Early Ching Ming And The Scary World I Live In

I spent the last weekend doing rituals - Ching Ming. On Saturday, my family went to Malaysia to pay respects to my great-grandmother at her grave. (I have taken a few pics of the nice mountain scenary and the grave, but I think nobody wants to see spooky graveyards of someone not related to them, so I shall spare you.)

The rituals include cleaning the graves of some other relatives and neighbours and inviting them over to my great-grandma's graveyard to taste our offerings and have a gathering. After the candles are burnt and the joss-sticks mostly combusted, we offered to burn hell-bank-notes for them to spend in the netherworld.

Then we went to visit a few of my father's old primary school friends and also neighbours. Ended the evening with a grocery shopping at the nearest mall before heading back home. Of course, I also tried to pump my tank full of cheaper Malaysian petrol before heading back home.

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On Sunday, we went to pay respects to my grandfather, who is now living in an apartment in a Chinese temple off Old Holland Road. Even in death, Singaporeans (or a Singapore Resident, in the case of my grandfather,) do not have the luxuary of RIP in landed property.

Of course, not forgetting other relatives who are also housed in the same temple, to share in the offerings.

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My father and my grandfather, as far back as I know, were at loggerheads. I shall not attempt to summarize a lifetime of issues here.

Although I have always seen arguments and quarrels in the house when I was younger, my father has always been filial in handling my grandfather's old age, illness and stuff like that. Of course, there are gripes on how the other siblings are not helping and even angry at my father for ill-treating my grandparent's.

Of course, when offered the "If you think I am treating them so badly, then bring them to your house lah ! You show me how to be filial lah !" statement (though not that way literally, my father sugar-coats his words), no one accepts the challenge. My father, by the way, is not the eldest son. He is the 3rd sibling, behind an eldest uncle and an elder auntie.

When my grandfather was alife, I ever wondered whether my father was filial due to "peer pressure" or things of that sort. Even in death, I sometimes wonder whether all these Ching Ming thing is truely from his heart, or just trying to inbue in us this filial ritual so that we will do the same for him when he passes on.

Sometimes, I wonder whether I am really so sick of this world that I even start to doubt the intention of my own father. Sometimes, I think I am the sick one. Why do these thoughts cross my mind ?

The world is already a scary place. I am grateful that I do not have telepathy or any mind-reading abilities, or I have to deal with an even darker world than it already is.