Golden Lessons in Zen

You don't travel to Japan. Japan travels to you

- Aditya Sondhi

I wrote these lines while waiting to board the flight to Narita, in part anticipation and part intuition. Having aborted a trip to watch the Rugby World Cup in 2019 due to typhoon Hagibis, Japan had remained a quiet reminder at the back of my mind. Now, with a week spent in Japan, I wasn't far off the mark. Adrenaline is misplaced here. Like their meditative anthem Kimigayo, the vibe (if you can call it that) is serene, even tranquil. Behind the veil of bustling urban life lies the solid bedrock of a civilisation that is deeply reflective. And with it the yūgen or mysterious beauty of a land that merges a delectable aesthetic with extreme efficiency.

First views from the Narita Express are of homes with seemingly Malnad roofs, cubist, art deco apartments and Mount Fuji watching over the city like an observant grandfather. It is unsurprising that Hokusai and other Japanese artists have been so enamoured with this snowcapped mountain for its intriguing presence close to the capital. River Sumida-gawa gracefully meanders through the entrails of the city. My first impression of Tōkyō city centre was of New York minus the chaos. The Tōkyō Station Gallery had an exhibition of Buddhist and Shinko art traditions, while the Artizon Museum close by had a special on Marie Laurencin, titled An Eye For Her Time. Paris has named its modern art museum Palais de Tōkyō, and Tōkyō returns the favour with an elaborate exhibition of French Cubism at the Museum of Western Art, with signs at the Nijō-jō Castle in Kyōtō in French, apart from Japanese and English.