The flames licked the papers until they became a bright orange burning mass, scorching the air around us with its oppressive heat.
A stray gust of wind stirred the burning ashes up swirling them around until like falling grey snow, they settled everywhere, onto our clothes and hair.
We stood there looking until everything that we had burnt became nothing more than charred black debris, then we left.
It is that time of the year again, when the gates are opened for the dead to roam around us for a month.
I do not know if you are amongst the roaming 'crowd', much less if you receive the items that we burn for you. But I don't think too much into it as the dutiful daughter in me calls out.
Just earlier on, we had picked out joss papers, clothes, shoes and other 'necessities' and had them packed into a package for you. The one that we had just burnt.
And if this was your death anniversary, I would have been more extravagant, 'sending' you paper cars, massage chairs, majong sets and the latest phone models like I had over the previous years.
The burning of such offerings may be a ridiculous notion to some. But to me, it is a tradition that I was brought up with, and a belief that I am somehow, able to continue providing for you even after you have passed on.
I wondered if you have received the items, and if they were intact.
I wondered how you were, and wistfully thought about the times when you were still with us.
I wondered if you were proud of my achievements over these past nine years, and if you knew you were now a grandfather.
I wondered if the act of burning these offerings was actually a form of solace for myself instead of you. That it was a way I could continue linking with you, even though I know that the line between us has long been broken.
Until the Lunar Seventh Month ends, the gates will be opened for another week more or so. Yet, in anticipation of the Mooncake festival, lanterns and mooncakes of all sorts have already been hung out in shops at full blast since weeks earlier.
Life, in its usual self-preserving mode, wastes no time in hurtling itself towards the next festivities.
And like the many others rushing past me towards their next destination, I too have to move onwards in life.
But in the midst of my progress, I also try to slow down my footsteps, making the effort to appreciate the little things in life before it gets mowed down by the passage of time. Till then, all that we will be left will be nothing but cherished memories in our hearts.
You are dearly missed, Pa.
Wherever you may be in this space of time, I hope that you are well.
