It's quite something

It was the winter of my second year of university. As a student in the Faculty of Letters, I had selected several calligraphy courses, and for some reason, I was well-liked by the elderly calligraphy masters who came from outside to teach.

One of those calligraphy teachers used to invite me to his home and to the temple in Kyoto where he served as the head priest. His wife was also a laid-back and kind person, and I always looked forward to being invited by this couple.

However, the wife passed away due to a sudden illness, and I was taken to the funeral at their home by my university mentor, Professor T, and Ms. M, who was a renowned female calligrapher.

I was shown into a large Japanese-style room, and faced with the teacher's exhausted greeting and the portrait of his kind wife, I was drawn into the sobbing of others and began to cry myself.

My mentor, who had been looking at me with an exasperated expression, eventually urged me, saying, "Well, let's take our leave now." I, too, tried to stand up, though I felt weak.

The next moment, I fell forward with my arms raised in a "banzai" pose, crashing face-first onto the tatami mats. Fortunately, I wasn't injured, but I had fallen with a loud thud and was helped up by the people around me who rushed over. The most surprised person was me, as I had no idea what had happened. Yes, it was the result of sitting in the seiza position for too long, which I wasn't used to.

On the way back to the station, my mentor, who had been smiling bitterly at me as I walked dejectedly, saying, "You really are something," asked Ms. M, who was smiling beside us, "By the way, Ms. M, what do you think of Nakamura's calligraphy?"

"It's quite something."

The calligrapher Ms. M replied with a smile.

I parted ways with Ms. M along the way and headed toward the university's priest residence to join my mentor for dinner.

As we walked side by side, feeling embarrassed about the blunder I had made at the funeral, I tried to say cheerfully to my mentor, "Ms. M praised me by saying it's 'quite something,' didn't she?"

"Listen, remember this well: when a master of that caliber, not just some local calligraphy teacher, tells you it's 'quite something,' it means you're not even worth a second look," Professor T said, looking amused.

That he was right is now clearly proven.