By The River

In 2009 I saw a photograph of the Ganges River in Lonely Planet and bought a ticket to Varanasi. A week later, my grandpa was diagnosed with cancer of the oesophagus. I cancelled my trip.

The initial few months of my grandpa’s diagnosis were heavy and stressful. Death was hanging in the air all the time. I would often get calls from my aunt to rush down because they thought my grandpa was going to pass on. It often turned out to be a false alarm. Real life is a lot less dramatic than we like it to be.

The day my grandfather passed away was like just any other day. There were none of those signs. My grandfather only asked for my grandmother in the wee hours of the morning, held her hand, told her thank you and left.

I also remember feeling a lot less sad than I thought I would. The next morning, I walked out of the flat and was greeted by one of the most glorious skies I’ve seen. It resembled the red and yellow hues of a monk’s robe. I was a bit pissed off at the sight. Why was the sky so beautiful at the death of my grandfather? Even if there were no dark clouds and thunderstorms, we should at least have some fog.

Many years later, I learnt that river always flows downstream. Life goes on no matter what. I was too young and naive to appreciate the vital gesture that day. Instead of brooding over life’s pains, why not transform them into something that connects with another human being?

This series is also inspired by Chinese landscape paintings (山水画) and dedicated to my grandfather.