Have You Ever Wondered ....

Have you ever wondered ….

Where butterflies spend the night?
In the open, wild and free?
Or seeking shelter from the cold, wind and rain
Perhaps hanging inside a tree?

Have you ever wondered ….

When the tree-tops dance
To the rhythm of the wind
What is it that the wind whispers to the trees
Above all that din?

Have you ever wondered ….

From where the wind comes
And to where does it blow?
Wouldn’t it be great if we could see the wind
Painted the colours of the rainbow?

Have you ever wondered ….

If the rainbow
Is a bridge in the sky
For us to cross over to Heaven
When we die?

Have you ever wondered ….

Why the sky is blue
Except when there’s rain?
Is it possible that those tiny raindrops
Have washed off all the paint?

Have you ever wondered ….

Where rain clouds come from
And why they don’t run dry?
Are they formed by those thick mists in the morning
Drifting up into the sky?

Have you ever wondered ….


Why birds sing in the morning
To welcome the sunrise?
Are they aware that without the sun
It’ll be our demise?

Have you ever wondered ….why we wonder?

Inter-Faith Dialogue

I have read about a conference of Muslim and Christian leaders being held at New Haven, Connecticut to promote inter-faith dialogue in the newspapers recently. This brought back memories of my encounters with two elderly Malay Muslim gentlemen more than twenty years ago.

The first was Pak Osman, the father of a friend. He was from Batu Kurau, a small village near Taiping and he sold fruits for a living. He was a devout Muslim and had performed the Haj three times. In my country, the people who have performed the Haj are well-respected among the Muslim community and addressed as Haji.
In my country too, some of the Muslims do not wish to discuss religion with non-Muslims, ostensibly because they (the non-Muslims) do not know enough of the Muslim religion, so I was surprised when Pak Osman started discussing religion with me.
He was wrongly informed that I was a Christian and wanted to know more about the religion and was taken aback that I do not believe in religion. We ended up discussing religions in general (or the lack of it) and our different customs and beliefs.
We had a fruitful series of discussions during the evenings, after I had finished my work, at his roadside fruit stall situated close to the Taiping Bus Station from which I have gained an insight into the Muslim religion and the Malay culture.

The second was a gentleman from remote Pasir Mas, Kelantan whom I met when I attended a two-week course in “Fresh-water fish breeding” at Bukit Tinggi, Pahang in 1983. He was a rice farmer and had performed the Haj twice but I cannot recall his name now. He did not have a formal education and could only read and write in Jawi but he surprised me with his wide general knowledge which he gained from reading Jawi newspapers.
I remember, with mirth, that the first thing he wanted to know was whether man has really landed on the moon or was it merely Western propaganda. (The moon is sacred to the Muslims). I suspect that must be the opinion of some of his friends back in rural Pasir Mas but he clearly had his doubts.
He knew about the conflict between Cuba and America, the “Cold War”, the Falklands War, the fall of the Shah of Persia, communism in China and Mao Zedong, etc and his questions often had me stumped.

The two gentlemen impressed me with their views, their thoughts, their ability to discuss (and not argue), their willingness to listen, their openness and their open-mindedness about others’ cultures and religions (they never once claimed their religion to be the best). It was indeed a pleasure and an honour to have met them.

Through the years, I have had other Malay Muslim friends, as well as friends of others faiths and races, but none with whom I have discussed religion, beliefs and customs or world events. Is inter-faith dialogue useful? I believe so.

Dragon Seeds

A bold young man in his twenties
Left Guangzhou Province in China
To face the rough and violent seas
Sailing to far-off Malaya

It was the nineteen twenties
And China was torn by strife
He had to make some monies
For his family to survive

The journey was a long one
And life on board was a bore
It was close to a month
Before he could step on shore

He made his way to Larut
Where tin mines were flourishing
And towkays were out to recruit
Workers to do the mining

But he was a skillful tailor
Probably one of the top
So, instead of being a tin-miner
He set up his own shop

He slogged and struggled so tough
That his business began to thrive
Very soon he had saved enough
To send for his lovely young wife

Together the young couple strived
To earn enough money
To keep themselves alive
And send back to the family

She soon bore him two sons
Which made him swell with pride
But they were also the reasons
Their expenses took a hike

The situation then was such
They survived from day to day
Alas, the strain was too much
The young mother passed away

The two young boys then grew up
Being cared for by their stepmother
Studies, they soon had to give up
To learn the trade of a tailor

The elder son began working
With the famed British Army
At a camp in Klian Pauh, Taiping
In a shed facing the entry

I can’t think of anything worse
Then this earnest young man’s plight
For he knew just three English words
Which were “Yes”, “No” and “Alright”

How it was not a deterrent
I really don’t have a clue
He managed to raise ten children
And send them all to school

That, my children, is the story
Of two brave young men indeed
Who overcame every adversity
Two of China’s Dragon Seeds

Their spirits were indomitable
They faced life with pluck
Strong, courageous and capable
They do not depend on luck

You, my children, are the ones chosen
To perpetuate your ancestors’ deeds
To follow this path, well-trodden
As you are all Dragons Seeds

You’ve to fight life’s battles with valour
Treat your kith and kin with care
Give your best with every endeavour
And never ever seek Welfare

It’s for those helpless and destitute
Who cannot cover their needs
Don’t bring us into disrepute
Remember, you are Dragon Seeds

Always live to your full potential
Strive to win every distinction
Seek achievements that are special
For you, for us and for the nation

I have decided to buy myself a tree

I have been reading about the effect of trees on the environment - how they absorb carbon dioxide and release oxygen into the atmosphere. I have also read about those billionaires who buy huge tracts of forests/jungles to be preserved for posterity so that the future generations have the chance to appreciate nature and also, to act as an “oxygen factory”.

Since I am not yet a billionaire, I have decided to buy myself a tree. I know, one tree is not much but I am hoping that my tree will be able to provide enough oxygen for a butterfly or a honey bee. I will hate it if my tree provides just enough oxygen for a mosquito. Those mosquitoes and I do not get along; they tend to get under my skin.

I would consider a horse-chestnut tree because of its size, its widely spreading branches which would provide ample shade, and its tall clusters of pretty white or pink flowers. A giant oak tree would also be appropriate because of its hard wood and because I like the idiom “great oaks from little acorns grew”. I would also like to purchase the land that the tree is planted on which should include a space of about two feet around the base of the tree. This is because I do not want to receive a message one fine day asking me to remove my tree because somebody wants the land back.

If it is possible, I would also like a certificate of ownership in case of future dispute. Of course, if I frame it, I can hang it in my den. After all, how many of you actually own a tree?

The location of the tree is of the utmost importance. I would prefer a tree on an island in a picturesque lake, or on top of a hill overlooking a beautiful valley. The tree must never be in the centre of the city, exposed to the toxic smog and the awful pollution and with the sunlight blocked off by all those tall buildings. Then, there are those kids who like to carve messages with their knives and the dogs that love to pee against tree trunks.

Finally, when I die, I want my ashes to be buried there, in the shade of my tree. I can then guard the tree as a tree spirit. Or is it free spirit? Anyhow, I will place a curse on anyone who harms my tree. He or she will have seven years of no luck; I stress, it is no luck and not bad luck. I do not want anything bad to happen to them; just that he or she will have no luck with love, the lottery, the horses, etc.

So, does anyone have a suitable tree for sale? Is there a kindred spirit out there also looking to buy a tree?

Consideration

To write, one needs courage and confidence
To disparage, one only needs petulance
Passing caustic comments
On what another presents
Seeking glory in one’s stark arrogance

The Men Who Hold Up The Mountain

Yesterday I watched a documentary on the porters of Huashan, one of China’s five sacred Taoist mountains, which is about 2200 metres high.

These porters carry loads of provisions like cold drinks, tea leaves, beer, etc up the mountain for the tea-shops and hotels there. The loads, which can weigh from 50 kg to 150 kg, are carried tied in bundles and hung from both ends of a long bamboo pole which the men carry on their shoulders. The documentary features a few porters, each with his distinctive style of climbing the mountain.

The first man, in his late forties, sings at the top of his voice as he slowly climbs up the steps of the stone stairs. He has lost a few front teeth and has scars on his body as a result of accidents while climbing the mountain. Due to poverty, his wife had left him so he has brought up his two children on his own. To make more money, he carries loads of 140-150 kg and has earned enough to build his own house and send both his sons to university. They are working now so he is saving the money he earns for his old age when he can no longer work.

The second, an amiable man in his sixties, appears to be talking to himself as he climbs. Actually, he is a movie buff and he is re-enacting the movies that he has watched. He can sing, too and when he meets his friend, the “singer”, they would perform a duet or sit down to have a chat. His grown-up children want him to stop but he loves the mountain too much. They have given in but insist that he carries a load of no more than 60 kg.

The third man, also in his sixties, is a self-taught flutist. He plays the flute with both hands with the pole balanced on his shoulder while he walks. He plays well and claims that tourists climbing the mountain have told him that his music helps them too. When he reaches a steep slope, he would keep his flute and start singing. He has managed to send his children to college too, and they are now working in the city. Talking about his far-away children brought tears to his eyes (and I thought tough mountain men don’t cry!).

The fourth man is a wiry 75 year old with long white hair and a weather-beaten face. He is rather taciturn and does not reveal much. He carries a 50 kg load and shouts loudly as he climbs; with his wild long hair, you could have mistaken him for a mad man!

These men do not have an education or other skills to get another job. They took up mountain-porterage because the only qualifications needed are stamina and a strong pair of legs. Yet they know how to divert their attention from pain and suffering by singing, enacting, playing music, shouting, etc. They also exhibit extraordinary camaraderie. A shout by one of them would elicit a chorus of responses; it is as if they are shouting encouragement to one another. They would also happily share a song or have a chat when they meet. If one of them were to be unable to carry on because of a fall or some other reason, the others would willingly help carry his load without asking for money even though their earnings are meager.
These men, with furrows on their shoulders, scars on their bodies and sinews in their legs as a result of all that climbing somehow know the meaning of friendship and compassion. We have a lot to learn from them.

A Year in Japan.....collection of our first year journey