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Sunday, 28 September 2025

Ten thousand miles without a cloud

It was the fantastical charm of The Legend of the Monkey King that first drew me in—whirling spells, mythical creatures, and tales of miracles captured my imagination. But as the story unfolded, I began to realize that beneath the playful magic lay a far deeper truth—one centered not on the Monkey King himself, but on the quiet, determined monk who journeyed alongside him.

Xuanzang—his name etched in both legend and history—was no ordinary pilgrim. Long before his tale was dramatized in folklore, he embarked on a formidable quest from China, across the shifting sands of Central Asia, and into the heart of India. His journey, spanning 18 long years, was not just a physical odyssey but a profound search for the purest essence of Buddhism. He walked through four vast landscapes—historical, cultural, spiritual, and deeply personal—documenting with piercing clarity the world as it existed between 602 and 664 AD. At Nalanda University, the intellectual epicenter of ancient Buddhism, Xuanzang studied deeply and emerged with a nuanced, enlightened understanding of the faith he had sought so tirelessly.

When Xuanzang returned to China, his fame had already preceded him. Emperor Taizong, recognizing the monk’s vast knowledge and the reverence he had earned, wished to appoint him to a position within the imperial court. But this was far from Xuanzang’s own vision—his heart was set on sharing the spiritual treasures he had gathered, not on serving in political circles.

The emperor was reportedly displeased by this refusal. Fortunately, a wise intervention came from one of Xuanzang’s relatives, who diplomatically persuaded the emperor to allow him the freedom to document his experiences instead. And so, with imperial blessing, Xuanzang began to write—giving birth to the monumental work known as Records of the Western Regions, a timeless chronicle of his extraordinary journey through lands, cultures, and the soul of Buddhism.

Ironically, while his writings captured a vibrant Buddhist world, time was not kind to the religion in India. Centuries later, Buddhism waned and withered, nearly vanishing from its birthplace. It wasn’t until the era of British India that many of its sacred sites—including Bodhgaya—were rediscovered, largely thanks to the meticulous chronicles left behind by Xuanzang.

In 1999, another traveler—Sun Shuyun—set out to retrace his footsteps. Following the ancient Silk Road from Handan to India and back, she sought to experience what Xuanzang had seen, but her account is painted with the hues of melancholy. So much had changed—lands, peoples, and even faiths. Her narrative, though lengthy, was deeply moving, revealing not only the erosion of time but also the enduring power of one man's devotion to truth.

And in the end, it was not the Monkey King's magic that lingered in my mind—but the quiet, unwavering courage of the monk who walked across worlds to bring enlightenment home.

2025 Reading List

 1. Ten Thousand Miles without a Cloud

-Sun Shuyun (27/09/2025)

2. 80% mindset, 20% Skills

-Dev Gadhvi (05/10/2025)

3. The 10X Rule

-Grant Carson (14/11/2025: 8:51am)

Monday, 8 September 2025

8th September 2025

On September 6th, I wanted my little Norzang to meet my friends Joemar and Mercy, so we reached out to them. They arrived just past one in the afternoon to pick us up, asking if we had any particular plans for the day. I told them we had none—only the simple wish for my son to see them before his departure.

They decided to take us to Metrotown Mall, about a twenty-five–minute drive from our home. Once there, we wandered through shops and shared a meal together. Susan and her family soon joined us, and our gathering grew into a cheerful crowd. Mercy, out of her boundless generosity, purchased several clothes for both Norzang and Chador. At first, I felt a wave of hesitation—our intention was only to let them meet Norzang, not to burden them with such kindness. But their gestures were rooted in love, and we could only accept with heartfelt gratitude. Susan too added to the joy, bringing her own gifts of clothes for Norzang.

Through it all, my little boy remained cheerful and cooperative, radiating a quiet happiness that seemed to reach everyone present. Wherever we go, it feels as though he carries with him a light that brightens the hearts around him. That is Norzang—true to his name, a blessing, just as Rinpoche intended when bestowing it upon him.

Now, only one day remains before his departure. An emptiness has begun to creep quietly into my heart, a hollow space that will deepen once his laughter, his coos, even his cries are no longer by my side. I know I will miss him deeply—every sound, every smile—until the day of his return.

Monday, 1 September 2025

Knight Street

Just eight more days to go, and little Norzang continues to be the heart of every room. His smile—innocent yet mischievous—has become his signature, a memory etched into anyone who meets him.

This long weekend, with Labour Day falling on September 1st, we decided to take him farther from Richmond than ever before since his birth. Our destination was Knight Street, where Norbu Zangmo and Tashi live. The trip was a small adventure in itself: first, the 407 bus till Cooney Road, then a transferred to the 430. The ride was calm, the bus half-empty, and the rhythm of the road almost soothing.

Once we arrived, the day unfolded gently. Norbu Zangmo started preparing a wonderful meal, and together we shared a warm lunch that felt like more than just food—it was togetherness. By evening, around five, it was time to head back. They walked us all the way to the bus stop, a small gesture of affection that never goes unnoticed.

The return, however, was a different story. The 430 was crowded, and Norzang, already deprived of sleep all day, grew restless. His mood shifted quickly; my wife and I tried every trick to keep him entertained, but his fatigue weighed heavier. From Bridgeport we changed the bus, yet his fussiness lingered. Just a few stops before home, he cried in frustration, and we had to work harder to soothe him.

At last, we reached home, bathed him, and watched him finally surrender to sleep. A brief rest for him meant a brief rest for us, too. Later that night, Chador and I slipped out for a quick shop at TNT, leaving Norzang with Kam Dem and Shacha. Yet even then, he was unsettled. The moment we returned, his little face lit up with joy—proof that he has already imprinted his parents’ presence deep in his mind.

But because of his evening nap, sleep at night did not come easy. As always, it ended with us whispering lullabies, guiding him into dreams.

Norzang’s growth—his tiny victories, his stubborn moods, his radiant smile—unfolds like a story I never tire of reading. It is a journey, tender and profound, that I am lucky enough to behold.

Written on September 1st, 2025, at 10:12 a.m., while he was being fed by his mother