Whenever my mother prayed to the ancestors, I always laughed at her silliness. These so-called ancestors were already dead for years and of no further use to our current generation. Sigh ... I was so deadly wrong.
Now as I get older and live in white land, I realized that I have all but lost my roots. I have no memories of my past. Whenever I looked at old photos, I realized there were so many things I was not aware of. Where did I come from? Why did I land in that fucken little island? Should I return to where I came from? Why am I a loser yellow?
Now is the time for mid-autumn festivity. I have but no one around me to share my joy and sadness. I don't feel sad but just a little melancholic. I have chosen to travel this path alone and I alone only can resolve its pain and joy.
Now for the slightest of things, I would wrap an angbao to wish good luck to those who wish me well. I would pray to the wind and rain for blessing my land. I thank my body for doing so many amazing things (yoga). I value each tradition and cultural festivity.
When I finally break free, I will seek my roots back in china and thank those relations that made my gene pool possible. I pray for their good health and karma.
When I left, my mother gave me an angbao. I didn't realize its value. Now whenever I looked at it, I would tear non-stop. So much well-wishing and sacrifice for a son to go forth to a foreign land in search of greener pasture. What more can a person wish for? Isn't this blessing more than enough?
My tradition is for me to remind myself of who I still am. My tradition is the beacon for me to find myself in this sea of people. Even a simple angbao meant so much to me. I beg you too to remember the very root that brought you here.
徐志摩家的月餅
悄悄的我收了，正如你悄悄的送，
我揮一揮衣袖，來年你還送不送！
瓊瑤家的月餅
我有一塊月餅，不知與誰能共？
多少秘密在其中，送餅之人能懂。
餅外情深義重，餅內目的重重。
迎來送往懼無蹤，徒留一簾幽夢！
十五夜望月
王建（唐）
中庭地白树栖鸦，
冷露无声湿桂花。
今夜月明人尽望，
不知秋思落谁家?
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