made a mental note to give him a good hair wash if she managed to get her hands on some soap. “What did Mister Dragon tell you this time?”

“He let me fly! He took me on his back and we were flying!” the little boy laughed, showing the small gap from where he’d recently lost one of his milk teeth. “We touched the clouds, Jiejie! It was so soft!”

“That’s so nice,” she laughed and began leading her brother back to the shore. “But don’t stand in the water anymore, my dìdì or your feet will get too cold.”

Hand in hand, the two siblings walked away from the stream. The pike was left behind. She sighed. They would have to go to bed with an empty stomach yet again unless the bustling and dirty little town proved luckier than the stream.

Every day the two of them had to face with the contemplation about what to fill their stomachs with. And if it wasn’t that, then looking for a roof above their heads or warmth to soothe their weary limbs with took the priority. Meanwhile children their age had fathers who earned for them either through tilling the soil or the art of the sword. She wondered if the ones who had sired them into this world even had faces.

The town did prove to be lucky in the sense that there were a few women who took pity on them and were generous to fill a little basket with meat buns and pears. Now all that was left was to search for a roof. However, luck didn’t strike twice and the siblings found themselves having to sneak and crawl into a cow shed in order to turn in.

In the dark, the boy in all his animated fervour and glazed eyes, related the story of how he met the dragon that had become a frequent visitor in his dreams once again. He described with the clearest detail about how riding on the back of a dragon felt like and how soft the clouds that slipped through the gaps between his fingers were. She listened to everything with a smile and a slight twist to her heart. Her dìdì was a very special child indeed.

Come the first light rays of morning and two pairs of young feet set off once again, dusting off the hay and lingering smell of cows. They traversed through well-trodden dirt roads and quiet green valleys carpeted with fresh grass. They bowed to passing farmers and their bullock carts or the occasional Daoshi in white robes and carrying trusted swords by their sides. The kinder ones left them with food and a couple of coins. They weren’t hard to satisfy.

All throughout the journey the little boy talked about more magical animals that visited him in his dreams when they had slumbered during the night. This time it was a Bìxíe, terrifying looking but she spoke with the kindest voice in the whole world. The little boy insisted that while they slept in the cow shed, the Bìxíe had curled up along with them too and kept watch over them. She laughed and nodded hearty agreement towards her dìdì. They travelled hand in hand, bamboo pole tapping rhythmically on the ground and sending up small puffs of dirt. They sang to the wind to be the arms of their embrace and the sky to be their ever-present roof.

She had managed to save some of the pears from the previous day and they made it their midday meal while being sat under the waving branches of the willows.

“So, dìdì,” she called with a smile as the boy turned to face her with his unfocused gaze. “Who visited you next?”

Hearing those words, the little boy’s face lit up with a toothy smile. “They say that they are a water buffalo! What is a water buffalo Jiejie? They also have a little cricket sat on their head!”

She was a little surprised when she heard her dìdì say that he had seen what could be considered a pretty normal animal in his dream next when he had never seen it before. Nevertheless, she smiled and ran her fingers through the other’s hair. “A water buffalo is like a cow, only bigger and has big horns. They also like staying in water.” She knew her descriptions made little difference but she still wanted to indulge her little brother.

“So, the cow looks like the buffalo!” the child exclaimed in his glee and she laughed along with him. Her dìdì really was special.

The cricket and the buffalo’s images bid them a silent farewell as they left the shade under the waving willow branches and continued on their way to the next town. Hand in hand. The bamboo tapping rhythmic sounds on the grassy paths. They had no names, no homes and no family and yet she couldn’t wait to lie under cherry and plum trees and welcome spring with her beloved dìdì soon.

The town they arrived to was bustling and alive. Hawkers and peddlers called out their wares in voices trying to drown the other. Girls showed off their new handmade fans and skirts and gossiped under the trees. Men sat around tables, drinking wine and gambled away their money. She tugged her dìdì closer to herself, fearing the crowd. The town wasn’t a friendly place for children like them.

A clatter and a yelp followed as a man bumped against her dìdì and knocked him down, bamboo pole skidding away from his hands.

“Watch where you are going, you little disease!” the man hollered while she ran to her frightened dìdì. “Can’t you see?”

“He can’t,” she cried out angrily, loathing to say those words. “Mister, you should be the one careful about hurting the poor when they are disadvantaged.”

“Pah, like I care,” the man spat out. “Blind folk like you should know better than walking around in such a crowded road.” And with a sweep of his robed arms, he walked away.

“Jiejie,” the little boy whispered plaintively, tears in his voice. “Jiejie, it is so dark. Why is it so dark again?”

Fighting back tears of her own, she pulled the little boy up and put the bamboo pole in his hands. His unfocused eyes gazed at her, not seeing yet seeing far beyond than anyone else. Her dìdì was special. It was the rest of the people who had their vision filled with darkness. “It’s okay dìdì. I am here,” she said firmly. “Let us go rest. Maybe Mister Dragon will visit you again.”

Hand in hand. Bamboo pole tapping rhythmic sounds on the asphalt, they walked with strength and awaited the spring light to grace them at the end of their journey.

Glossary:

Dìdì – younger brother

Jiejie – elder sister

Bìxíe – mythical creature of a lion with horns. Symbolism of warding off evil

Daoshi – Taoist priest

Dragon – symbolizes the natural world, adaptability and transformation

Willow branches – bending but not breaking

Cricket – symbolizes fighting spirit

Water buffalo – symbolizes the advent of spring time