When having long exhausted day, the jostle of this life invades the soul, I think about Bagan, think about a quiet area of this life. What I like most in Bagan is not the massive epic temple, it is the regular rhythm of life behind the wheel, the silence, between the ancient temples.
I longed for step my bare foot on the cool stones of the ancient temples, walking along the long corridors, through the light emitted from the vents, watching the faces of the Buddha statues. I used to sit very long in the large yard behind a large temple to bamboo bed. I was wondering what he had in his dream? I wish I was a child, was sleeping in the regular sound of temple bells, in the taciturn place, by chirped sound of sparrows on the brown roof. I’ve been dumbfounded when standing in the darkest hallway of the largest temple in Bagan, looking toward the dazzling light panels, and an elderly monk carried a birdcage lightly came out of the light, and then suddenly disappear in the middle of all thing. In a moment I had mistaken to the illusion of thousands of years ago, of the supreme bringing hope to those who were disoriented in this life.
Bagan give people the feeling of peace in every life, in every step. Any movement of life seems very smooth as each rotation of the horses wheels. It’s wonderful because in Bagan, traditions still go along with modern life style. I especially like the chariots, like looking at the dust flying up behind the slow wheel; I also love seeing the temples bathed in the sunlight. Everything slowly passed by, all the struggles become meaningless, life returned to as primitive as it used to be.
I will not know when I can come back here, probably be very long, or never. I have no idea about this. Maybe future life will sweep me away from the original value, I will not ever have these mornings leisurely bike on Bagan dusty roads, smiling with the lovely thanaka faces, with the different skin colors. Sometimes, feelong too much a land is not a good thing, it makes my heart beating fast and so emotional, and that would not be a pleasant feeling.
Maybe I’ll keep all memories of Bagan in a place which is easy to find in the middle of the chaotic life. The frames, the do not need to elaborate so much, but still make my heart throbbing, still sounds the sounds of noon prayers.
I longed for step my bare foot on the cool stones of the ancient temples, walking along the long corridors, through the light emitted from the vents, watching the faces of the Buddha statues. I used to sit very long in the large yard behind a large temple to bamboo bed. I was wondering what he had in his dream? I wish I was a child, was sleeping in the regular sound of temple bells, in the taciturn place, by chirped sound of sparrows on the brown roof. I’ve been dumbfounded when standing in the darkest hallway of the largest temple in Bagan, looking toward the dazzling light panels, and an elderly monk carried a birdcage lightly came out of the light, and then suddenly disappear in the middle of all thing. In a moment I had mistaken to the illusion of thousands of years ago, of the supreme bringing hope to those who were disoriented in this life.
I will not know when I can come back here, probably be very long, or never. I have no idea about this. Maybe future life will sweep me away from the original value, I will not ever have these mornings leisurely bike on Bagan dusty roads, smiling with the lovely thanaka faces, with the different skin colors. Sometimes, feelong too much a land is not a good thing, it makes my heart beating fast and so emotional, and that would not be a pleasant feeling.
Maybe I’ll keep all memories of Bagan in a place which is easy to find in the middle of the chaotic life. The frames, the do not need to elaborate so much, but still make my heart throbbing, still sounds the sounds of noon prayers.
