He & She II

Prelude

This story was told to me when I was very young. At least 15 years ago. Both my grandparents were already full of snowy white hair and yet, they were so healthy that they don't look their age.

We had problem communicating with one and another as I was not fluent in my dialect, Cantonese. It was always a stammering of mandarin and Cantonese when we were conversing.

The best thing of all, my grandparents can understand me perfectly. I only knew two words out of the whole sentence, guessing the rest of it...

However, strangely enough, when this story was told to me in Cantonese, I managed to grasp the essence of the language and understood it completely.

As if the same blood which coarse in me and my grandpa somehow awaken the sleeping fluency of the language that has been sleeping within.

A magical feeling which only happens once in a lifetime...

Chapter 2

After dinner, my mom and aunts went to the kitchen to do the dishes. My dad and Sok Sok went to the corridor to catch up on lost times.

My grandma has retired to the bedroom, listening to the small black diffusior. The living room was left of me and grandpa.

My aunt had made 2 cups of Pu Er (a type of chinese tea) for us and my grandpa settled into his cane rocking chair while I lay comfortably on the sofa.

The lights were dimmed as my grandpa's eyes were not that good.

He looked at me with a faint smile, sipped his tea.

A cool breeze was blowing...


"Our family has always been one of the best in handmade noodles in the region of Guang Dong (China). I learned how to make noodles at the age of five and till the age of seventeen, I was never allowed to cook my own noodles. All I did for twelve years is to make noodles, knead them back to dough and make noodles again.
All under the instructions of your great grandfather, my father. That twelve years was just to perfect the art of making noodles.

On my eighteenth birthday, my father made me went through a customary test. It was a test to determine whether one could step into the kitchen to cook one's own noodles.

The test was very simple. All I have to do is to let the judges inspect the noodles that I have made. The passing requirement was tough though..."

He took another sip of tea and looked into the sky. His eyes were wet and a little red...

"My Grandpa and my father were the judges. In order to pass the test, the noodles I made must be translucent. I was very sure of myself as I have been asking my mother about the standard of my noodles. There was nothing but praises from her.

However, on that fateful day, my nerves failed me. The noodles I made was not of the passing mark. Instead, it looked more like a rookie noodle maker who was practicing. My Grandpa and my father were totally disappointed in me.

From that day onwards, they grew distant from me... Conversations were far and few..."

He paused, looking at the moon...

The living room was illuminated by the light of it, as if the moon was a spotlight solely for my Grandpa. He was immersed in his own thoughts, most likely his past.

The feelings from his eyes was like a movie projector. Replaying the scene of that day when he failed. A moment of silence that allows his feelings to be magnified, trembling through the air into the hearts of those around him.

To be continued...