Free

Bring her to this field of exuberant color and grandeur,
let her hum a medley of joyous tunes,
as she darts across the narrow lane in warm uncontained glee,
leaving a trail of crumpled leaves and rattling twigs,
worry being systemically crushed beneath her soft rhythmic footsteps.

As dawn descends,
tiny points of twinkling shiny light,
delicately decorate this canopy of dreamy heaven,
she gazes upon the illuminating moon,
and marvels at the eloquent beauty of nature,
is this wishful thinking? She asks.
now in a faraway place,
her heart sees a Neverland of promises,
where dreams will be realized,
and she yearns to fall among the star..

REALITY needs to momentarily stay clear from her territory,
just for this little while, she pleads softly,
where she is all alone,
gingerly cocooning herself in a land of make believe,
and smiling her warm glowing smile,
she’ll spend some tender loving moments,
with her once too often neglected inner child…

An evening with Royal Sabah Turf Club

Way back a year ago.

The day that was : 1 October 2010

I was having a stressful day at work for missing an important official document and have searched high and low yet of no avail. Several calls were made to ensure the documents has indeed been returned to me and I was inevitably exhausted by all the worry and unsettled thoughts until when it almost come to the end of the day where I managed to figure its whereabout, inside a printer where I had meant to scan it the day before, but the procedure did not work out and I forgot to take it out from the machine. -___-

When your mind is out of focus, things like this do happen. And you end up wasting the whole of your precious time trying to disentangle the mess, physically and mentally, brought about by your occasional lack of attentiveness when performing your duties at work.

It was drizzling when after work I drove to Sutera Harbour to attend a dinner function, I was representing KKCF, the charity organization which I am in, to receive donation from Royal Sabah Turf Club during its Annual Dinner as well as Gold Cup race 2010. Very tired and a little haggard looking, I decided to head to the rest room to put on some foundation and lipstick. Some pretty girls were inside the room, all of whom were impeccably made up and dressed stylishly. I observed a girl who was engrossed in taking pictures at the reflection of her image at the mirror, in a vain effort to immortalize her beauty into timeless youth and eternity.

And now there’s a new word for this, in the online world at least : camwhoring. -__-

A staff member of the Club led me to a table where I settled down after shaking hands and introducing myself to the guests at the table, all from different charitable bodies coming here with the same purpose as mine.

The dinner function commenced with some opening speeches from invited dignitaries, then dinner was served and some programmes lined up to entertain the guests; a singing band got onstage with their quite pleasing renditions of evergreen songs of yesteryears from the likes of numbers by Elvis Presley to those of the Beatles.

The evening progressed with the donations presentation ceremony where each of the names of the charitable bodies were called out and the representatives asked to come to the stage. I received the donation from Datuk Edward Yong who gently asked in Chinese whether it was `KK Tze Chi’ I was representing. I said yes. For more than a decade Kota Kinabalu Charitable Foundation has carved a name for its generosity to reach out to the poor and needy, near and afar, irrespective of race and religions. I felt blessed to be able to be a part of the group, even in a less active role now.

A magic show was presented afterwards by a teenaged magician. In an instance our minds were entirely hypnotized, our vision similarly deluded by the perceived grandeurs concocted by this young girl, churning out tricks after tricks while performing slick and alluring dance moves accompanied by a fast-paced Indian song, all with the sole intention to entertain and mesmerize such that we were constantly spellbound into believing that what were merely illusionary images, were indeed the real things.

And during those spellbinding moments, I truly felt like an impressionable and innocent five years old all over again.

Later, a fashion show was put up by the same girls whom I encountered earlier in the restroom, they are all winners of various titles from beauty pageants in and around the state, parading their beauty as well as willowy figures on stage with casual clothes, swimwears and evening gowns. These girls appeared to be a little flattered at the attention being showered upon them by the audience, and flesh was bared a little when they sashayed down the makeshift runway during the swimwear segment to the glee and excitement of the male crowd all were seen and heard wooing in sheer delight.

I couldn’t quite fathom as to whether a middle-aged man who suddenly rushed to the stage to present a flower as well as kisses on the cheek for one of the beauties was lured by his drunkenness or his mere desire to get a little closer to the girl, and her skin, for that matter.

Perhaps his frustration at his impending advanced in years would somehow be soothed by the presence of this girl, and she was his best answer to showcase the last vestige of his youth?

As the evening wore on, one of the VIPs was invited to perform and with his powerful voice churned out some melodious English numbers. A guest at the table informed us that he was the father of popular Taiwanese star Gary Chou Ke. Out of curiosity I quickly performed a scrutiny of his appearance from afar and indeed found a slight resemblance to his famous son.


Now that was the closest I could get to a superstar, vicariously through a fatherly figure, literally. -__-

After the lucky draw session I made my way home . It has been a very tiring day but I was nonetheless contented to be able to fill in the invitation on behalf of the Foundation, an organization that’s close to my heart, for a good cause.

When I got back to my apartment it was in total darkness. Power failure is a normal occurrence here at my place. Knowing this, I have got myself ready with candles in the kitchen. We should never trust the power company for making claims that they are doing their utmost to make our lives convenient.

It’s just an empty promise.

There is something being in pitch-blackness which would immediately elicit a perpetual sense of fear and hopelessness in me, like there’s something lurking in the darkness that would come out to intimidate and knock the life out of me. If I am rational enough, I will understand that it is just this unfounded paranoia triggered by my own feelings of insecurities and the fear of the unknown. The fact that my house was broken into once only serves to intensify the helplessness in me.

But sleep would soon alleviate those feelings…

Stray dog

A stray dog loitering around the road outside of our office compound, the route which I travel every day to and from work. This dog is emaciated and suffering from serious skin infection (ringworm) exposing a large part of his scaly skin, signs that he’s mostly been neglected and lacks of nutrition.

Hence, on some days while travelling back home, I stop by the road side to offer this poor creature some food (mostly economy fried beehun/mee I bought early morning to work) to feed his hunger. He was a little apprehensive at first but after a while began to anticipate the treats , and would recognize my presence from afar while I stopped my car by the side of the road, and immediately scurrying toward my direction, albeit in weak and unsteady steps.

Some passersby would smile at me which I took as a sign of their approval , that they saw it fit that a hungry animal be given food to fulfill its very basic need to survive.

Buddhism preaches compassionate loving kindness to all sentient beings, from the highest level to the lowest below, all should be accorded the same treatment and granted a little spot of their own to seek for growth and survival and ultimately emancipation from sufferings.

And this sorry-looking stray dog, I believe just likes us humans, is also seeking some little loving kindness to make this place a wee bit better to live on…

Teary-eyed

Monday at the work place strangely turned out to be pretty quiet and stress-free for me .

Back in the evening and after spending time doing some house chores and cooking, I found little moments to unwind in the living room by watching a TV talk show from mainland China, which I earlier downloaded, on my laptop.

I cried and cried while watching `Xing Fu Mo Fang’ , which this episode revolved around a middle-aged woman seeking the assistance of the show hoping the host with the help of psychologist and members of the internet audience would be on hand to help her in advising her pregnant unwed daughter to give up her decision to keep the unborn child, knowing full well the pain and hardship her daughter has to endure in raising a child on her own.

Her daughter’s relationship with the man she knew since childhood ended in tragedy when he died from a car accident in a trip back home with his girlfriend, but his death could have been avoided if he did not try to shield his lover from the possible fatal impact of the crash. His lover after recovering from the serious injury, has discovered that she was pregnant and resolved to keep the baby, emphasizing adamantly that her unborn flesh and blood being her only link to her lover and her only life line to keep going in life, her decision however was met with serious objection from her mother, who did not want the girl to end up like herself raising her child single-handedly when her husband died months after she gave birth to the girl.

The show moved on with the participants i.e., the girl and her mom at painful loggerheads , and a childhood male friend who came to profess his long unrequited love for the girl and was willing to marry her as well as to accept her unborn child as his own, with his understandably worried mother, sitting outside the `magic cube’ readily objecting to the proposal.

Sadness, pining for lost love, anger and desperation slowly and intermittently played out in a juxtaposition mix of emotions which I belief have been carefully choreographed to arouse the interest of the TV audience in a bid to increase viewership, their exact purpose of which has been successfully achieved, if my emotional reaction is any indication for measurement.

I wonder as to why the salty liquid in my gland is so easily induced , and if these tears are an indication of my emotional fragility, then while developing a sense of empathy and crying over the plight of others, I should be also at the same time looking within myself to find the source of my weaknesses while seeking for that elusive inner strength which will help me see through the journey of my life with crystal clear eyes, and a stronger heart.

But sometimes, all we need is a little empathy to make us feel we are not alone.

That once in a while it is ok for me to feel all vulnerable and emotional like this.

Just because I am after all, only human..

Inspirational words

The day that was : 6 October 2011

Some times ago I came across an inspirational speech from Steve Jobs and it immediately found a place in a little corner of my heart.

Today when I clicked on the Yahoo webpage I was immediately greeted with the death of the Apple Founder. It again struck a chord in my heart.

I am brought to my own sense of mortality, yet again.

To quote his words `Death is a destination we all share’

The world has lost an icon in his field, whose amazing brilliance had forever transformed our lives.

But I don’t want to feel low nor melancholy.

I just want to put his words in here, just to remind myself how I should not let time pass me by without trying to accomplish something meaningful each day, however small and insignificant that something is.

And try to follow my heart.

May his soul rest in peace.

Steve Jobs:

Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.

Remembering that I’ll be dead soon is the most important tool I’ve ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything — all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure – these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.

Color me Tuesday

The day that was : 27 September 2011

It was drizzling when I got myself ready to work early in the morning.

Not a good day for me where in between works I let my thoughts shift and drift far and away, pondering and weighing and analyzing and rationalizing.

And if only I could..

But reality told me right at this moment is where I should be, where I belong.
At least for now this is what I should be settling for.

I turned from my desk and looked out the window and what brought to my view was the limited expanse of greenery and other incongruous landscapes in the distance, co-existing in harmony and basking in the persistence drizzle, with occasional heavy showers in between.

And tree leaves and branches swaying gracefully in the gentle wind .

This, lifted up my tattered spirit almost in an instance.

Nature and its perceived grandeur always possesses this unfathomable ability to soothe and comfort me.

I let out a long sigh, and quietly issued a silent reprimand to myself.

I want to gather all my inner strength to LEARN to live in the moment.

For it’s what matters to me now.

A little introspection towards the end of colorless Tuesday.

It ironically brought back a little color and perspective to my slightly deprived soul..

Zhong Qiu

The day that was : 12 September 2011

It’s the Mid-Autumn festival, or Zhong Qiu festival . There were not much activities in the office and my work routines progressed at a rather snail’s pace. Allowing myself some breaks, I surfed the internet and read a heart-rending post by a blogger dedicated his writings specially to his close buddy who was killed during the 11/9 tragedy. And it’s been 10 years since the catastrophe, but as memory of images of twin towers slowly disintegrating and crumbling to the ground being brought back to mind, there’s somehow a sense of relief to know that this very same place which was once shrouded in utter fear and chaos in the aftermath of 9/11 has seemed to somehow regain a semblance of normalcy.

But with the passing of another anniversary I pray that those who have been affected by the tragedy will be dragged a little further from those painful memories, and instead choose to remember this very poignant event in their lives by embracing the days ahead with renewed hopes and dreams.

Because putting personal tragedy behind in order to move forward, albeit taking one tiny step at a time, is a prerequisite for living and, above all, an intrinsic part of life.

But death is also an intrinsic part of life...

I saw my boss descending the stairs clasping a newspaper under his arm at about 4.00pm and I ‘d wonder whether he’d decided to go back home early to celebrate the festival with his family.

If only he would allow us to go back 1 hour and 45 minutes earlier, it would have made us very happy.

But sometimes, you can’t expect too much generosity from your boss.

Zhong Qiu should be a time for merry-making and happy feelings but being affected by this one post I have read , I came to ponder about my own mortality and death in its own sense and decided to sneak a little time in between the mundane tasks at work by writing a letter to a Venerable Tze Fu who is now in Burma.

Dear Tze Fu,

Amitofu, how are you?

Time really flies while we are busy with life, now that it’s been close to one year since you left for Burma, I would not have noticed the swiftness with which time moves have I not stopped in my track for a while to ponder about people around me , and about you.

Just last Saturday I went to City Vege Restaurant and met with Lee Fang Tze Jie and asked her about you and how’s you’ve been doing. It’s nice to hear a little about you from her and the fact that you have been and are doing well in Burma. I believe you must have shown so much progress in your quest for spiritual attainment.

Indeed, both Yee2 and me ( I have related the news to her) are happy for you.

Yee2 is currently sill in the village. In fact she rarely comes down to KK unless there’s a need to attend to some urgent matters. She told me while she hasn’t yet determined as to the path to tread on she would treasure her time by paying more attention to her spiritual practice. Indeed the quietness and serene atmosphere in the village is a conducive environment to practice the Buddha’s teachings. Within weeks from each other recently she has received news of the passing away of her two close friends from Yuan Kuang, one a Tze Fu and the other her course mate, both gone before their time due to cancer. I sensed her sadness upon hearing the news but while she has to bear with the lingering loss she told me it also helps to strengthen her resolve to not waste time and to diligently follow the spiritual path.

I must admit the news of the deaths of her two friends have somehow also affected me and it made me think deeply about the impermanence of life and how we must not waste time to strive to add meaning to our lives by performing good deeds for the good of our own, and of others.

Last month Yee2 and I have together with family members and friends made a trip to Santavana Hermitage to make offerings to the monks and we were happy to be able to meet up with Kai Ying Tze Fu and the rest of the community of Bhikkhus and Bhikkhunis as well as to have a little chat and it’s indeed nice to be able to see them again.

Today being ZhongQiu festival in Malaysia. Do the Burmese people celebrate this festival in Burma too?

Till then, wishing Tze Fu a happy `Zhong Qiu’ and may Tze Fu be well and happy.

With Metta,
CJ

In the evening at my apartment, I thought of loved ones back home while eating my bowl of hastily prepared instant noodles and gazed at the full moon outside which was partially hidden behind some moving black clouds, it’s still looked beautiful despite the veil of darkness and I naively thought maybe I could capture a glimpse of its image via the lens of my digital camera but just as I returned to the balcony with the device the moon has already disappeared into the dark horizon.

Ah the transience of all things beautiful, soothing, and comforting..

This Zhong Qiu despite without its requisite elements, did bring forth in me a sense of calm, and contentment.

For it’s been a meaningful journey for me so far…

Of 4D and a million ringgit

I bought RM8 worth of lottery tickets in Beaufort, my hometown while going back to visit my parents on a weekend. My bet was a 4D , and 6D Toto (my first time), the 6D being a combination of numbers made up of the birth dates of my siblings and myself. I sheepishly asked the lady at the counter whether that was how I should arrange the numbers, to which she nodded in an unperturbed manner, while an elder Chinese man behind me glanced over my shoulder with somewhat a look of slight amusement on his face.

I have been placing bets on these lottery tickets on some weekends these days. Without luck of course. I remember my first and only win dated way back in the 90s where I bought two tickets upon spotting the number atop the bus on which Keanu Reeves was on while trying to save a group of hostages inside a city bus which contained a time bomb set by a terrorist, in the movie SPEED. In 1994 to be exact.

I can still remember the thrills and excitement of watching the movie with a friend. How I adored Keanu Reeve (and still do!) and Sandra Bullock then after watching them for the first time on screen.

But time wisely executes its own SPEED while the majority of us are toiling away in obscurity, dealing with LIFE’S various issues , events big or small , without even pausing to look back to where we are.

And if we ever decide to make a little effort to really pause, that previously unnoticed fact in an instance immerses to stare right back at us with glaring intensity .

Of the swiftness with which time moves.

I digress.

The fact that lottery outlets have throngs of people lining up everyday willing to spare their hard-earned cash to bet have undisputedly testified to us of its charm to entice us into believing that we all have the opportunity, however thin it is, to strike it rich.

Because we never want to lose hope that one fine day luck will finally find us, and the winnings will undoubtedly help us alleviate whatever financial troubles that we are experiencing at that particular time.

Perhaps to redeem our lost pride of so frequently having to tread behind the shadows of success and opportunity, which often times elude us, yet granted amply upon others.

Or to help us pursue whatever dreams that we may not be able to realize due to monetary constraints, in addition to nestling in the lap of luxuries and live the life we desire.

But even though the odds of winning is as slim as the possibility of finding a lost needle beneath the deep ocean, it does not stop us to continue betting, hoping against all odds that one day, the angel of good luck will indeed pay us a visit.

Even though hope and dreams are like that mischievous little child often times hiding behind the veil of distorted reality.

Now, if only I can win a million ringgit. Sigh.

But I will continue to bet .

Just because one fine day in 1994 a dear young me had had the taste of winning RM180in lottery tickets, which in that moment made her feel like a million ringgit! ^__^

Spiritual food for thought

On a quiet evening, just to remind myself, we are far from perfect, and in our effort to seek improvements within ourselves, and strive to become a better individual, we also learn to accept and embrace the imperfections in others..

When you find yourself judging someone,
Look for what in yourself you are not willing to accept..
hold that part of you more gently.

-Robyn Posin-

Chaotic maze

The day that was : 27 March 2011

A nephew bought a plastic bag of fresh water prawns from a stall on way back to my parents’ house in kampung after a trip to the cemetery during Qing Ming. These prawns were meant to end up as a dish for lunch. I took a peek and saw some of the prawns were still alive, wriggling and gasping for air. which I assumed they were caught not long ago. I was actually thinking maybe I could still save their lives by releasing them into the river not far from the house however agonized as to how to relay my intention to my nephew, him being a Muslim (my cousin himself a convert Muslim) and has little knowledge about fang sheng.

When I returned from collecting some pandan leaves nearby and had by then already made up my mind about telling my nephew of my intention to purchase the prawns from him, I found it a little too late as my aunt was already half way through getting the prawns ready for cooking. But I managed to secretly scoop up the few remaining wiggling ones and put them in a small basin of water , then made my way into the river and released them.

I slipped and fell while climbing up the muddy river bank, my track suit and slippers collected plenty of mud and I got lost while navigating my way home. I was in a daze , unable to believe that what used to be an endearing playground in my younger days has now been completely transformed into a foreign territory, of sort.

My siblings and I used to frequent this river almost on daily basis to bath and play and collect drinking water during drought seasons. I have not been to this river for so many years since I left home to pursue my studies later work in KK, but what had been a familiar sight and route has now turned into a pretty different sight, the river has changed its topography and I no longer could identify the place where we used to playfully ride on our neighbor’s sampan or helping my mother to wash the laundry while sitting on the rakit placed beside the river bank, with my mother listening to stories of our cheekiness in school told by our primary school’s teacher, who happened to be our good neighbor.

It used to be a well-tended path surrounded by rubber trees leading to the river, but it is now sadly being replaced by some overgrown bushes to the extent I could no longer tell the whereabout of the only house which used to stand where it was.

I came away from this slightly chaotic maze of confusion, but not without a lingering sense of melancholy that things and places, just like people and life itself, are subject to change and evolution, and what remains akin to only shattered glass shrapnels here and there, but which when pieced together, would form a big picture providing inadvertent clues to fragments of stories from the past.

Because time ironically stands still amidst the meandering shadows which we long left behind.

And that which we treasure and cherish is only a memory of what it used to be…

The river

some photos from Qing Ming:



We are one big family.

Papa offering a prayer for my late ma.

Me, laying some food for offering for a dear aunt, who passed away in a car accident more than a decade ago.
Niece Kewei using a brush & red paint to attentively rewrite the inscription on the tomb.

A story of zhenzhu nai cha

It was a Friday.

My niece called as I was about to call it a night, feeling tired and with back pains. She said she wanted to drop by my house to give me something. A while later there was a knock at the door. As I opened it there she was standing outside holding a small plastic bag containing a cup of pearl milk tea. Turned out she had gone out earlier with friends for a `yum cha session’ and on her way back after giving her friend a lift decided to turn to my place to give me this `takeaway’.

I must admit, I felt a little touched by this.

So on that quiet night, I sipped through the straw of the cup of iced Pearl milk tea, alone, but not lonely, with a warm and fuzzy feeling inside, comforting myself that all would be well and despite at times dealing with insecurity issues and feeling like a tiny speck of dust amidst this vast humanity, somewhere, somehow, I was remembered….

Not sober

Many years ago, while having a bowl of fish noodle in a kopitiam in Jalan Gaya, a man caught my eyes, and I wrote down my thoughts of him, in a little note book.

On a Sunday afternoon,
what is on your mind, I wonder?
I see five big empty bottles of beer on a coffee table,
Where you sit by, with a companion,
at a corner of a local coffee shop…

The ceiling fan’s spinning furiously,
But it seems to me you have sank back into total oblivion,
perhaps the smooth operations of your senses have been obliterated by the flow of liquor from your mouth, to every direction in your veins?

You are immersed in your own little space,
I initially thought that the glow in your eyes equates a certain vigilance,
but it turns out to be simply inebriated stares,
hidden behind are perhaps a feeling of desperation and hopelessness,
and you are trying to numb these feelings by emptying bottle upon bottle of liquor,
as I can see .

You stare blankly at the noisy crowd, meandering souls around you,
but I don’t think you really feel their existence,
because you have been entirely hypnotized by the very presence of liquor,
which has acquired an undisputed dominion over the space in your life for now…

But you seem happy and calm.
But I figure its just this game of illusion manifesting itself,
by influencing your subconscious mind into translating these expressions,
on your outer skin…

You don’t care about what others think of you,
even I myself have formed this judgment about you,
oh how I shouldn’t.
You think it’s sweet,
on your part, this perceived divine intoxication of the mind body and soul.

I have finished my noodles,
Another empty bottle is added to the table,
I think its going to be an extended session,
You have fallen deep in your drunken slumber,
I wonder, when tomorrow comes,
When the traces of alcohol slowly diminish,
will you again regain sobriety,
to face the day with renewed hope and promises?

I am leaving now,
I have only these few hours left,
tomorrow’s another working week,
I desperately crave a good rest,
There’s certainly no room for drinking session like this,
even if I so wish.

Do have a good time while you are at it.
Its funny though,
my observation of you,
have brought about a lingering emptiness, in me…..
you have slowly and moderately drunk the life out of this bitter liquid,
like a lost and inebriated soul you are,
Yet it’s ain’t poetry…

Feeding pigeons

A few pigeons wander around my balcony early morning while I get myself busy cooking lunch for work, producing melodiously captivating cooing sounds as if to remind me to hurry up. They do it for a reason. I have been feeding these birds with cracked corn feed for quite some time on the balcony of my first-floor apartment. Initially there were only two or three pigeons linger about the space with the frequent presence of sparrows and other small birds. But I eventually had to stop feeding on the advice of a friend as the bird droppings had caused pretty much an eyesore, and unhygienic, plus the fact I did not have time to clean it out every day, yet this did not deter the birds from coming back each morning, waiting faithfully in anticipation for their feed. I felt pity for them and I just didn’t have the heart to turn them down.

So what was only a casual act to ensure the few hungry birds get some food, has now been transformed into a small mission on my part to routinely spread the feed on the ground near the parking area of my apartment block, every morning before I drive to work. But the spreading of the cracked corn has somehow managed to attract the keen eyes of their peers hence it’s now grown into a frock of twenty and sometimes thirty and more pigeons, which can be seen every morning perching precariously on the roof tops and window panes of my neighbors’ apartments, waiting patiently for the time to fly down to the ground the moment I distant myself from the feeding zone.

I do question myself sometimes if my act of habitually feeding this frock of pigeons and other little birds would make them more dependent of easily available feed, in the process depriving them from using their natural instinct to search for food? In some countries for instant there are signs placed in the parks to advise visitors not to feed the birds for fear that they might eventually lose their abilities to fend for themselves especially during winter times where very few people will venture out to feed them.

But I told myself our country is blessed with moderate climate. If one day I stop feeding these birds I do believe someone else will.

So now cracked corn feed is a must- buy item in my sundry shopping list.

But it is also heart warming for me to think that this little act of giving has helped add a little sparkle and shine to my otherwise monotonous daily routines.

And every morning if time permits, I will watch from a distance at these little birds contentedly feasting on their treats, it somehow soothes and induces a feeling of calm in me.

I guess it must be due to this sense of contentment from within, knowing that I am able to give, however little,
and from this at times neglected fact that we receive much more than we give.

The very source of nourishment to our soul..

The voice from within

I have been severely lacking in physical activities, and couple with a sedentary lifestyle this has slowly produced the inactiveness in me. So I decided to take a long overdue stroll to the neighbourhood in one of the weekends, during a quiet and uneventful Sunday evening.

As I casually and aimlessly strolled by, I noticed the flickers of light from within the living rooms of some of the houses. Indication that the TV sets had been switched on. The same scene repeated itself as I walked pass the many houses lined both sides of my path - people getting themselves glued to the sound and images produced from the electronic sets which seemed to be playfully and tantalizingly diverting the attention of the few who were doing nothing however dreamily immersing in their thoughts, while some folding their laundries whereas others feeding the babies or even just feeding themselves, displaying their multi-tasking skills at best.

People can’t seem to be able to separate themselves from the external images and noises which they have for the longest time associated themselves with, they can’t bear to simply open up and try to listen to their inner voices but instead constantly drawing themselves to the noises from outside, consciously or subconsciously. They just dread being alone, anticipating the sense of loneliness it would entail…

In this global age where technology has produced a myriad supply of electronic wares and gadgets to convenient our lives, and in our rush to conform to society with its constantly changing dynamics, it is difficult not to be influenced by what is cool, hip and in-trend.

Just take a peek into a crowded café for an instance, people (the younger generation especially) waiting for their orders rather than using the waiting time to initiate a good conversation with their partners, will instead turn to their smart phones to play games, listen to music, surfing or SMSing.

People just can’t bear to take a little time off from the active participation of their minds in external activities and learn to listen to that gentle voice from within , of which the seed of serenity resides.

Don’t we want to once in a while try to switch off the noises from outside and learn instead to listen to our inner voice? Don’t we want to quiet this gentle rumblings of the heart and try to seek its source and rationalize? Don’t we want to seek a little corner from within and rest this restlessness and anxiety, the source of our discontent and unhappiness, so that it would finally die down and perish into nonexistence?

Maybe its time for us to learn to listen to nothing but this barely audible of the steady beating of our pulses, lending an ear to the inhalation and exhalation of air coursing through our systems to make us realize that nothing is more precious than this.

The realisation of the one fact that we are truly alive..

And all that we have been worrying about have now reduced to mere specks of dust the significance of which is too negligible to warrant their dominance in our minds.

But living truthfully and meaningfully is…

Some random photos:
On Wesak Day (17/05/11), we made an early journey to Santavana Forest Hermitage to participate in Dana offerings for the monks. I was feeling unwell due to flu and fever yet it did not deter me from joining my siblings for the trip, which has now become an annual affair for me, since years back. This time round, nieces Kewei and Chun2 tagged along.

The devotees waiting patiently for the arrival of the monks(tse fus)..



Alms offering.

Scattered thoughts

The sales girl scooped up a near lifeless tiny frog, and instinctively put it back into the tank. I asked her why and she explained that they don’t sell dead frogs as it would poison the fishes when being fed upon. I wanted very much to save its life even though there was only a small chance the frog would survive when being released into the wild. So I told the her to put it into another plastic bag. At the counter, I asked the lady boss to sell a little cheaper since the condition of the frog was a tad fragile, it might be dead any time soon. She instead suggested I might as well not take it, but my heart whispered otherwise, and I paid even though she refused to provide a discount.

All life forms are precious and equal, tiny frogs included, hence deserved to be treated with compassion and respect in their search for continued existence on this earth, even more so during these very uncertain, turbulent times of our lives..

The near lifeless frog, I hope it would against all odds,get a second chance at life.
My beloved sister sent me an email from the village containing some spiritual food for thoughts,to soothe this moody and contemplative soul, on a quiet Friday night: -

把自己的心安住在現在
煩煩惱惱要過一生
快快樂樂也要過一生
為自己找個好方法
讓自己安住 安靜的過活
很多事情不是用想就可以解決的不是嗎?
今天在經集
一部經典裡看到這樣的一句話想和分享

佛答闍多迦尼問時說: 消滅過去之事 排除將來之事
也不執著現在之事 便能平靜的生活~~~共勉之

It helps lift up the spirit a bit. I am sometimes just like a lost child needing a gentle pat on the back, to lead me back onto the right path again. Just a little reminder like this to help me focus on the presence, not the past nor the future, for I believe things will fall into its place when you take care of the presence.

It may just will...

So I shed a few tears, let the moment pass, and I am fine again.

Fleeting beauty of a white flower

無常的花
A white lovely flower I like to smell,
the scent tantalizingly alluring,
sitting bright, young and fresh,
on the stem of a sturdy old plant,
I gleefully plucked it off from its safe dwelling,
to bring it back home
hoping its freshness and smell will stay on,
as picture of its perpetual scent and attractiveness,
being naively painted in my head…

But it quickly withered and died a day after,
transforming into a darkened lump of dried and crumbled petals,
demonstrating quietly, yet unwillingly,
of the swiftness with which it changes its physical beauty.

I despaired a little,
over this somewhat glaring facts,
that impermanence and fragility,
have reared its little ugly heads,
but all with noble intention,
urging us to learn to live in the moments,
to treasure, to appreciate
to learn to love with our hearts
and to give while we can
before all that is worthwhile and good
perish into a cottony cloud of nothingness…

Random photos

A view of Kampung Lumadan.
Its multi-purpose hall
Papa and his friends.

The day that was 23/04/11

Food distribution for flood victims
My father and some kampung folks patiently waiting outside the community hall of Kampung Lumadan for a food and cash distribution by the state government; Inside the hall a dance performance, with the 1Malaysia theme song blaring from the sound system being presented to the audience. Earlier on there were ceramahs being held inside the dewan. I detest it when what was supposed to be a small initiative by the state government to distribute aid to the flood victims was being purposely turned into a grand event of sort to welcome VIPs, with the accompaniment of kompang and the presence of uniformed government servants (I presumed) to add a touch of pomposity and grandeur to the otherwise serene and quiet atmosphere in the village, and a political campaign was then ensued to propagate these VIPs’ well conceived agendas. The kampung people had congregated here as early as seven in the morning and hours passed by, yet all they got to hear were make-believe speeches and empty promises by the oh-so-important political figures. These folks, most of whom being illiterate, are an easy target to fish votes for the coming general election, I assumed.

Even the food aid came a tad too late. The flood occurred in early February during CNY 2011, yet distribution of aids only came in April. Talking about the efficiency of the administration! But they say better late than never .

My father came back much later at about 1pm with a packet of 15kgs rice and RM50.

Sigh.




Fang Sheng
I bought all the 10kgs of ikan keli from the lady fishmonger, all while trying to ease my guilt for concocting a lie that I bought these fish for resell to a businessman in KK, and emphasizing the fact that I only came to buy once in a while if there was a request from the businessman. I had to hide my actual intention for fear of encouraging them to capture more fishes knowing that there’s a steady demand at hand .

It’s always brought about a liberating sense to see the initial calm water being stirred into tiny little waves by the wriggling movement of the fish upon being released into freedom. It elicits this feeling of peace and contentment from within me to see how these tiny lives which were supposed to end up on dining tables, found a precious second chance to live.




Kuih Muih
Some of the kuih-muih (local cakes) I bought from pekan Bongawan, while on my way back to the village, on a Saturday morning. I had meant to buy the very delicious kuih koci but it had been sold out. It’s pretty hard nowadays to find cheap food items selling at 3 pieces for a ringgit. The exorbitant prices of goods these days make living a struggle for the rakyat, especially for the low income group. Is it the cascading effect of the global economy situation, or simply the inefficient administration of our government that is to blame for what we are facing right now?

No one is to know.


Some other random pictures I took of the surroundings , while lazing around in my parents’ house in the village.

My mother's carefully tended chilly plants
Place where we release fishes.
Wild yam plant which never bore fruits.
Baby banana plant
A plastic pail to store water from the slightly leaking water tap.
Young coconut tree with the old one growing side by side.
Cast Iron plant, thriving despite being grossly neglected.
Plot of fresh grass.
Rambutan tree stub
Shy plant (pokok semalu), sensitive & humble as its name suggests,will crumble when touched.
Wild orchid plant found its home on a felled rambutan tree stub
A bouquet of flowers I bought for the Buddha shrine



A new puppy in the house we named Jenggo

It has been a relaxing weekend though, to be away from the hectic schedules in the city, and simply indulged in little moments of easy relaxation and quiet introspection, before embarking on yet another week of work and responsibilities and attending to whatever mundane details of everyday life ….