Tilted memories

Has someone pulled me back and let me into the land of memories? The bells rang from somewhere far away with immense melodies. I let myself fall into a golden sunny sky. So the sun has had time to be golden even though a life seems to have not had time to be peaceful.

I don't know why the dream of getting lost in strange countrysides keeps repeating itself every night. I'm anxious even in my dreams. The hurried cars abandon me! The roads also abandon me. I'm bewildered, lost in a season of love that has gone and will never return, even though outside the rain and sunshine are still quietly changing seasons. In my dreams, there is a winding, deserted dike, there are unsteady footsteps looking for a place to wash away my sorrows. There is a garden with rain falling on the gourd and squash vines, a shaky shadow looking for shelter under the eaves of a house waiting for a shivering rain to pass...

-Illustration: LE DUY

The changing seasons have a slanted sunlight that takes me back to my childhood with the ancient mossy village school porch. After school in the afternoon, it suddenly rains. The unseasonal rain wets a vast deserted road, the porches are wide enough but there is no place for me to hide... The distant tango echoes from the watery eyes. The first rain of the season freezes the newly sprouted bamboo shoots. The sun and rain pass so that one day they become strong bamboo stalks, stretching out in the storm. Quietly protecting themselves, sheltering themselves to go through everything...

Peaceful childhood passed. There were long nights not daring to sleep, listening to the wind blowing on the thatched roof outside. The mud walls were soaked with rain, and the rain splashed onto the place where I was lying. At night, I lay counting the rain so that tomorrow morning I could walk on the flooded road, walking to school with my lips trembling from the cold and feeling sorry for someone carrying a heavy burden on their shoulders. Now standing in the middle of the city, I feel more sorry for the drops of sweat that are salty enough, enough to soak up a lifetime of hardship to get my child through the sunny days... I am always tormented because it seems that after more than half of my life, I still have not been able to learn the sweet word of love. Can the rain of that day connect with the present sky so that the seasons of love are no longer lost and lonely...

The street this afternoon is both familiar and strange. The street whispers to remind of the footsteps that passed by, reminds of the tearful farewells and promises. The street reminds of someone's restlessness when looking at the sky about to rain and afraid that I will forget to bring my blue umbrella with me... I have chosen to stay with the familiar little corners to let someone walk on all paths. Which season is the season of love... the season of longing... the season of forgetting... How many times have I cleaned up and put everything away in a deep corner of my heart. But then I don't know how many times I have wavered on the street, quietly watching the flow of people passing by quickly. Then suddenly reaching out to hold my hand on the journey that is still full of ups and downs. The gentle afternoon helps me hide the tears of sadness that fall.

Like the four seasons of sunshine and rain pouring down on this place, the nostalgia sways every time the seasons change on the street. It is still the same feeling, every time I wander in the vastness of sunshine and wind, the sun falls behind me and the cool green color appears in front. The feeling of peace comes flooding back. The sweet memories give me more confidence to continue on the long journey ahead. Peaceful like every time I return to my childhood. There is the moss-covered porch of the village school over the years, there is a red fire in the kitchen on rainy days, there is a peaceful country lane every noon where folk songs and the sweet sound of hammocks are heard. There is a whole sky of longing, I wonder when it will fade away...

Phuong Ngoc

Source: https://baoquangtri.vn/chao-nghieng-noi-nho-193383.htm