Thursday, March 01, 2012

Making a living on Temple Street

It could not have felt good to stretch out your hand, to try to hand someone a handbill, and be ignored by everyone that walked by.  I saw on her face quiet resignation.  It is a hard way to make a living. 

A man walked out of a singing palour, stretched his arms while smoking a cigarette.  It was almost like he was practicing Tai Qi.  I could not quite figure out what he was doing inside.  Did he work there?  Was be a customer?  In any case, he did not seem unhappy. 

The lady pulled up her sleeves, as if to fight.  But she was merely getting ready to set up her stall for the evening.

How does it feel to sit there all day, guarding the Guan Yins and assorted idols?  Probably not much more than the girl handing out bills.

One fortune telling stall set up for the evening.   Many more waiting. Somehow something is not aligned there.  You would think that if one is truly able to predict or influence the future, one would not have to make a living telling fortunes on the street.  Perhaps there is something that escapes me. 

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