Today is Father's Day. Whenever I think of my father, I will always remember his stern look. I still remembered being whacked by him for not following him to sell sugar-cane, and other titbits at the gambling site at a village near a river. The gamblers would frequent our stall and bought sugarcane of other titbits. By selling these my father earned extra money for the family. He was selling fish in the morning and he made full use of the after to bring in more income. I didn't give a thought to that the at time, being still small and was ignorant of such things.
My father was very good at calligraphy. He signed my report card using a Chinese brush. I still kept my report card just to keep fond memory of the fine calligraphy. He could memorise the
'San Zi Jing' or 'Three-worded Mantra'. Up to now I can still remember the initial parts of this book.
People often came to my father when they had fish-bone stuck to their upper roof of their mouths. When they approached my dad, he would take out a cup, pour some water into it and point his forefinger towards the sun and start to draw something on the surface of the water. Then he would ask his 'patient' to drink three sips and the rest would be thrown onto the roof. Miraculously the bone that got stuck in the mouth would simply disappeared. Unluckily, he did not pass this mysterious knowledge to me and I had no idea how to do it, especially what to draw on the surface of the water in the cup.
I really hope my late father had been born into a better realm than human realm.
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