A Letter to a Friend Afar -- Part I

Once I took a trip to Thailand, Bangkok. It was in April, and the weather was breezy. Though I didn’t plan well the trip before I went there, I know without a doubt that I need to go to the Grand Palace. On the first day I tried to go to the Palace by Tuk-tuk truck. But the driver said I need to wear long sleeve shirt and pants (instead of shorts) to be allowed to enter the Grand Palace. Sad as I were, I spent the rest of the day in shopping malls. Luckily, there were a LOT of shopping malls. Even when the biggest one was bombed by the Red Shirt Army early that month, there were still many that opened all day like nothing with great significance had ever happened. Or I just didn’t noticed.

 

The next day, I was fully prepared, clothes properly worn, passport, money and water all packed up, and ready to pay a visit to the Grand Palace. Since it was about 20 mins walk from my hotel, and the sun hadn’t risen high, I decided to walk there. As I walked, I realized that something interesting must have been happening ahead of the road. And the nearest I got, the crowded the streets became. I went across a busy street where numerous native citizens, all dressed up, were heading towards some place. The traffic flow, motorbikes mostly, was nothing less than powerful. And it was remiss of me that I forgot the fact that traffic in Thailand went on their left side. Unawares, I took a wrong turn and followed the major force to a big square. In the middle of the square, there was a pagoda-like thing (but not like something permanent), and the Thai people, holding lotus and the golden colored foil in their hands, were praying around that pagoda. Such a scene I have only been familiarized with in the Discovery Channel documentaries (one episode of which I remember told the story of Mecca). With hindsight, I believe what I had seen at that square was the holy Buddhist relics. And I think that day was actually the birthday of Buddha. So I lingered, witnessing the monks chanting the Buddhist canon. All the people, pious as they were, listened, murmured and immersed in the beautiful voice hovering in the ambience. I was amazed by the scene.

 

I didn’t manage to the Grand Palace that day. Instead, I wandered into many great temples where Buddhist believers, all wearing white and bare-footed (they left their shoes outside), knelt in front of great Buddhist statues, praying. One temple that still strikes me when I think of it may boast of the biggest Buddha statue in the world. The great Buddha, clad in gold and dwelled under golden roof, lay graciously on the grand overwhelmingly-decorated pedestal. His feet was about the height of a two-storied house. When I walked around the Buddha and finally be face-to-face with him, I couldn’t look into his eyes. I felt so small, so unworthy like a grain of dust in the great universe. I still remember though his mild and gentle countenance, his clandestine smile upon the worldly people, his kind eyes beaming out glaring radiance of benevolence, bestowing ephemeral power into the common people’s heart. I was touched.

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