Raya Open House

The day that was: 10 September 2010

First day of Raya.

People walking about on the road sides, all draped in colourful attires accentuanating the identity of being uniquely and simply Malay : baju kurung, kebaya and baju Melayu in variant colours- pink, red, maroon, blue, light and dark green, yellow, orange and other strikingly happiness-induced colours, making journeys to their respective destinations all in the joyous mood of celebrating the festive occasion. A sense of conviviality is filling the calm and clear morning air as I drive pass the mingling crowds on both road sides to join a cousin for an open house invitation by a Muslim relative.

I do not quite fancy the idea of sitting through a big crowd and making idle talks but once in a while you have to adapt and accommodate. Mengikat tali silatulrahim, they say. The host has been so kind for preparing vegetarian meals for me. New members are added in the household, the daughter Su is remarried to a quite well-to-do man from Brunei and is five months pregnant now.

Uncle Mohammad Nin as how I address him, is a retired government servant from MUIS, who suffered from stroke two years ago, is thankfully recovering well now, however still a bit weak and easily tired.

Things change and people evolve with the passage of time.

But life goes on..

At night I catch a glimpse of news on TV in the living room reporting the `burning of Al-Quran’ issue to commemorate the 9/11 tragedy in the United States. Why? As if the world needs another provocation of this scale to stir further discord among humanity. There’s another disturbing news of a local self made millionaire businesswoman who with three others have been brutally murdered, their bodies burnt to ashes then scattered in a river in the vicinity.

Sometimes, the mind can only process and absorb this much of information of a violence and cruel nature. You don’t know if you can quite decipher the next similar content of event about to be unfolded, without your mind quickly retreat to a shut-down mode. Yes you feel sad and anger at the tragedy of others but you know after a good night sleep, your thought would quickly focus on something new and all the negative emotions somehow manage to crawl to the back of your mind, and because you have to attend to matters of your own, as well as those around you.

But tonight, still fresh from all the get-together and merrymaking where you participated earlier in the day, you feel that the celebratory moods of the festive season seem to have formed a veil over the gloomy and somber ambience due to what have been transpired via the TV screen in the living room, and outside the sense of joy and gratitude brought about by the festivity are in copious supply, and it demonstrates a contagious spread such that it is now influencing your current state of mind.

And it will tomorrow too.


Third aunt, with her mischievous pose, aunt fr.Bongawan, her friend and SiewYang Ko.
A very affable SiewYang Ko (aunt), the host of Raya Open House

A group photo in front of Siew Yang Ko's house

Lau Fu

This old man died a lonely death in an old folk home, in August 2007.

Days ago, I slipped out from the office during working hours and made a trip to the funeral parlour to pay my last respect to a 98-years old man, his name was Lau Fu, who died the previous night in Sri Prichard Home, Kinarut. The charity body which I am in is helping to pay the funeral expenses for his body to be cremated.

More than three years ago, a kind-hearted businessman discovered this old man living alone in a dilapidated small hut near a drain in front of a shop in Lido township. Our charity organization then helped him to apply for admission to the old folk home. He was eventually accepted to the home and I still remember days before Chinese New Year in 2006, we paid a visit to the home to deliver some food items and distributed `Ang Pows’ to the elderly people residing in the home. He was very happy to see our presence and immediately started a conversation with the group of us surrounding him, reminiscing vividly stories of his younger days. I just kept nodding and smiling while he talked even though I did not quite understand his words for he spoke only Cantonese, his speech blurred with heavy Hongkongese accent. But I just wanted to let him know that he got the attention he desired. He came from Hong Kong during his youth and settled down in Sabah, working menial jobs to earn a living until old age rendering him jobless, depending then on hand-outs from the public to sustain his life. I heard that during his younger days he had wasted his savings on gambling, alcohol as well as women however remained single throughout his life. Even though you might think that he deserved this consequence but one would feel too sympathetic with his present condition to want to remember his past misdeeds.

There was a somber mood and gloomy air hanging over the funeral parlour when I entered a small room where his body was being laid. His mouth slightly agape. I thought his complexion was much darker than when he was alive, may be the workers at the parlour did not bother to apply make-up on him. I just stood beside his coffin to offer a prayer, verses from a Heart Sutra, wishing that he would soon find peace, wherever it may be. Compared to the bigger funeral room next door where there were a huge crowd of people of family and friends saying good-bye to their departed one, with hanging lanterns properly lit up and an enlarged photo of the deceased sitting nicely on a table, couple with ceremonial banners bearing eulogy messages and words of praise for the departed and elaborate display of wreaths of all colours forming a long line in the room, this tiny room in contrast, which was a temporary resting place for this old man, was devoid of any decorations befitting the funeral ceremony for the dead, no portrait nor banner with words of eulogy, but only small plateful of food items on display on a small table with few joss sticks sticking out from the incense pot…..

It’s a heart-rending scene, in his late life as in death, loneliness seemed to frequent this elderly man much more often than other men of his age, now I wish that the presence of the few of us from the organization would somehow comfort his departed soul, that he was not left to feel lonely, to think that he had been accorded a proper good-bye for his departure to the next life.

My heartfelt good-bye to you elderly `Lau Fu’. You had lived a ripe old age at 98, but I think this was not the way you had intended your life to be. And if you’d think you had passed through this life alone, let’s me pray that in your next life, you’ll be a better person, you’ll find the love of your life and surrounded by people close to you. Most of all, you’ll discard those old habits of gambling, alcohol and womanizing but instead focusing your attention on your spiritual life, spreading the message of love and peace to the people around you, and when you have come to the end of your journey, you are satisfied to think that you have not wasted a single moment of your life, but lived a fulfilled and meaningful existence compared to your past life. So you bid this earth good-bye, not again in this pathetic state, but with pride and glory you depart this world to enter into another cycle of a more noble rebirth perhaps…

Your death indeed serves as a mirror upon which I must contemplate and reflect the rest of my life’s journey on.. ..

Blind man

Years ago, on a bus trip home, he caught my attention…

In a bus on a cold day,
observing passengers getting on and off,
at every stop,
while outside it’s pouring.

I notice a blind man,
a walking stick in his hands
calmly and melodiously humming along,
to a disturbingly loud Hindu song played in the bus.
He’s lost his vision
but not his joyous spirit for life.

At an undesignated stop,
a school boy gets on,
taking a seat beside him,
his uniform’s completely drenched,
and he’s shivering in cold.

The blind man enquires, gently,
why is he getting soaked to the skin?
with a fatherly concern he says
please get yourself changed,
once you’re home.

From a man who’s been deprived of the faculty of sight,
there is still a little room within him,
to shower kindness and compassion upon others,
for in blindness,
he sees with his heart…




photo by : dmgifford

“A blind man knows he cannot see, and is glad to be led, though it be by a dog; but he that is blind in his understanding, which is the worst blindness of all, believes he sees as the best, and scorns a guide”
-Samuel Butler-

Dana offering

The day that was : 29 August 2010

We were in Tuaran town, participating in Dana offering ceremony to a group of bhikkhus and bhikkhunis, 26 of them, along the five foot ways of Tuaran shophouses on a Sunday morning. Together with brothers Liew koko, Ah Chai and sister. The simple act of kneeling down and respectfully making an offering to this spiritual community of Sangha lining up the pavement to receive your offerings induces such feeling of serenity and gratitude within myself. As I extended my palms, I tried to visualize the tranquil countenance of the Great Buddha sitting in a meditating posture on a lotus seat above, accompanied by Boddhisatvas on both sides while radiating pure white light to His sacred community of ordained as well as lay disciples on the ground, many of whom are eagerly seeking his spiritual guidance and continued blessings to try to lead a pure and enlightened existence in their respective life paths. As I finished giving away the small packets of rice , I joined my palms to whisper prayer for sharing of merits and felt little droplets of tears begin to fill my eyes. It must be tears of gratitude, I think, knowing that at the moment of extending alms I have been truly blessed..

A while later we had our breakfast of mee tuaran and porridge at a nearby kopitiam and as we were contentedly and hurriedly feeding the growling stomachs, an elderly man donning a songkok was seen making his round, begging for a little goodwill from patrons crowding the premises to part with their money but his undignified presence was entirely ignored. He might not possess the glowing light and spiritual attainment as displayed by the community of Sangha, but I could afford him a small amount of dana to enable him to sustain his life, in dignity. Besides, having understood the virtue of giving via Dana offering how could we have the heart to turn down a needy elderly? With a sense of humility, I thus gave him a few ringgits, with the belief that his plight was indeed what he has portrayed himself to be, and that I was helping to lessen the suffering of another human being.

And because in giving, there’s a little part in ourselves that we learn to let go, and that empty part is now being filled with a little richness in spirituality…


Some photos:

A favourite quote

When you are content to be simply yourself and don't compare and compete, everybody will respect you.

-Lao Tzu-

My old trusted Proton Wira

Here she is, my old trusted friend. My first and only car.

My younger sister purchased this way back in 1997, after the accident which tragically claimed the life of my aunt and totally reduced her white Proton Iswara to a pathetic irreparable wreck. She left for Taiwan in 2001 leaving the car hence the responsibility to service the loan repayments to me, where at that time I had just managed to obtain a driving licence (after sitting for the test a second time) and was still experiencing many bitingly nerve wracking moments every time driving on the road.

Nine years on and after an approx. RM25K repayments later, she is still this reliable mode of transport driving me to and from works, grocery shoppings and running errands and the innumerable more- than- two- hours balik kampung trips.
Over the years, I have seen one my close friends changing from one car to another and the very recent being an expensive model, whereas I am still driving around in my aged old grey colour Proton Wira.

Sigh. T___T

To be frank, the sight of her very chic looking metallic black Honda City does increase my materialistic desire to want to get a new car of my own. Yes my very own car (the Wira is still rightfully belong to my sister as it was registered under her name). But having to pay my housing loan is already a big commitment and a new car would definitely be an added burden which I reckon will in no time weigh down heavily on me.

So I try to re-assess the condition of my car:

: Yes the colour has began to show wear and tear especially on certain parts of the rooftop the skin has already peeled off due to the prolonged exposure to the relentless sun at open parking areas.

: Many ugly scratch marks as a result of EITHER those naughty kids who like to loiter around the car park areas at my apartment building during night times, whom having nothing to do might have decided to derive a little `sadomasochistic’ pleasure by creating some scratch marks using God-know-what sharp objects, OR a result of my terrible parking skills (accidentally brushing against the sides of some stationary cars when attempting to park my car)

: time flies and tides ebb, sentient beings grow old and become frail and fragile so does the condition of a car even more so after a good 13 years on the road, loyally rendering its service without fail or interruptions, except on perhaps one or two occasions, even these were due to faults of my own. It has gone through many repair and maintenance works, hurting my pockets by the many thousand ringgits. But still she is resilient and low maintenance (well I guess) for so far not a major service is required.

The boss (aka my brother) at the workshop where I often send my car for service kindly told me that the car does require a major overhaul to replace its engine as it is no longer fuel efficient, besides producing thick black smokes when being driven up a very steep and winding road for a long distance, on her maiden trip to National Park, that is .

I think after all these years, it is high time my trusted Wira be given the much deserved brand new engine, facelift and all.

But amidst all these, she is still my very trusted grey colour old Proton Wira, faithfully rendering her service and making my journey a worry-free and comfortable one.

My safe bubble.

Also for the time being, she’s all that I can afford, the reason I would not settle for more. -___-

And so I have managed to eradicate another craving for worldly possessions. Good for my spiritual well being, I guess. 0__0

A Bodhi plant

A small Bodhi plant sprouting from the corner of my balcony of my apartment. I did notice its presence for quite some time but never knew it was a Bodhi plant until a Venerable tze fu who came to my apartment pointed to me that it looked like a Bodhi tree but she wasn’t too sure then. Another friend later confirmed that it was.

There’s perhaps no significance of any sort to have such a plant in your house. But its mere existence is suffice to bring a little joy for me as a Bodhi tree is a sacred symbol in Buddhism as it was under such a tree that the Buddha became enlightened, and whose great teachings we have seeked and continued to follow to guide us through this life path.

I do cherish the presence of this perceived life-giving Bodhi plant as my sole company during the many solitary moments sitting by myself from inside the metal-grilled balcony looking outside at the very limited expanse of greenery, with the daily characteristic chirpings of birds and crickets as though belting out melodious tunes, to welcome the breaks of dawn and the setting of dusk in this great circle of life…


Bodhi plant outside the balcony



Another outside my bedroom's window