Remedy Volume 3 April ‘21
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red pocket. REMEDY VOLUME 3 APRIL ‘21 Letter from Table of the Editor Contents It’s been a difficult time. CONTACT US TRADITIONAL MEDICINE 4 Rena Su Last year was a year of tragedy - tinged by a global pandemic, the death of George Floyd, an anti-Asian hate crisis, and the crushing feeling of being alone. Isolated. Website: A DECEMBER DAY 6 redpocketmagazine.ca Kun Zhu However, Red Pocket Magazine’s team was determined to bring some form of goodness back into these moments. After much deliberation, we decided to encourage others to find “Remedy.” We asked E-mail: BETWEEN THE LINES 8 for stories that showed how we heal from emotions just as we heal from a fever or a headache. [email protected] Sophia Guan I must say, I was truly impressed by the sheer quality of the work we received. Every piece was Facebook: ALL I KNOW 12 beautifully crafted and embodied the message we wanted to convey with “Remedy”. facebook.com/redpocketmagazine Anonymous Submission If you find a soothing herbal broth to be your source of comfort, then Rena Su’s “Traditional Instagram: STANDING OVATION 15 Medicine” and Ian Wu’s “High Fever” might resonate with you. @redpocketmagazine Tiya Tanaka If you’ve ever experienced the long-lasting effects of racial discrimination, you might empathize with TikTok: RESPONSE TO FUSION 16 Jasmin Rostamirad’s “Once Upon a Time”. @redpocketmagazine Diane Huang If you find respite with nature and the outdoors, you might enjoy Beverly Ma’s painting “Fish and DAYLIGHT 17 Leaves” or Kun Zhu’s poem “Daylight”. Kun Zhu I am deeply grateful to all the contributing writers, artists, and Red Pocket team members for making FISH AND LEAVES 18 all of this possible. We hope that Volume 3: Remedy inspires you to heal from all that has been and Beverly Ma what is yet to come. HIGH FEVER 20 Ian Wu Best regards, TWO WORLDS 24 Joyce Xi (She/Her) Vienna Kerfoot Director of Curation Red Pocket Magazine REMNANTS IN THE MORNING 25 Catherine Lieu SHADOWS OF THE PAST 26 Diane Huang PRESCRIPTION 30 Rashmeet Kaur ONCE UPON A TIME 31 Jasmin Rostamirad VOLUME 3: REMEDY 5 Traditional Medicine Poem by Rena Su Collage by Raymund Santos Bitterness is lavender in midwinter, roasting by the fireplace. mugwort-laced mixtures of traditional medicine, dripping into my mouth. Reluctantly or all at once. My mother brings shēngjiāng tea and mixes it with alfalfa honey and drains it down her throat. I pick at her scabs and call it pseudoscience; saying that I will not revere a paper-thin concoction of ginseng & hóngzǎo & goji. That I prefer powder-white pills in translucent boxes. In the outskirts of Chinatown in my city, there is a corner-store baring glass jars of names and prices in indecipherable neon orange calligraphy. In this store there are dried plants & dead bugs & the bitterness is easy to detect. I have always avoided the fish heads with deflated eyes, staring with undead glances no matter which aisle I stand. They seem to judge in incompleteness, positioned there to watch over me at all times. I’m not sure if they guard the store like a secret or if they scare thieves. In this part of town both the weather and the people get colder. The boiling medicine shrivels at the cold and heats up the air. I am drawn to it, a frozen animal clawing towards something that resembles fire. The fire becomes my world and I become a termite drawn to the momentary warmth. In this frigid town with frigid people it is hard to find heat for the winter. But my mother’s imperfect embrace is close enough. The boiling concoctions fill the room and I willingly inhale the bitterness. So be it pseudo-science. So be it bitter. All I want now is to whisper odes to hawthorn & lotus seed & be wrapped & interlocked with the roots of ginseng if they could bandage away the tradition-laced words that hang in my ears and stitch me back in whole. VOLUME 3: REMEDY 7 A DECEMBER DAY Personal Essay by Kun Zhu Illustration by Lisa Wang This was the first day she was permitted to go out- furrowed her brows at the absurdity of the sug- side after the 14 days of quarantine. Half a month gestion. Yet there she was, standing amidst the ago, she arrived home after a 10-month stay in the frosted landscape, deeply rejuvenated by the spa- country of her birth. While the visit was only meant ciousness and quietude of the wintry air. A myriad to last for a month, numerous flight cancellations of snowflakes swirled around her, glimmering like had occurred during her time there. countless infinitesimal fragments that she had previously taken for granted. This was his first year studying abroad. The North- ern land that he found himself upon has yet to Closing his laptop, he removed himself from the begin to feel like a home. Within the first month of desk he was sitting at all day and walked towards arrival, lockdown was announced in his region. All the windowsill. A small blizzard was unravelling of his classes shifted to virtual and his plan to visit outside, the empty street in his view appeared as home during the holiday became subsequently a monochrome scenery painted from charcoal. It cancelled. rarely snowed where he came from. He allowed his thoughts to wander to the geography half a The cultural re-immersion was a wide-eyed expe- globe away. rience, as a different yet familiar history paved the sidewalks beneath her. The street never ceased to Upon returning, the smell of freshly brewed coffee pulse with electricity, while the amorphous sea of infused the interior atmosphere. As she wrapped crowds captured the silhouettes of countless vivid her fingers around the mug, the warmth of the lives. While she appreciated the serendipity along beverage permeated gradually through her skin. the way, she felt increasingly homesick in her She stood quietly in the living room, surrounded motherland. by the familiar furniture and embraced by the comfort of simplicity. There is no remedy like com- You will be able to meet new friends, he told him- ing home, she thought to herself. self whenever the walls of the apartment room felt as though they were enclosing around him, as The ringtone of an incoming call interrupted his soon as all of this is over. In the meantime, he was stream of thoughts. He picked up his phone from caught in disorientation while trying to navigate the desk, the screen lit up and a familiar face ap- through this new chapter in a foreign landscape. peared. “Hi, mama.” The woman on the other end Loneliness lingered in the air like frostbite. He was of the screen beamed like the daylight, capable of unaccustomed to the cold. melting away the invisible tension carried on his shoulders. There is no remedy like the feeling of She trod onto the snow. If someone were to tell her home, he thought to himself. a year ago that she would voluntarily come out- side in the frigid weather, she would have simply VOLUME 3: REMEDY 9 BETWEEN THE LINES Personal Essay & Illustration by Sophia Guan It’s more painful to hear my dad ments, until we are I may refrain from ordering Chi- chokingly utter broken English both rubbed raw nese at restaurants for the rest of beside me, sending the familiar I stumble, poked relentlessly and seething. I am my life, but I will forever remem- wave of embarrassment over me. eight years old and ber how to say Doctor Horse and After a beat, I step into the role I’ve by my mismatched footwear. wondering when we Evil One-Eared Rat, characters of been playing for years: Translator, I’m asked how I’m doing. Stab. will be the barbe- our storytime world. I keep a little interpreter, speaker, and won- que-grilling, game- Chinese, for him. der-er of how much of what I’m Where I’m studying. Stab. night-playing, Christ- saying he truly understands. I feel mas-celebrating Constant rejection in Chinese my throat lock and my tear ducts families in the books builds a case of resentment release with the same key. I borrow at the li- around the language. When I Why I don’t have a boyfriend yet. brary. She is in her late thirties take Mandarin in high school, the It’s in doctor’s office lighting that Our conversations have always Stab. I slink to the shadows on the agonizing over where she went teacher asks me if I already under- we discuss putting our dog down been like this, even in our own balls of my throbbing toes, but my so wrong with me. Ba works late stand it. I shake my black-haired for the first time. He’s our first household when no third party is mom thrusts me into the spotlight into the night. Mom is around, Chinese head, blink my Chinese dog, therefore our first encounter involved—the cogs in our heads for the thousandth time, loudly and therefore can be blamed for eyes, and use my Chinese lips to of even considering the process. whirring wildly as we both try shining the spotlight on my frag- everything. I gleefully overlook her say no because it’s easier than His health issues are rampant our best to translate in our minds mented Chinese, a mix of jeering encouragement of my creativity saying yes. On job applications, and getting more expensive by what exactly we mean in languag- disgust, laughter, and disappoint- and her nurturing care as she sits my pen hovers over the second the minute.