In Collaboration with my dear Lady Henry Chirashree. The story was written by her.
“The view is breathtaking!” my wife said being excited.
monsoon sun bid long
ago sea roar clouds at horizon
lighthouse the white horse neigh
I remain silent. The sea is tumultuous and the evening sky is black like the night for the gathering of cumulonimbus clouds. For me, it wasn’t beautiful; it was torturous.
It brought back memories that made me hate myself a little more. It reminded me of the girl I once loved; I couldn’t help but curse myself. It brought me back to the moment I’d lost her and made me loathe myself even more.
past is what we all
flee from unknowingly it
shadow us always
Placing her head on my shoulder, she wished the love to last forever when we’d visited this place together; that memory left me with a lump in my throat.
Forever destined for
love now memory all left
hazy but clear
“What’re you thinking about?” my wife asked in a higher tone.
The sea was roaring higher than the last bit. Few droplets were falling already then. I took a deep breath and then, softly, “…about the girl I cheated on.”
confession spoke ease felt
lump release departure of
past may be or not
Kamishibai (紙芝居), literally “paper drama”, is a form of storytelling that originated in Japanese Buddhist temples in the 12th century, where monks used emakimono (picture scrolls) to convey stories with moral lessons to a mostly illiterate audience.
Kamishibai endured as a storytelling method for centuries but is perhaps best known for its revival in the 1920s through the 1950s. The gaito kamishibaiya, or kamishibai storyteller, rode from village to village on a bicycle equipped with a small stage. On arrival, the storyteller used two wooden clappers, called hyoshigi, to announce his arrival. Children who bought candy from the storyteller got the best seats in front of the stage. Once an audience assembled, the storyteller told several stories using a set of illustrated boards, inserted into the stage and withdrawn one by one as the story was told. The stories were often serials and new episodes were told on each visit to the village.
Heeding Haiku with Chèvrefeuille (04/12/2017)