The lanterns swayed in the subtle breeze, each conducting their own special serenade to the heavens above me. Sweet breath of warm candle kindling within their paper souls reassured me of answered prayers.
A smile bloomed on my face.
My wooden sandals clicked as I took teensy steps onward the dusty pavement, careful not to tear my kimono. It certainly was a sight to behold in this dark starless night! Seeing those charming little paper lanterns aligned in the lonesome recesses of the battered old mural wall facing this wash-out town, made me smile. Gorgeous, simple things...
Tempted to reach out and touch them, I kept myself restrained from feeling their foreign silky texture and warmth no matter how badly I wanted to. Precious joys in life such a lighted lanterns in the dark world I lived in were considered divine to me. What if it disappears under my touch? Turns into dust.... becomes unclean from the grime on my hands I am yet to wash? I wouldn't risk it.
So I walked.
People passed by, busy and uninterested to the glowing apparition before them, oblivious to its beauty. The whole place reeked of shady deals, old men, prostitution bars, beer, and sin. I couldn't help but pity how misplaced the paper lanterns must have looked in the midst of this landmark of immorality. The paper lanterns must have felt agitated, swaying faster as zephyr herded the filthy air from them, begging for people to look at them for even a wink. I felt my heart sink but what am I to do?
Clack Clack Clack CLACK
I stopped in my tracks, tired of my own pondering and the repulsiveness of this dreaded town. What lay beyond me... That's not where I wanted to be--or become. The world I lived in was repetition of human barbarianism: a ruthless sonnet to the blind dreamer with his sleepy eyes lost in a delusional vision of iniquity. I wish I could invoke wakefulness to those sleeping eyes! Oh, How I wish I could peel of their blindfolds so that they could be made aware of the results of their indulgence: foolishness , imbecility, madness, and anarchy...
I hoped for light.
A blast of wind greeted me suddenly despite the hush, brushing the unruly strands of midnight off my face, caressing my painted cheek, urging me to look back. Heedful of my wooden soles and finespun drapery, I turned slowly.
I saw them--the beggars. I tried to veer away from the lamentable sight but the wind refused to unhand me from its counsel. These beggars... they were people who denied the town's impetuous ways, they were people who envisioned a better tomorrow for Japanese society, who fought for rights, stood 'til dusk 'til dawn to protest against the malignant regime yet they sit here, dying, starving, with hardly a grain of rice to fill their hollow bellies, rotting away, forgotten. Nonetheless,they accepted their fate, to pick from beggar or death, no matter how unfair and bitter it may be.
I was one of those people.
But now I've rotted the worst way possible... Worse than being hungry every single day, or dying from tuberculosis...
...I lived with only life's luxuries. I had four course meals every single day, traveled all over the country without my shoes getting a speck of dust on them, wore only the finest of expensive couture, drank water from the springs of the mountains. Although these are wonderful things, the price it took cannot suffice.
I became a harlot to save myself becoming like those beggars.
I was only 14.
I was a coward.
I am a coward.
~
The prick of strings reverberated in the streets. Long nails unsheathed from long blue sleeves gliding across the instrument's strings, calmly, casually, like Koi fish in a stream. The sound was gentle as a butterfly's wing beat. It was a lovely song about cherubs picking flower petals for the gods.. So sincere... I could hear the lick of shamisen strings against sharp nail picks. Each prick sent a puff of cold air to be offered to the sky, but the song in contrast held tenderness.
The instrumentalist was an elderly male beggar. He sang along to his solemn hymn as people past him by, deaf to his magical euphony. He didn't mind. He seemed... happy..
~and the cherryblossoms greet the new day. the goddess will sing of her thanksgiving to the all-knowing sky~
The wind prompted me forward--A kiss of flower petals lead me there....
But the white paint that masked my face has already melted.
The lanterns swayed in the subtle breeze, each conducting their own special serenade to the heavens above me. Sweet breath of warm candle kindling within their paper souls reassured me of answered prayers.
Something my soul understood.
The beggars were cozy under the light of the little paper lanterns. It provided them with a chance to live. I see them using the fire to cook food, I see them laugh, smile, making merriment and noise. Beggar children and their families huddled next to each other under the lanterns to share stories or sleep. There was no hunger, pain, or anguish under this light. This moment was of utter peace and happiness, happiness I never known can exist in the dark depths of scrutiny... There was no unrelenting past, no horrible memories, or fear.
Just warmth.
They caught me staring and beckoned to me. I dried my tears and nearly hid but every single one of them were grinning, waiting for me to join them. The man on the shamisen stood up "Join us Rimiko!" , he called out with his hand outstretched. The moment I took his hand, my fears begun to unwind its grasp of me. My hesitation just flew out the window. My fears no longer shackled me, I was back to me. The 'me' I gave up on so long ago, the 'me' that was utterly, unquestionably happy. With this feeling... This feeling of being blessed by life's brilliance...
A smile bloomed on my face.
