黑夜(Night)

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黑夜(night)

wheniwasachild,nightwasanequivalenttonightmareforme.idon’tknowifitisausualthingforeverychildtoeverhavetheexperienceoffearingthenight.isitaninevitablepartofgrowth?itwasbeyondmyimaginationthaticantakeitsoeasynow.however,ican’tforgetthedepressiontheyusedtobringme. 

twomonthsafteriwasborninshanghai,mymothertookmetoanotherprovince,wheretheyworked.i’mnotsureifeverybabydoesn’twanttosleepwhenthenightcomes,butidoknowididn’t.todealwiththat,parentsoftenusethesametrick:frightening.bigbadwolfisapropmostwidelyandfrequentlyused,butmymother’swasdifferent.shewasverysuperstitious(andisstillorevermorenow),soiwasunluckyenoughtolistentoallherstoriesaboutallkindsofghostsandmonsters.perhaps,theonlyfavorthatgodleftmewasherlackinimagination.nevertheless,iwasimaginative.so,usually,motherjustgavemeaninspiration,andiwouldcompletetheworkoffrighteningmyself.lookingback,i’moftendividedbetweentearandlaughter. 

lateron,ireturnedtoshanghaiandlivedatmygrandma’swithoutmyparents.atfirst,ifeltnosadnessatall.naturally,itisimpossibleforachild,whocouldbarelytalk,tounderstandwhatthatmeant.butididfeelsomethingdifficulttoexpressespeciallyatnight.feelingspiledupdaybyday.thiscityiscrowdedandthedowntownlocationofmygrandma’swasparticularlyso,andthereweresomanypeoplearoundme.however,istillfearthenight,whilethefearhasnothingtodowiththeghostsormonsters.ididn’tknowwhy,atfirst.afterwards,ithought,probablyiwaslonelyinfact.iwaslikeamanatsea,who’ssurroundedbywaterbuthasnothingtodrink.althoughican’tmemorizethespecificdatenow,theremusthavebeensuchadayonwhichiunderstoodwhatitmeantforachildnottobeabletolivewithhisparents.sometimes,therewasanimpulsetocry,buticouldn’tbecauseboysarebornforbiddencrying.whenthehustlesandbustlesinthedaytimefaded,whaticouldhearwasacamel’sweepinginmyheart.duringthatperiod,nightwasdrowsyandsoundlessinmyopinion. 

timewentonlikethisfor10yearsorso,andilivedwithmyparentsagain.asigrewolder,icouldhearmorethingsatnight,andthenightalsoexhibitedmemoreofitscolorsbitbybit,thoughmostofthemweresimplysirensongs.anyway,iknowmoreaboutthenight.oneday,ihappenedtohearmozart’sdiezauberflote(magicflute),andthen,thefuryandimpetuosityofnightwasrevealedtomebythesingingofthequeenofthenight.nightsarenotmerelyquietanymore.itcanbesorichincontent,whichihadneverknown.itappearstobecalm,butbeneaththecalmnessareundercurrentsviolent.thenightswallowsupallthebad,theugly,thefalse,andmeanwhile,thegood,thebeautiful,thetrue,likeacertainfatbuddha,laughingallthetimeregardlessofwhathesees,goodorbad.thenightwasbothfairandunfair. 

inhighschool,themajorreasonformetostayuplatebecamehomeworkandpcgames,andnowitcomestobechattingonline.sometimesthenightbecomesthedayandthedaybecomesthenight,sinceisay“goodevening”tosomeonewhenthesunshinesoutsideand“goodmorning”whenthestarstwinkleoutofmywindow.ifiwasaskedinmychildhoodwhatnightwas,iwouldanswerinanutshell“darknessbeforethedawn”.now,myopinionchangedbymyformerclassmateinhighschool.hewasabuddhistinzenandfondofsittingwithlegscrossedformeditation.“nightisthebesttimeinadayforyoutositformeditation,”hesaid,“becauseitcancalmdownallyourficklenessandthereisnoearthlydisturbance.youcantakethatopportunitytofindwhatmistakesyouhavemadeduringthedaytime.”thoughidon’tbelieveinbuddhism,ithinkwhathesaidwaspartlyadvisableyet.ireallyneedsometimetoscanmyself,tolookintomysoul. 

hasthenightchanged?idon’tthinkso.thenightisstillthenight.then,whatchanged?or,whochanged?

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