Chapter 4 Chapter Four

When, that photo?I asked. Hongkong. You took the picture, right?The background is blue sea and white waves, there are only you two in the world. Good imagination. Yes, or not? Are you in love with him? I was startled, and found that I had fallen asleep leaning against the window and had a dream, my face was flushed.The two brothers on the opposite side looked at me kindly. I must have argued in my dream and became shy.It was a room with a curtain hanging down. Sophie opened the curtain and walked out. She was not angry at all, on the contrary she was very proud. You must know that I seldom fall asleep on trains and planes. I blame the bright sunlight outside the window and the constantly changing scenery.It has been a long time, my face will not be flushed, my heart is afraid of being hurt, I have long understood that I must protect myself, and love at first sight is a joke.Therefore, such things can only happen in dreams.

However, I am jealous of Sophie?Even in a dream, it would be too embarrassing. The train is heading south, and at every station there are people getting on and off, and only one-tenth of the people getting off.The platform was crowded with people, and there were more and more Westerners.When approaching Agra, the train started to stop and go, and the train stopped before entering the platform of Agra Station.Say you can't go, don't know what's going on in front of you?Passengers got off the train to breathe, and both sides of the railway track were full of people. This is actually the train station of the Taj Mahal. I have to admit that I was sent here by fate.When I sent the electronic postcard to Sophie last night, I thought to myself that I don't believe in true love in the world, so I never want to go to the Taj Mahal, the mansion of love.It's too early to speak harshly, you should reflect on yourself and sincerely review, life is too mysterious, who can tell where the next moment will be?

Not many people actually got off the bus, so I asked the staff on the bus, "How long will it take?" "have no idea." "Will that be an hour?" "I don't know." He glanced at me and said, "If you want to go down, you'd better hurry up, but the train usually won't leave for two hours." I thought about it, it wasn't worth it to stay on the train and wait foolishly, so I picked up my luggage and left.Agra Fort station, a red sandstone castle of pure masculinity appears opposite the station, needless to say that the octagonal tower is the place where the only son of the rebellious king of Sagahan was imprisoned for seven years until his death, the poor king of Sagahan lived in it every day Looking at the Yamna River, you can only be with your beloved woman if you choose to die.Since the station is so close to the castle, I can go tonight to see Taj, the happiest woman in the world, and see how the moon hangs obliquely on the white marble.

At the south exit of the Taj Mahal, the entire street is full of large and small hotels, restaurants, photo studios, and shops, and it is very lively.At night, the streets are brightly lit, just like the delicious streets in every city in China, and there are also small shops that specialize in cheap international calls, which are open all night.My electric tricycle driver looked honest and introduced me along the way. He wore a headscarf and a mustache, and he talked endlessly.From Agra Fort to Taj Mahal for 1.3 kilometers, he only needs 12 rupees for me, and 33 rupees for other drivers. "When you come to this street, it is convenient to eat, live and play." He said.

"Which hotel is better, and there are vacancies?" I was worried that there would be no beds and I would be slaughtered, so I hurriedly asked when I met someone like him. "Then I'll take you to a family." "It's better to take a shower." "No problem." He said the same thing, everyone in India said it.I frowned, and I was a little worried that this person might be a solicitor, pretending to be a good person, taking a small loss to gain a big advantage. He parked in front of a restaurant and ran in to talk to the people inside.After a while, he came out and said to me: "You are lucky, you have a room, 550 rupees a night for a double bed room with bathroom for personal use."

Just now, the three-wheeled electric vehicle came along Nanmen Street and walked slowly past several hotels. After a sensory comparison, it seems that the facade of this hotel looks tidy, and it may be more expensive than other hotels.It's more expensive, if the driver gets referral kickbacks in this hotel, it's fine, I feel good when people are pleasing to the eye.And a good mood is the most important thing when you are away from home. The driver helped me with my luggage, and I paid his fare, plus a tip of 20 rupees. The room is small, but the bed has a clean mosquito net, and the window faces the acacia tree and the lawn.Looking at the hotel cost is indeed 550 rupees a night, 250 rupees for a room with public toilets and public bathrooms, and 350 rupees for a room with a cooling fan and no personal hygiene bathroom.The coachman is a good man, and all the people in the coachman's hotel cannot be regarded as liars just because the country is poor.

According to the hotel's local introduction, there are the oldest restaurants nearby, including Western, Indian and Israeli cuisine. Don't miss the banana lashi there.The evening breeze was blowing, I looked for it according to the map, and a few children were sitting at the door, sitting on the light blue iron fence. When they saw me coming, they danced to welcome me, and I immediately laughed.Pink walls, a large advertisement for Coca-Cola on the signboard, and fans on the doors and windows.The facade is not big, but the inside is quite spacious. I ordered Morco Leparata, which is filled with cabbage and potato fillings and egg skins, with cream, served with special soy sauce and salad, and the taste is soft.Kabab is roasted with chicken marinated sweet and sour, with some tomatoes, it looks good and delicious.The last dish is banana rashi, which is mixed with sandy date paste from southern India, put cloves,

Cumin, coriander and ground black pepper.Tasting Lashi and drinking local beer, the time passed quickly. The gas lamps on the roadside outside the window were all lit.I looked at those shining lights in the darkness, and my heart was moved. It was like walking alone on the small bluestone street in the late autumn night in a small town in western Yunnan. It is old, simple, with stories, and the shops The black cat blinked his eyes.That night was similar to this night, with tourists hanging out in restaurants, bars, and gift shops, and entertainers performing, singing and singing, and dancing like witchcraft.

After eating, I opened the door of the restaurant and stood on the side of the road.Avoid the bustling places, look at the far-reaching starry sky, the night is a bit cold, it is better to wear a thick shirt when the weather is good during the day.Really, I just don't want to go back to the hotel because I'm afraid of contacting Sophie. If she hits her acupuncture points directly like in the dream, I really don't know how to answer. Walk along the street and see a clothing store on the corner, colorful and eye-catching, it seems relatively quiet.I couldn't resist the temptation to open the door and walk in.There are a lot of imitation gold and real silver jewelry items, the anklets have pretty tacky patterns, and the shoes are comfortable and cute.There are clothes samples hanging high on the walls of the store, which is refreshing without plastic mannequins.Otherwise, seeing the perfection of the model, I would not dare to try on clothes and look in the mirror.Walking along the clothes rack, they are all traditional Indian women's clothing. The saree lower body is made of long and short fabrics, tightly wrapped around the part below the navel, petticoats and tight blouses.Punjabi's robes are of various styles, the trousers are generally tightened, and the scarves worn on the chest are mostly 3 meters long.I picked out a pair of purple silk satin punks that I wear this season, and I added a pair of flat embroidered slippers in the same color.I just checked the size, paid for the clothes without thinking about trying them on, and went back to the hotel with the bag.The room was lukewarm and didn't need air conditioning.

I pushed open the window, and the moonlight covered the branches of jujube trees. I sat down, turned on the computer, repeated the old action, unplugged the hotel telephone cable and plugged it in, and then switched the phone number in the computer to go online.It was five minutes to twelve. Sophie got tired of waiting, she called the Imperial Hotel in Delhi today, thinking that I would leave a message there when I left, but it didn't, but she knew that I had received her faxed photo before I left.Her cell phone was always on, and I didn't make a call. She couldn't find me, running around like a cat in a hot tin house.Watching TV at night, she knew that there was an accident on the northern Indian railway line, so she guessed that I might be around the Taj Mahal.

She has already typed out a poem by someone unknown, and she is waiting to show it to me: The longest distance in the world not life and death It's me standing right in front of you and you don't know I love you The longest distance in the world It's not that I stand in front of you but you don't know that I love you But knowing that we love each other but we can't be together My eyes darted over the sentences, and there was nothing striking.It was Tagore's poem, which Ananda used to compose the lyrics.But sending it to me at this time, is it another Western charade?I have a strong feeling that Sophie knew far more about Ananda than I did, and even knew other clues about Ananda's stay in India.Does she want to use poetry to talk about the distance between me and her?I have a problem with her, I have a problem with everyone, I have a problem with everyone.How arrogantly do I want to solve this common problem of mankind. Maybe she just copied this poem to pass her anxiety.Patience is her forte, and her e-mails always surprise me, some things that others would not think of. My husband loves the internet, what would he think if this poem was forwarded to him? Honestly, I really want to do it.But after I went out, I took off from Beijing to Delhi, and then to this Raj Hotel, it was my third night in this strange country.I didn't write him a letter, and he didn't write a letter to me.In my life, he doesn't exist, just like we each have our own circle of friends, when someone tells me about him, I smile and nod.No one really understands the distance between me and him, including me and him, why should it be like this, must it be like this?Like I often dream that he passes by my study and walks to another room. The mattress has a pattern of red goldfish and aquatic plants, very deep and deep red and yellow, stretching out from the green grass, and the ten-year marriage bed sleeps Watching another woman, I got lost between doors, didn't know where the way out was, and I contracted insomnia.He said he would never embarrass me to my face, but he still did.I still acted as if nothing had happened, I didn’t cry or fuss, I just felt my heart was changing, and a lot of small air bubbles were born, these air bubbles were expanding, trying desperately to fly out of my body, otherwise they would explode, I vomited, and finally In a serious case, he vomited blood, so he had to try to divert his attention as soon as he felt the air bubbles. Now I close my eyes and think of him, taller than me, smarter than me, more capable than me, better balanced than me.His hair grows fast, and he is younger than me just because of this. I really envy him for having good hair.I cut his hair. From the time I realized it to now, it was me. Every time I cut his hair, I wanted to cut his hair into a messy chicken coop, so that he would be very ugly, but I didn't do that every time.The scissors are in my hand, and it's not just scissors to me.I am focused, he can't see how pale my face is, how trembling my hands are, I won't let him see it, and I won't let others see it. But this evening I don't have any extra time for him, Sophie stares at me every second, not to mention the things going on between me and her, I don't know how many times more exciting than sending an electronic letter to my husband! "It's too dramatic. Read it in a dramatic place. I am on the South Gate Street of the Taj Mahal, borrowing the immortal love of an emperor, and facing the respected Ms. Sophie." "With the unique friendship of an ordinary person, I would like to pay tribute to my dear writer." Sophie continued: "See the attachment of the e-mail for the photo." After checking, there is indeed an attachment. The photo sent by Sophie is clearer than the fax. It really is blue sky and green sea. The decomposition rate of distant mountains and beaches is quite high. Three buttons.So weird, almost exactly like the one I dreamed about on the train.If I ask Sophie who took it?I am afraid that her answer will be the same as in the dream: "Are you in love with him?" She will point it out to me half-jokingly and half-seriously.I don't speak, wait for her.She couldn't help it anymore, and typed a line: "I took the photos. I took a lot of them, but he took them away. This is what's left." "Why never let me see it?" Sophie typed a row of ××××, was silent for two seconds, and then told me that it was the autumn of 1994, and the last time they met was on Lamma Island in Hong Kong. "The moonlight is intoxicating, and the fascinated soul has not yet awakened." Of course I know the island: it's pretty wild.Some people are on that island for some special reasons.Sophie has a villa on that island, on the mountainside, where she goes when she wants to avoid people.To go to the island, take a ferry at Central Pier No. 6, between the Star Ferry Terminal and the Hong Kong-Macau Ferry Terminal. It used to be called a ferry, but later it was called a flying boat.There is a class every 20 minutes during working hours, and every other time is a small class.The old ferry has three floors and an open-air deck. It sails leisurely and slowly. The whole journey takes 40 minutes, and you can flip through a book.There are speedboats these days and it takes 25 minutes to get there, but the cabin is closed, there is a smell, and there is a nasty motor noise. Then look at the sea, watch the sunset on the sea.The sea is the most beautiful in autumn, and the sunset on the sea is even more brilliant.The island is a paradise, with ancient trees and strange vines, and eagles often perched on the cliffs to watch the sea. The scenery is beautiful, and both Chinese and Western people like to live there.There are small villages, some farming, no cars, and fresh air. Compared with the hustle and bustle of Hong Kong, the simple life is really a kind of enjoyment.It was autumn that year, the sky was very blue, the trees were very green, there were many flowers, and the fruits were sweet. I know that Sophie and Ananda have a good relationship, and of course I'm not so stupid that I don't think about the relationship between men and women. It should be said that it's none of my business.But the responsibility is on me, and I know it's not interesting, so I have to listen.Sophie's world is very big, she knows all kinds of people, and all kinds of people know her and want to know her.I often make fun of this man and that woman, and once I mentioned Ananda directly, she stopped her and said that she had never had such a blessing. A line of words appeared on the screen: "Memories are bitter, how embarrassing!" She suddenly wanted to say something, and suddenly recruited.After waiting for so many years, I was stunned and didn't react.But I feel very sad.Ah, why, where does that sourness and bitterness come from?It’s not that I have a husband who doesn’t love me, and thinks that Ananda is the only man left in the world.Why, why? "Use your mobile phone. It's best not to leave any text for the following matters."When this line appeared, my cell phone rang.I keep turning off the phone, and I don't know when I accidentally touch the key, and the phone turns on by itself.This is so strange, and the strangest thing is that she knew that it was a lie that I went to India without a mobile phone. Ananda lived on the island for half a year, walking around the island every afternoon, half of his body was tanned like charcoal.I go to the south of the island for swimming at night, where there are few people and the beach is big, and you can overlook the night view of Hong Kong Island from a high place.In the morning, I went to the fishermen to buy fish and shrimp just caught from the sea, and then I went to the people in the village to buy vegetables that were growing in the soil.The days passed regularly, but he was in such a bad mood that he hardly wanted to talk.Sophie was there for him as much as possible, she loved him.He used to have many women. Before, he didn't have so much alone time for her, but when he had time, his heart was not there. But things are not that simple, Sophie continued to talk about the things that are nestled in her heart like Laojiao wine: Even if she was the only woman on this island, he ignored her.He actually said that Hong Kong women hate it.She was in such agony that she could not talk to him.Only once, on a moonlit night, they were walking side by side by the seaside, she burst into tears, and walked into the sea while undressing.She didn't expect him to follow and take off his clothes.He swims naked every day, but usually he swims fast and far, and she can't keep up. She always swims back to the beach and lies down, waiting for him to come out of the water and lie on her body dripping wet. Only this time she swam ahead of him, and he followed her, swimming several miles away.The moonlight soothes the sea, like a bed, lowered and raised.It was a dark blue still night. They swam farther and farther without feeling tired. The beach became a line, the coconut trees became a shadow, and the lights on the island were like fireflies. cloud.She didn't feel any danger, but felt that the sky and the earth were extraordinarily round and harmonious, and they combined in the water, like a hermaphrodite fish. Sophie's thoughts suddenly came back to me: "Hate me, I didn't tell you the truth." "I bless you." "I'm just worried that your ship is going away from me." She cares about her feelings for me, just like I care about her, so she keeps hiding it!So I should understand her. "Try it. In fact, we haven't seen each other for seven years. The sun and the moon are two planets, and the day and night are two worlds. Think about it, think about it." "Why do you want me to find him?" "Because he will not neglect a woman who really understands him. Looking around the world, the only person I can trust and who is willing to help me is you. It's really sad." "Will he refuse to see you?" "absolute." "What's the use of seeing it?" "If you see it, I will see it." "What do you want me to say?" "That's what I just said," said Sophie.I think it's definitely not that simple. Of course, love lasts forever. It would be absurd for me to tell the feeling of their intercourse in the sea.The more crazy Sophie said, the more suspicious I became.Seven years is not a week and a month, but eighty-four months and 2,555 days. There are too many gaps, and too many stories need to be filled.No matter how rich my imagination is, I'm afraid it's useless.On the contrary, it is also a challenge. There are too many secrets, such clues can be arranged, and even raising a child is a teenager.My intuition told me that Sophie was lying. She and Ananda would not be separated for seven years, but two or three years at most, which is reasonable. "Okay, how can I meet him. You should tell me the clues in your hand." I pointed out the key point directly. "I really don't have a clue," she said anxiously. "Please, because you'll find the clue. Didn't you find it in Derry?" "It was a coincidence. I don't know if it is true? Even if it is true, it is a clueless clue."I'm a little annoyed.This Sophie seems to be an expert in Hong Kong romance novels, and she can actually blackmail her feelings-I have to travel around in a foreign country to save her tearful romance. "Please," said Sophie curtly. I hesitated for a while before saying, "Okay, I'll try." The phone line was disconnected.I put my phone on the table and stared at the small hard case like a monster.Due to the long pause, the computer screen was tumbling in curves.I don't know whether I should shut down my computer and take a rest, or should I write?I think of the patience of Sophie, who said not long ago that my new book needs a new look, and my life needs new content.She's right, I need patience too, and in the name of something meaningful we're doing together, I should be patient. After turning off the lights, I lay on the bed, staring at the dark ceiling and thinking blankly: Here, how can I find Ananda?No, I told a guy I was going to India and he said he might go too?His name is Mao Lin. Before I left Beijing, I received an e-mail from him, saying that he was in charge of selecting films in India and that he would hold an Indian Film Week in China, which would be co-organized by his China Film Association and the Cultural Office of the Indian Embassy in China. of. So I turned on the light, got out of bed and sat back at the computer.The Internet here is faster than in Beijing. I admire the advanced and popular Internet in India. There are many Internet cafes, and there are more people in Internet cafes than in China. It is said that ordinary Indians have no money to buy computers or make phone calls. Internet cafes are cheap and easy, and you can use the Internet to convey any letter. This is probably unique in the world. In the middle of the night, when I was doomed to sleeplessness, I returned to the Internet and checked the mailbox used by Mao Lin. Sure enough, there was a letter from him: "Do you know? This mailbox is dedicated to you alone."This guy can really talk.That is, he has been using this mailbox all the time, so I didn't completely discard it.I read on: "Where are you? In fact, I am the same wherever you are. Your face is firm and calm, your eyes are clear and confident, but when you turn around, your back looks so helpless and weak. Your back is your name, like a Little girl. Don’t you like people standing behind you and looking at you? At least I don’t, so I don’t see you if you can.” This Mao Lin likes to play with words - not like Sophie's epigrams, but like a lyric poet in the 1950s, and he doesn't care about the special style of e-mail.No wonder, he is one of the countless people who wanted to be a writer but failed. We were classmates at Lu Xun Academy of Literature in the late 1980s.In fact, these friends who are not writers are now doing more interesting things than writing, but they still refuse to give up their dream of being a writer.His letter was there waiting for me to be hooked, I knew it.I think his style of writing is lack of talent, and God saved him from not writing. There must be something wrong with Mao Lin's memory.He drove to my home in Beijing to deliver a box of coconut milk, but I was not there.We haven't seen each other in the past three or four years, but letters come in from time to time, and my reply is always the same: I'm fine, I'm the same, I can't write any more.Oh, just published a novel.He doesn't care if I write short letters. I think I should tell him: "It seems that Ananda is in India. Please help. Is there any clearer clue?" I hesitated to write these words, but I wrote it anyway.I know that his computer is permanently connected, even when other people are away, the mobile phone can also transmit, and his computer experts are the best in the country.Even so, I think he'll have to wait a while before answering me. Mao Lin is not my boyfriend, not my lover, nor my spiritual lover.If I do that with him, then our friendship will be over.Maybe we all feel that this dangerous step is always waiting around, so we have never crossed the boundaries set by each other.On this night, I looked at my life and realized for the first time that maybe I was doing something wrong.Or maybe the Taj Mahal in the moonlight makes me feel intensely lonely. For Sophie, it seems that I have to change my itinerary and go to Boronis tomorrow? I really wish I was in the small village of Lumbini, walking alone on the border between Nepal and India.The Buddha's mother walked here in those days, and the dense saffron tree was full of colorful flowers. She stretched out her right hand to pick the flowers, and a baby was born from her right arm.The sky and the earth shook, and the light shone, and the baby stood up by itself, walking seven steps in each direction, each step forming a lotus, pointing to the sky with one hand, and pointing to the ground with the other, saying that he is the only one in the sky and the world.The huge lotus supports the Buddha's feet, and the water from the sky empowers and bathes him.If it is in Kapilavatthu, that desolate ancient city is sparsely populated and cows eat green grass.I really want to see that relief. It tells about the legendary Prince Siddhartha wearing gorgeous clothes, riding a horse, and borrowing the power of the gods to quietly climb out of the city in the middle of the night when he left the secular life and became a monk.I can imagine that after the rainy season, the road is still full of water and swamps, wild ponds are everywhere, and the water surface is full of white lotus.