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

Life Is Not A Prison

This is an updated version of a reply I made last year in response to a poem done by a depressed youth on her feelings of total hopelessness.

Life is not a prison
So tell me why you shout
And ask God to listen
When others are about

Climb high to view your dreams
Ride on the wave of hope
If you fall, get up again
No matter how steep the slope

We all need a window
To see the road ahead
The future may be scary
But it’s not what we dread

It is painful to watch
Those who lock themselves away
Joy, love and happiness
Grow slowly day by day

Strong is good, weak is bad
Be it false, be it true
The strong also have weaknesses
The weak have strengths too

Norms are set by society
With guidelines to follow
These are for everyone
Us and every other fellow

For most, life’s a routine
And at times can be boring
Resolutely, we carry on
No, we are not pretending

Sometimes there’s pain, sometimes joy
As we go on life’s ride
Sometimes happy, sometimes sad
There is no need to hide

Can you see what life’s about?
It’s not just about ourselves
It’s about love, hope, compassion
For us and everybody else

There’s light at the end of the tunnel
To help you find your way
Hope at the end of the path
To pull you through each day

Have You Ever ........

Have you ever sung with a sparrow
By imitating it’s “tweet”
Though the bird looks a little baffled
Boy, it is a great duet

Have you ever climbed up a tall, thin
And gangly papaya tree
To have it slowly bend down to earth
Because of the weight of thee

Have you ever pulled the pony-tail
Of the pretty girl next door
While deep inside you can’t decide if
You like or dislike her more

Have you ever tried to catch the wind
As it passes in a rush
Try as you may, chasing it about
It is always air you grasp

Have you ever sat on a tube and
Go sliding fast down a hill
Even if you fall and tumble down
Gosh, it is still such a thrill

Have you ever tried to speak to one
On whom you have a huge crush
And end up tongue-tied and stammering
Your face coloured red with blush

Have you ever played in the puddles
That’s left by the recent rain
And then return home, wet and dirty
To mama’s dismay again

Have you ever listened to a song
While playing your air guitar
Darn it, at times I do more than that
I conduct an orchestra

Have you ever felt like Peter Pan
Flying high up in the sky
It’s all because the girl of your dreams
Smiles sweetly when passing by

If we have never done the things we do
Would I still be I, and you still be you