Today is Tomb Sweeping Day or rather called ‘Qingming’ in Chinese. For the Chinese, this is a day to remember and honour our ancestors and those who depart before us.

It’s pretty jam along the certain roads to someone ‘bungalows’. When I stuck in the jam, I remember the joke told my grandpa long time ago, he said to me: “Everyone has their day, when the day is come, you will shift to your own ‘little bungalow’. Life is short, so be happy.” Somehow, I just remember that until now even he left us many years ago.

Then, I remember Du Mu’s poem name after ‘Qingming’:

清明时节雨纷纷 / qīng míng shí jié yǔ fēn fēn
路上行人欲断魂 / lù shàng xíng rén yù duàn hún
借问酒家何处有 / jiè wèn jiǔ jiā hé chù yǒu
牧童遥指杏花村 / mù tóng yáo zhǐ xìng huā cūn

In English,
A drizzling rain falls like tears on the Mourning Day;
The mourner’s heart is going to break on his way.
Where can a wineshop be found to drown his sad hours?
A cowherd points to a cot ‘mid apricot flowers.

I found out people is busy at sweeping and cleaning the tomb before they pray and offer some chopsticks, food, and burn some paper accessories that they believe will reach to those in the other world. And nowadays, people somewhere even playing firecracker …..

Picture courtesy of sinchew-i

Deep in my heart, somehow, I just miss my little angel that left me last year,
How are you Kewell?
I know you have already gone to a better place,
but still I miss you so much!