Festivals in Japan are definitely one of the things people look forward to when coming to Japan, especially in summer. This summer felt heavy and was filled with too much work. Compared to last summer, I managed to travel more and meet more people.

Returning to the topic of festivals, the only two festivals I have ever participated in in Japan are the fireworks festival and the lantern festival. The name itself portrays what the festival is about! I’ve been to several fireworks festivals but only one lantern festival; therefore, this festival is a special memory for me.

When I was invited to the event, I was excited; well, any event in Japan feels exciting, but this is my first lantern festival, so it felt much more exciting. In my head, I was picturing something like the Tangled movie where lanterns would float in the air. But when we arrived at the venue, it was surprisingly a floating lantern on the river! My bad for not even searching for it, but it was still one of the most beautiful scenes I had seen. Of course, no iPhone could capture what my eyes saw that night.

Of course, looking at the lantern was a special moment, but going back home, missing the last train, having to ride a taxi back home (don’t even guess the taxi fare), and taking a very tired picture of us at the end of the made it much more memorable. Now, if I want a reason to smile or laugh, I will just look back at the pictures.

Last but not least, trying something new and unfamiliar will always feel awkward or weird, but we can always learn something from it and create indelible memories in our lives.

It was sweltering. Edogawa, Tokyo. 1st August 2026. 34 degrees celsius.

Thirty-four. How can you possibly frolic around in this heat? With a kimono on top of that.

I did.

I went to see the Edogawa Fireworks Festival with my Sensei from Malaysia. From
Shinozaki Station towards the Edogawa River, I walked until my legs went numb. The
wafting scent of Yakitori and Ikayaki filled the street, mixed with sweat and despair. I was
already tired, and I was parched. My legs are about to give in until my Sensei ever so kindly
lets me stop to get a drink at one of the cafes on the way. All I got was 2 iced teas. Then, we
had to move on. My Sensei said that her student had reserved a seat for us since early
afternoon. I thought she was joking.

Until I saw the whole scene of Matsuri unfolding in front of my very own eyes.

Worse than a rush hour on an average Tuesday morning on the Tozai Line. As bad as
Shinjuku on an everyday basis. It made me question if I’m really the extrovert I thought I
was. I thought I liked people.

People like my Sensei and I were rushing towards the river. One girl dropped her Kanzashi
from her donned bun while scurrying with her lover amongst the crowd. We got them in time
and he picked it up and thanked on her behalf.

A lover, huh.

After 20 grueling minutes, we found Sensei’s student, who is apparently my senpai of a
couple of years. I finally got to sit down. It was by a slope, so it wasn’t so comfortable as I
had to cross over a few picnic mats, avoiding stepping on any of them. (I kind of did,
anyway). Us three sat down, chattered, munched on chips and iced tea until the first high
pitched whistle blared into the Tokyo night sky.

PEW! A bouquet of crimson flowers bloomed like Tsubakis in spring.

Then followed by another. Golden hues followed by green burst into the sky, like Himawaris
on an open field.

And another. They scatter in purple swirls like Ajisais during Tsuyu.

Each flower twinkled in between my irises. Like shooting stars, they travel from my eyes to
the back of my head, sealed away within the walls of my brain where I store my core
memories. Hoping they are all stored there.

Someone once told me that you can’t really choose what you want to remember.

Well, then, I hope to remember the Hanabis for a very, very long time.