The Other End of the Tunnel

Saturday, March 18; Saturday evening.

This probably was my first time driving throught Holland Tunnel, or at least the first time I could remember. I was stuck in traffic for more than half an hour before entering; as soon as I was inside, the dim light, the off-white walls, even the whirling sound of the air circulation system, vaguely hinted something to me; suddenly I felt lost in the time-space. It felt like I was only minutes' drive from my parents, my home in Shanghai ---- the tunnel is so much like Da Pu Bridge Tunnel. Driving alone, without the interruption of any conversation, I was able to let my thoughts wander. I have always favored a song by Jacky Cheung (张学友), named 纽约的司机驾着北京的梦; however, it could only be a dream, as always. On the other end of the tunnel, how I wished it would be the familiar signs and roads guiding me home; instead, this tunnel was only on my way to pick my wife up at the airport, who just came from the home on the other end of the globe.

I hate to admit I've finally got a bit of homesickness after more than 3 years of no returning. There is even no reason for this hating. Maybe it's only because I'm too aware that even after so many years from home, I can still hardly call this place a home; even if I could visit *home* for several weeks, it is never the same sweet place as before; everything, whatever sweetness deeply planted in my memory, can only be memory forever.