Dialogue prose between mind and time

Just like the twelfth lunar month every year, expressway is jammed all the way. Finally, after stepping on the accelerator for countless times, it is getting closer and closer to its hometown after a year's absence.

I was born in a small town in the eastern plain of Henan Province. There are many celebrities in the history of my hometown. The most famous is Zhuangzi, followed by Jiang Yan, the genius of Jiang Lang. However, when I entered Jiang Yan's pinyin, my input method failed to find his name, which made me doubt his popularity.

My hometown will always be my childhood in my memory, although now she has changed beyond recognition. At that time, the children were running around the sandbag yard in the open space at the door, or swinging sweet potato vines to jump rope, or sweating and kicking beautiful chicken feathers, still playing childhood games with the big red brick tile house vividly.

At the end of the day, it was dusk, and the sunset outside the window reflected the trees in winter, which was particularly beautiful, and a long-lost touch came to my heart.

wedding

The day after I got home was the 26th of the twelfth lunar month. According to local customs, this is the so-called auspicious day for marriage. Before dawn, I was awakened by the continuous firecrackers. My door is the main passage in the village. When I went out, I saw that the car for the wedding reception was stuck in a long queue. Rural people pay attention to ostentation and extravagance, and relatives and friends with cars will come to save face. Various colors and signs are connected with the license plate, just like a nonsense automobile exhibition center and a national road. The cars coming from the opposite side are almost inseparable, and they are all eager to pick up the bride at the right time. The uncompromising cars began to honk their horns and set off firecrackers. After a long time, the long motorcade dispersed in the sound of firecrackers.

In recent years, there has been a serious imbalance between men and women in rural areas. Families with sons have been asking matchmakers to talk about their daughters-in-law early. Many boys with good conditions will get old as long as they are 234, and it is harder to find them every year. Coupled with all kinds of comparisons, the cost of marrying a daughter-in-law is increasing year by year. Some girls who are not so good-looking want a bride price, a car and a house, and even put forward some ridiculous conditions. For example, many girls ask men to have no brothers and more sisters. I once met a boy who had four sisters on his wedding day. There were hundreds of thousands of kowtow gifts from the sisters alone, and a washbasin full of hundred-dollar bills was very gratifying.

My cousin who was running around the yard two years ago next door got married this day. The fireworks on the groom's chest can't stop the childishness on his face. Naturally, he can't get a marriage certificate. He held a wedding first, and then went to get a license after he was two years old. This kind of situation is very common on our side. In recent years, rural wedding companies have blossomed everywhere. Aerial arch, red carpet, large wedding photos at the door and a wonderful master of ceremonies have become the standard of today's wedding. The wedding scene seems to be the host's personal show, from sensational thanks to a series of jingles, and finally a solo. The relatives and friends present burst into tears with his rhythm, and sometimes burst into laughter, which was also very harmonious.

During the dinner, greetings from relatives and friends, children's frolicking, men's screaming speculation, and women's yelling at their children are all connected. The table was full of cloned delicacies, and finally a bowl of egg soup called fuck off soup was served. The banquet ended in various satisfied or spiteful comments.

Go home (after a long time away from home)

I don't know when it will start, and family reunion is indispensable during the New Year. Of course, various versions of the party are the most indispensable in the restaurant. Almost all of us work in other places all the year round, and the corners of the motherland are all over the country. At this time of the year, everyone comes back from all over the country, and all kinds of world experiences, lifestyles, shopping experiences, memories and sweet thoughts, all kinds of innuendo, and a meal breaks everyone up. Looking at each other more and more vicissitudes of life, it is inevitable to sigh, as if Liangzi, who had a big nose yesterday, had become a bald uncle sitting opposite him. How can a girl with a ponytail have crow's feet when she smiles? How can a hemp monkey stand up with a beer belly? Time is so cruel that you get old before you are ready to grow up.

After a full meal, you won't enjoy yourself. Everyone will choose KTV like a concert hall to sing. The consumption of villages and towns is not less than that of cities. A private room costs 500 yuan to 600 yuan, plus drinks, it will cost thousands.

The grievances accumulated for a long time and the joy of returning to China are all vented with tuneless songs. Wang Dong, who has been working as a mason outside, said: "I have been a grandson for a year, and today I finally become a grandfather." Everyone can't help but feel a little sour after listening to it. The hardships of life have already smoothed our edges and corners. At this moment, we can wash away our disguise and present our true selves, and we are gratified.

Visit relatives

My knowledge of visiting relatives has always stayed on my childhood father's bicycle beam. At that time, my mother would put some air-dried white steamed buns, some apples and oranges in the bamboo basket, add two boxes of cakes and cover them with red towels. My brother or I will sit on the beam of a bicycle, and my father will hum a tune and take us to various villages to pay New Year greetings. We will get some lucky money from our elders, and one or two of them can be kept for ourselves. I usually buy some beautiful hair clips. Or spend 50 cents to buy a bag of instant noodles from the nanny in the shop. That kind of crushed fragrance is poured into the mouth, which is the best yearning for childhood, and my brother will buy firecrackers or marbles. That little sense of satisfaction has never appeared in those years when I was growing up. The past is always like this, with a very warm lens staged in my mind.

Eight years ago, in an accident, my father, who was in his prime, left us forever, and I can only take grass to his grave to order some paper money on the third day of the first month of each year. The warm time in the past will be repeated every time I stand in front of the grave. The memory of my father can only be carefully placed in the deepest part of my heart, and even I rarely write about him, because my friends can see it, and I know that every time I mention it, it will make us heartache.

Nowadays, the custom of visiting relatives in the New Year is still there, but there is no such atmosphere. There are mountains of exquisite gift boxes in the supermarket, and people who ride bicycles to visit relatives can no longer be seen on the road. Those people who are pushing a box of cakes around are long gone. They can only see the elders standing at the door to greet them and send them to the younger generation to pay a New Year call.

Quietly reflect

The roaring Yellow River flows through my hometown, leaving yellow sand all over the sky. Wise ancestors planted the famous Sheng 'an forest belt, which is one of the top ten artificial forests in Asia. In eastern Henan, where there are no mountains or seas, this plantation is the most proud support of the villagers. Now the government is also vigorously developing the construction of forest parks. On the afternoon of the fourth day, I took the old man and children to the legendary racecourse. The racecourse is in the forest, and the children are very excited. I heard from the boss that several horses were bought in Mongolia. After training, they can ride three times for fifty dollars. According to the boss's instructions, everyone can easily control the tall and powerful Mongolian horses, and the horseshoes step on the yellow sand, which really tastes a bit.

Children on horseback

It is said that there are various activities in the forest all year round. Last year, the Sophora japonica Festival was held. My parents-in-law talked about the lively scene at that time. I once wrote a semi-finished article "Deep in the Sophora japonica". I believe that everyone who grew up in this land has a beautiful story related to it. I don't know how many human joys and sorrows those straight locust trees have witnessed. I sat down against a tree and let my thoughts drift away. I remembered my first love in my girlhood, my tears when I left home for the first time, my childhood catching golden cicadas and stealing watermelons, and countless premature dreams. ...

Back to childhood.

It's another year in Spring Festival travel rush, and the high-speed return trip is still congested. Suddenly I remembered a passage in a circle of friends, where there is a job, there is no home, and where there is a home, there is no job. There is no room for soul in a foreign country, and there is no room for body in my hometown. From then on, there was drift, homesickness and Spring Festival travel rush craze. For our hometown, we are vagrants and housewives. Although she is not perfect, she is the place we want to go back to most. Every time we get close to her, there will be a dialogue between mind and time.