My Childhood

Many had asked in private communication as to why I seemed to be in such dedication to correct essays during my "down time" at work and yet; did not seem to ask for anything in return. Some thanked me for such "kindness".

I am sad to say that this is not entirely true.  I have my selfish reasons. The return is the countless triggerings in my mind. I do not know how the firing of my neurons would end.  However, mostly ended positively; for they inspire me both in my writing and musical composition. Sometimes, their ideas are lifted; sometimes they become slightly different gateways. This is how I am able to enter to these slightly different universes to enjoy the immense scenery there.  For this I am most grateful. 

Sometimes, they reminded me of things long forgotten, like a pile of rubbish in a dusty corner of my mind, until I espied a glint from the midst.  And; as I approached, it sparkled, scintillated and beckoning.  Then as my fingers caressed the filigrees of the light that it finally shone in its full glory.  Like a magical touch, the full realization of what it is now became clear…

Yesterday, I corrected Hoan's entry entitled "My Childhood"¹.  In it, she wrote, "I often played a game of skill with sticks and a ball…"  Given my experience and not knowing the Vietnamese culture, I almost wanted to correct it to "hockey".  On a second thought, it is most probably not what she had in mind.  Finally, I changed it to "I often played skillfully with ball and sticks…".  Hoan wrote privately and sent a video link² to explain this traditional Vietnamese game, called Chơi chuyền.  

Upon looking at the video, I at once realized that it is a variation of "Pickup sticks" game but with the inclusion of a ball in a game of dexterity, coordination and mental concentration.  This is my gateway to a slightly different universe.  The video is the glint and is now glowing brightly for in my mind. The filigrees of light are reaching into the dark abyss of my mind and dredging out some of my own precious childhood memories lying dormant at the bottom.

I remembered how grandmama, in order to alleviate my boredom, stopped her work at the sewing machine and called me to go into the kitchen to get her a cup of uncooked rice grains.  She told me that she had something to show me. I was excited because even as a kid, I knew she was making blanket covers from different colored rectangular scraps of cloth.  Now what do the grains of rice have anything to do with the making of a blanket?

The filigrees of light are now coalescing and glowing even more brightly as I write, remembering how this grand old lady gave her unconditional love to me.

Eons had passed in the meantime.  I have to thank Hoan's video link for this.  Thank you. For you are that light in making me think of my beloved maternal grandmother and all the hours spent telling me bedtime stories of Old China. 

Without her, I won't be what I am partly today.

And when I returned, there was a piece of rag being cut into five³ smaller triangular shapes.  My eyes grew in wide wonder as she asked for the rice grains.  There she filled them up and painstakingly sewed them into a pyramidal shape.  When she was done, she grouped them together to form a shape called the "Plum Blossom Heart" (梅花心).  There she taught me the rules of how to pick them up quickly and put them back in a different pattern.  It's an variation of Hoan's Chơi chuyền or "Jacks", "Knucklebones" or "Astralagoi" in English.  

However, I had forgotten the name she called it.  From searching on the internet, I found that it is called "Catch 7", "Pick up Gold"⁴ …

Thus my reason for correcting assiduously.

Thursday, October 10, 2013

1.  http://www.italki.com/entry/373204

2. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lJKyHeoY-mo&app=desktop

3.  The standard game has seven pieces.  However, my hands were tiny of then and she didn't want to make it too difficult for me. 

4. However, these names do not sound familiar to me.  So after consulting HK gurus from a site, its name is "Wah Tzi"  (搲子)

長安雨 - Changan Tears

流水急急,             Waters flowing hurriedly
今日春光來          Today's spring is here
明朝去.                 Gone tomorrow.

秋到泪水下更多. Autumn approaches, even more tears flow.
半边空寢,             Half the empty bed,
半边愁.                 Half the sorrow.

日落月起心思思. The sun sets, the moon rises, mired in thoughts.
人在何處?            Where is he?
歸还昔日夢.         Alas but to return to the dreams of old.

流水速速,             Fast waters,
往東遊.                 Wandering towards the east.
花落葉飛.              Blossoms fell, leaves in flight.
辜負丹心念.          Disappointing my sincere thoughts.
扭轉乾坤有何用?  Of what use to turn Heaven and Earth upside down?
追回舊影一場空.   Futility in chasing dreams of old.

一樹梨花壓海棠1, A treeful of pear blossoms weighing down upon the begonias.
半天楓葉伴明月.   Half the sky drowned in maple leaves accompanying the bright moon.

1. Without going into the nifty details of the allusion, figuratively it means an older man taking a much younger bride. The white pear blossoms refer to the whiteness of the groom and begonias, the redness of youth of the bride.

Sunday, October 07, 2013

Today is Thursday, June 05, 2025.  Like the first line of this poem, time has floweth too fast, almost 12 years had passed like a twinkle of an eye.  Here's an update of the poem.  I hoped that during this days gone by had been fruitful to see progress evolved.  Here' the updated version...

01 流水急急流滾滾      Hurried are the flowing waters, flowing in turmoil

02 今刻春光明朝去      Spring of today, gone tomorrow.

03 秋來淚更多               Autumn cometh with even more tears,

04 半邊寢空半邊愁      Half bed empty, half side sorrow.

05 日落月沉思萬緒      The sun is setting, the moon sinking - with thoughts of myriad emotions.

06 人何處?人何處?      Where is he?  Where is he?

07 難歸昔日夢               'tis difficult returning to dreams of old!

08 水流遠遠水遙遙      Waters floweth far away, waters so distant,

09 飛花落葉往東遊      Flowers in flight, leaves a falling, towards the east they wandered,

10 可憐丹心負               Pity this betrayed sincere heart!

11 還我舊時還我醉      Return my former times, bring my stupor back!

12 扭轉乾坤移星辰      Even turning Heavens and Earth topsy-turvy, constellations transforme

13 又何用?  又何用?    Of what use is then?  Of what use is then?

14 追回舊影空               Shadows of old chased back, but still in emptines.

15 一樹梨花壓海棠      A tree of pear blossoms pressing down upon the begonia,

16 半天楓葉伴枯情      Half the sky of maple leaves accompanying withered love.

17 長安一夜雨聲多      One night in the City of Eternal Peace - too much clangor from the rain,

18 冥府無日雷音細      Nary a day passes in Hades - too faint a sound from salvation!

01 Flowing water denotes time passing too quickly.

02 Reminiscent of Po Chu I's poem, 來如春夢不多時, 去似朝雲無覓處 - about his dalliance with a courtesan.

03 This line is intentionally structured to be a short bust to break the monotony and rhythm of the many long lines in the poem.

05 "thoughts of myriad emotuions" is a suggestion from ChatGPT which I thought was superior than my original.  Have to admit, the program is far from perfect but once in a while, upon hitting the right spot, a job well done.

06 人 is more gender neutral than 君 to reflect modern standards of inclusive diversity.  Use of repetition to reinforce the weight of the very short line of having three characters.

08 I wanted the second stanza to be mirrored but at the same time, some variation to break any monotony caused by this. 

09 Due to the geography of China, rivers always flow toward the east.  "wander" was chosen over "flow" as I like to limit repetition of characters to a minimum.  Rather than using the old trope, this word connotates "aimlessly" blown by the wind to reach their conclusion.  Flowers are seen as youth soaring to the heavens while the aged like leaves, fall to the ground.

10 The mirroring effect from line 3.

11 The idea of this line comes from ChatGPT for something else.  I thought that this fits well here and shamelessly appropriated it. 

12 移 means "moved" but it lacks power and "transformed" is used.

13 The mirroring effect from line 6.

15 海棠 is technically the Chinese crabapple but is too wordy and so begonia is used.  Pear blossoms are white - hence white haired.  Begonias can be red, to denote youthful bloom in the face.  This line comes from an allusion about Su Dong Po's retort to his 81-year-old teacher on marrying an 18-year-old girl when the teacher wrote a poem boasting of his manliness.

https://jeffinous.blogspot.com/2014/05/lolita.html

16 An attempt to form a couplet.  Red withered maple leaves flying in autumn to suggest aged days and therefore can be translated as "aged days, withered love" but this results in the loss of original imagery, an iteration to line 9.

17 Changan, the City of Eternal Peace is used as a symbol of past grandeur since it was the most magnificient city in all of Chinese history.  It's imperial palace is about 6.7 times larger than the Forbidden CIty in Peking.  Rain symbolizes tears.

18 Another attempt to form a second couplet.  冥 means "dark" and 府 means "seat of government" i.e. purgatory.  "Thunder sound" refers to the "quiet" roar" of Buddhist chants, hence signifying salvation.  聲 means sounds coming from upper regions such as the sky while 音 are those made on the lower regions such as the earth or hades etc.  Thus,  聲音 means all sounds.  Hence we have word combinations like 風聲 but never 風音.  However, there are exceptions such as 歌聲 to mean earthly songs so mellifluous that they came from the celestial world.

Wednesday, June 4, 2025 

A Belated Mid-Autumn Party

This short essay is for my foreign friends from italki who are curious about my

belated Mid-Autumn Party.  This year, the Lantern Festival falls on a Thursday.  Unfortunately, it is not a public holiday for everyone and so no choice but to have a belated celebration on  the following Saturday.  I had invited over a hundred people but thank goodness not everyone showed up at the same time, otherwise my place would be a wee bit overcrowded.

For those interested how a typical U.S. West Coast lifestyle is like, especially in Los Angeles, we love to entertain in our homes.  It does not matter if your place is huge or not.  I always say, you can always entertain a few close friends even in a closet.  Others say, they live with their parents, so I countered, what's wrong with inviting your family to join in the fun?  If they don't like it, they can go and watch a double-feature movie in the theatres or just sneak into another one.  Others would give me cultural reasons not to.  To me, it is just an excuse.  For me, to entertain in one's home is to show your warmth and sincerity.

What you see in the movies are either the super-rich or celebrities throwing lavish parties to impress or to get connections.  In the ordinary lives of us mere mortals, the most common thing to do is a potluck.  This won't put a strain on the host and there will always a great variety of food, dessert and drinks for all to enjoy.  My party started at 1 p.m., we did a potluck lunch with people bringing Chinese BBQ meats, Jewish quiches, sushi, Indian samosas, lamb bryani and American staples like baked beans and corn on the cob.  Even though I don't drink, there is always plenty of wine and beer flowing around. There is only a friend in the entire group who normally brings hard liquor such as vodka, whiskey etc.  Of course, the Asian group preferred hot Chinese tea and most would  gyrate towards coffee of any kind.  There was so much to eat that we didn't have to go out or have takeout food in the evening.

As night fell, more friends arrived.  The fire pit was fired up and people gathered around it like a bunch of moths circling a light.  As the social atmosphere began to mellow, everyone started enjoying the warmth and conversations became more interesting.  I'm just being nice.  Nothing is more salacious than gossip about people you know!  That is what makes any party swing.  This time around, plenty of people brought dessert.  This was what I told them to bring if they intended to come later in the evening.  However, they were free to choose whatever their favorites were.  There was a symbolic gesture of a small box of moon cake.  After all this is its festival namesake.  Not many people like to eat them anyway.

My new toy, the fire pit, was the main hit at the party, followed closely by another group with musical talents.  They crowded around the piano.  People sang and people played.  Drinks continued to flow unceasingly and everyone had a great time.  Thank goodness, my neighbours were also having their parties, albeit not for the same reason.  So everyone is not worried about someone calling the police because of the loud noises that the neighbourhood is making.  Of course, I was making the most noise.  My voice boomed into the night to ensure that everything is picture perfect.  I had to make sure that everyone felt welcome and had enough to eat but not too much drinking!  This is because drunk driving is a serious offence in California and also I don't want my friends to get hurt or get into trouble.

Finally by midnight, most had left.  However a few close friends remained and we sat winding down by the fire pit for some quiet exchanges.  By now the autumn moon had risen high up into the sky and over the obstructed bamboo skyline.   The place was still and a gentle breeze rose, sweeping the flames of the fire pit.  We gazed into the fire as we were mesmerized by the flickering tongues of the flames.  Each of us rocking in our chairs in different tempos as different thoughts were marching in our minds.  One of us suddenly recited,

金風梳月影, The golden breeze brushing the shadows of the moon,

玉露點秋香. Jade dew touching the fragrance of autumn.

月明心緒寧, The moon is bright and my mood is at ease,

徘徊昨夜夢. Lingering in dreams of last night.

I see someone was in his poetic mood. On the surface, the poem is innocuous as can be.  The "golden breeze" and "jade dew" are symbols of autumn; a poem describing an autumn scene with the poet's feelings.  After a while in deep thought, I began to suspect something is amiss.  "Autumn fragrance" can also be a name of a girl, especially the name of maid in this traditional Chinese story (唐伯虎點秋香) of how a flirty scholar is trying to seduce her.  Oh ho!  Crouched in poetic imagery, is my friend trying to brag about his last night's conquest?

But before I could go further, another chimed in a poem of his own.

春風笑少年, The spring breeze laughing at youth

夏花無限嬌. Unlimited is the beauty of summer flowers.

秋雪豈能有, How can there be snow in autumn?

冬月醉長夜. The winter's moon, drunk in the night.

今宵百花樓, Tonight at the House of Hundred Blooms,

明日水東流. Gone tomorrow, like the waters flowing east.

For a long time, there was silence in the air except the creaking of the rockers.  For a long time I wondered why the mood had changed even though I detected a euphemism of brothel in the last poem.  Finally 2 a.m. approached and everyone started to get up giving the excuse that it was time to part and thanked me for a wonderful party.  I was tired too and called it a night.  The next day, I recalled last night's poems and began to write them down.  As I was translating the poem, suddenly from the written form, I found the answer to my last night's question. 

Reading the first two columns from left to right and from the top to bottom, the characters from the first four lines form two Chinese phrases, "Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter" and "Wind, Flower, Snow Moon".  The first phrase is just a description of the seasons of the year but in Chinese can symbolically mean the four stages of a person's life; his youth, his peak, his declining years and his final days.  The second phrase originally meant the poetic beauty of nature.  However, now degenerates to a description of having a dissolute life of wine and women! 

No wonder last night's atmosphere abruptly changed.  I am sure one of my friend was laughing at the age of the bragger.  I guess those two won't be seeing each other for quite a while. 

Jeff, Jeff, Jeff… You are too slow in catching on things of this calibre.  Now you know the reason of this notebook entry.

A Lament On A Mid-Autumn Festival

Thursday, September 19, 2013

As of this writing, it is about 11pm on a Thursday night.  The autumn moon is hanging brightly  above a cloudless sky of Los Angeles which I call home.  Since this is the US, unfortunately, there is no holiday for us.  I envy the long weekend holidays in those countries that officially celebrate this delightful festival known also as the "Lantern Festival".

It doesn't matter. I'm going to play hookie tomorrow and follow Hong Kong's example.  This is my third entry on this festival since I joined italki.  How time flies.  Unlike the past two years, there was no gathering on this actual day of the festival.  Just all by myself, treating myself to something good under the bamboos and viewing the bright circular orb up in the cloudless sky.

My memories harkened me back to my days of old; with lanterns in our hands, my siblings and I would explore the darkness within the safety confines of our garden.  It was one of the rare occasions that we were allowed to venture out into the night and not having to go to bed at the appointed hour; to which we thought, was ridiculously early.  In the daytime, the large garden (to our eyes) was a friend but in the night, a scary stranger and yet we could not resist. In trepidation, we surged onwards into the darkness. And yet we hoped that some monster would jump out at us and frightened the shit out of us!  Yes, those were the simple thrills of childhood.

Then, inevitably, sometime into our foraging, one of us would trip and the  lantern caught fire from the lighted candles within.  This was our biggest thrill of the night since no monster had ever come out.  Of course the one whose lantern now laid in ashes would be in tears.  Our rambunctious actions would cause a faraway shout from grandmama telling us to be quiet as she prepared the table with offerings to the moon and its inhabitants.  She had cooked a special dish of conches or some kind of shellfish with spiral shells.  Of course, I would never eat such strange looking stuff.  The feast will begin just after midnight.  Mother would be the ever dutiful wife managing my father's activities with his buddies or with the relatives and keeping an eye on things in the front.  Not to mention is there was the ever present sound of mahjong tiles with an occasional cry from the winning woman or curses from the losers.  Not to be outdone, the men too have their act in their poker games. 

Such is the life of a mid-autumn festival of the yesteryears.  As a matter of fact, it is the same for all festivals with the adults.  Us, the children just have to invent more imaginative games to entertain ourselves.  It was a good time when the huge clan would descend and congregate at Grandfather's house.  Cousins were like strangers whom we knew by face.  Even though we lived in the same town but because of different schools we attended, we hardly ever saw each other except during these clan festivities.  When Grandfather was alive, all have to make obeisance and the mandatory pilgrimage to the ancestral house.

Most of the people in my memories, well, are now just memories.  Some had gone to the great beyond, others no longer in touch; for our clan is as factious as China's Age of Warring States.  When the grandparents had moved on, the later generations no longer saw the need of such gatherings anymore.  No more emperor to please, for each is now a warlord of his own realm.  Sad isn't it?  As for my siblings, some had married and now we lived in different cities.  Though we are close, some are technophobic and even refused to be on Facebook.

Anyway, here I am by myself.  My good buddies?  Some are back in their ancestral countries; some on business and others don't have the courage as I did to play hookie.  Alone? Yes, physically but not so mentally; for memories are good companions.  They lull, they cajole and even play tricks on your mind.

The wind is cool but my body is comfortably warm as I have been sipping hot Chinese tea by myself. Rocking back and forth on my deckchair, in sway and nostalgia, I view the moon with a different frame of mind tonight.  In some ways both of us are the same.  One high above in the sky and nary a cloud to be seen and the other, someone far down on this earth, surrounded by quietude but with one half empty pot of hot tea...

Out from the dusty corridors of my mind, I hear the voice of grandmama relating the lunar tales of yore.  How the Fairy Chang-O went to live on the moon.  Then there is the immortal woodcutter forever chopping down a self-healing osmanthus tree.  With each blow at the tree, the wound would recover immediately.  Like Sisyphus, he was punished for his hubris or laziness.  Let us not forget too, the other lunar inhabitants in the form of the Jade Rabbit and the Three-Legged Toad.  Thank you grandmama, for you have enriched my life by telling me all these and other wonderful tales.  You have opened my imagination and let me enter into a world of splendiferous beings.

Then I espied on the tin cover of the moon cake packaging, there in her bosom, was Chang-O's Jade Rabbit being caressed lambently by her against the backdrop of the bright full moon.  New thoughts came flooding and replacing my memories of yesteryears and casting them back into the dusty corridors of my mind.  The moonlight was bright enough for me and with a pen, to scribble down my thoughts on a piece of paper.

竹下深坐嘗月餅,Under the bamboo, I sat deep in thought and tasting moon cakes,

風吹樹搖落英雨.The wind blows; the trees sway and flowers fall like rain.

廣寒嫦娥一仙子,In the Great Cold Palace, is the Fairy Chang-O,

懷擁玉兔非郎君.Caressing the Jade Rabbit in her bosom; no lover it can ever be.

With this, I can now tap-tap on my laptop…

Quietude

Quiet is the night.
Stillness is the wind.
I sit down knowing no one is in sight.
Perhaps a sigh, nary a thought in my mind.

心中迷 - Confused Heart

花香月影小提琴, Amidst the fragrant flowers, a moonlight shadow playing the violin,
絃聲愁過夜鶯啼. The strings sadder than a nightingale's song.
知音何時散入夢? When did the voice of my intimate friend diffuse into my dreams?
清風掃解心中迷. The gentle breeze sweeping away the knots of my confused heart.

Your Morphean World

The sun is seen no more in the horizon.  It is now quiet and peaceful; just a warm breeze caressing the tree tops. Within another hour or so, this darkening sky will turn into a vault of twinkling stars, transporting you to the land of dreams.  Like an orphan, you have no choice but to follow the voice that is beckoning you from the dark.  Slowly but surely, your eyelids began to droop and finally closed.  

The silence swirling in the darkness will bring you hope and joy.  In this Morphean world, you are neither lost nor to be found.  Until the first rays of the sun kiss you awake, releasing you from your Sleeping Beauty spell, you renew as the new day cometh presenting you new challenges and opportunities.  They await like your handmaidens. So command them well.

Based on someone's imagery.