I remember watching this before. Not too long ago, there were two main characters of the same, one older and the other one younger --Joined by other personalities.
I think I finally understand now; there was no outer interference, no bizarre phenomenon. I was afraid and felt the fright because of the state of my mind / my mental state. The uneasiness and discontentment turned into fear. I couldn’t bring myself to turn off the light in the room. I even had the door opened. Having the feeling of someone watching over me, waiting for the right time to make it self-visible to me and reveal its ugliness. I was almost certain that there was a presence.
Ever since I was a kid, I was fascinated by those flying tins up in the sky. The loud sound it emits notifying its arrival. The blaring sound that once was a disturbance now turned into a norm due to the constancy of it. It seemed so far up, so distance that I longed for it. We all somewhat go for the things that are too far to reach. It gives a sense of motivation and longing I suppose.
I try to comfort myself by telling myself that everyday is a new day and you never know what you can learn or gain the next day. Patience and contentment, those are the two vital things that a man’s got to set as his motto. Be patient and content with what you have. That’s what the book said.
Even when I was small I wanted to escape from reality. I guess that happened naturally as a defense mechanism of sort. My next-door neighbors were a bunch of young stewards and stewardess. They’d come and go almost at anytime of the day or night. They always seemed busy and on the run. I’d just look at them in awe. Sometimes a couple of them came over to our place, they’d tell about their experiences and how foreign men tried to harass them. For some reason I always felt that people on the run who appear to be busy appeared cool and with a mission to do something equally cool.
I have to wake up early the next morning. It’s already 2 am and I am still with my eyes opened. If there was a being, why does this being, being so inclined on bugging me? Not wanting me to have my rest?
I also started to realize that I had a weak mind. Often when I was alone, with no one around, in a confided space-- My fear emerges through the dark and portrays itself. All sorts of thoughts and images come to life. I knew that something had to be done. Nurul, told me that it was a symptom of disorder.
My imagination ran wild, especially when I was trying to run away from something. I’d picture a huge plane crashing on a nearby hill. And that I would run towards it and everyone else just didn’t exist. It was just the plane and I. As I ran towards it, the door opens up and a few stewardesses came out and take my hand. They lead me to the plane with giggles and we enjoy eating the snacks from the plane. All my troubles were forgotten. I was a late bloomer by the way.
I wanted everything I did and do had a meaning and a significant value to it. Ironically most things I did and do proved the opposite. I wanted to find answers but I am stuck without a single resolve. Are my problems permanent and insoluble?
Nowadays when I hear the roaring engine of a plane, I look up at dark sky and look at the blinking lights. I am still amazed, so far away, so high up, always with a destination and a goal, so purposeful and respectable.
Sometimes I wish that a man’s purpose would be as simple as machines.
Manners in My Manor
What difference?
So this guy in a movie said, “What’s a difference between a porcupine and a luxurious car? With the car the prick is in the inside.”
Having said that, I have no qualms against rich people... In case anyone decides to judge that is.
I was at the clinic and the doctor said that I don’t have a fever but an allergy. Before I could ask what, he said that I am still able to work. Having heard that my chest sank and I was so caught up that I totally forgot to ask what I am allergic to. Anyhoo, I got an MC, I guess he was just messing with me. I also got a tiny bottle of nose drops. That was a first, who puts stuff in their nose? I guess I do.
I don’t normally promote movies, but people should watch, “Little Miss Sunshine”. It’s good.
Recently I came to think that the majority is not always right. Wait, before I thought, I watched a documentary and also read about it. So I am not a fan of democracy anymore. I don’t know if I ever was.
I am reading a book that requires me to pay attention to every single word. This also means I have to know the meaning of every word. Troublesome and tiring but the contents are new and educational, compared to the book’s age and condition. We’ll see how that goes. More than often I am more easily distracted with the pile of DVDs at home.
Okay, that’ll be it. I prefer writing stories.
Having said that, I have no qualms against rich people... In case anyone decides to judge that is.
I was at the clinic and the doctor said that I don’t have a fever but an allergy. Before I could ask what, he said that I am still able to work. Having heard that my chest sank and I was so caught up that I totally forgot to ask what I am allergic to. Anyhoo, I got an MC, I guess he was just messing with me. I also got a tiny bottle of nose drops. That was a first, who puts stuff in their nose? I guess I do.
I don’t normally promote movies, but people should watch, “Little Miss Sunshine”. It’s good.
Recently I came to think that the majority is not always right. Wait, before I thought, I watched a documentary and also read about it. So I am not a fan of democracy anymore. I don’t know if I ever was.
I am reading a book that requires me to pay attention to every single word. This also means I have to know the meaning of every word. Troublesome and tiring but the contents are new and educational, compared to the book’s age and condition. We’ll see how that goes. More than often I am more easily distracted with the pile of DVDs at home.
Okay, that’ll be it. I prefer writing stories.
Defeat
Summer time comes again,
Changes everywhere can be seen,
Except for the self who wishes to be changed,
Still waiting for it to alter itself.
Deeper and deeper my roots grow,
Harder and staler is the heart,
Engulfed in pride and ignorance,
Reminiscing the trivial past,
Clueless as before and heading towards the unknown future,
What a gamble this being is.
What is the meaning of this so-called purposeful journey?
When the moral is weak and when the mortal is a mortal,
So lost and confused, dazed and programmed,
Idiotic hereditary traditions, created by falsehood and blind desires,
I am now blind in the light, an empty vessel walking unknowingly.
Sadness and hatred, tears and remorse,
All will be waiting to be fulfilled,
What is this joke played unto everyone.
No answer is needed, this weak mortal is already dead.
Fields of Fields
Sunflower fields glistening and happy,
So vibrant and colorful in the bright sun,
Flashes and glimpses, Imaginary and escapism,
But to no avail reality snaps back,
In the present it is, reality snaps back.
Gaining knowledge and earning for wisdom,
Self-acceptance and acknowledgement,
Getting ready for it to happen,
Backups and plans are all in order,
And then it happens, now I am shattered beyond words.
For I feel, hence I fall,
Cursing the soul’s characteristics,
What is this emotion that changes like the weather,
Happy when I am full, gloomy when I am hungry,
Pleasure and pain makes me desire,
What is the purpose of this satire?
Starving to feed this empty chest,
At the end, during the night,
It feels like filling water in a broken vase.
The subconscious is now hurt and waiting for it’s revenge,
The conscious remains worrying about what to wear tomorrow.
New Age, Old Age..Repetition
Philosopher: A person who seeks to understand something that is not known, that knowledge itself can't grasp.
“By this definition the person who deals with analytical ideas and data alone is a theorist; the ones who deals with normative ideas is a moralist; the person who deals with both and unites them through disciplined imagination is an intellectual.”
Materialism: belief of theory that only material things exist; the tendency to value material things (wealth, bodily comforts, etc) too much and spiritual and intellectual things too little.
Zionism: Racism. Jewish national movement to establish a homeland in Palestine.
Regimentation: Subjection to control; strict political discipline (as in a police state).
Anarchy: Absence of government or control; disorder; confusion.
Bolshevik: An extreme revolutionary.
Caucus: A power meeting of political wire pullers to decide on a course of action.
Conservatism: Tendency to maintain a state of affairs, especially in politics without great or sudden change.
Fabian Tactics: Delaying tactics.
Bourgeoisie: the middle classes, especially the trading classes.
Proletariat: The whole body of wage earners (skilled workers).
Cats-paw: A person used as a tool by another.
Referendum: The referring to a political question to a direct vote of the citizen.
Lip Service: Pretended service, expressed merely in words but not in deeds or in sincerity.
Nihilism: Total rejection of current religious and moral beliefs.
Sovereign Remedy: A very good remedy.
Intelligentsia: The professional or educated class.
Pessimism: Denotes a belief that the experienced world is the worst possible.
Fascism: Authoritarian political ideology generally tied to a mass movement that considers individual and other interests subordinate to the needs of the state and seeks to forge a national unity, usually based on ethnic, cultural or racial attributes.
Rationalism: “Any view appealing to reason as a source of knowledge or justification” in more technical terms, “In which the criterion of truth is not sensory but intellectual and deductive.
Existentialism: Is a philosophical movement which claims that individual human beings create the meanings of their own lives.
Abrogate: to cancel, annul repeal or destroy. To revoke formally.
Adherence: Faithful, the property of sticking together.
Complex
So many things on mind,
All these thoughts black and white,
Good and evil,
Troubling and unwanted like heavy stones,
Proving its presence and the burden it carries,
These heavy thoughts moving,
In a vast black space far away from light,
Where once there was a way,
Now is clogged,
Contempt and anguish,
Ends in vanquish,
Stuck and unmoving physically and mentally,
Dead end and blind alley,
Halted and stopped by the palm,
The hand that obstructs the path that shoves it huge, powerful hands,
A huge barrier evident now,
More and more barriers and obstructions constructs,
No remorse neither humane,
Laughs and Parties replaced instead,
Selfishness and stupidity,
Lack of understanding with their fingers poked in their ears,
But proud nevertheless,
Egoistic and narcissist,
Chasing goals by deceiving the self and others around,
Make beliefs of beliefs,the mind is a powerful thing,
Living life by stepping on others,
using others as sacrifices,
as a stepping stone,
Proud of achievements,
artificial, fake and temporary,
what people perceive as beauty, success have materialized,
Don't you see how good life is?
Adventures of an Adventurer
He staggered a little noticing an object, a full brick heading towards him. His eyes fixed on the flying brick directed straight to him. It got closer and closer, His eyes and thoughts were fixed on nothing else but the brick. He tilted his head slightly upward, looking at it amidst the glaring sunlight. He closed his eyes due to the blaring sunlight and at that moment felt a strong thrust against his forehead. It gave out a loud ‘CLUNK’ as it collided with his skull.
Shocked with what had happened he thought to him self that he always managed to easily dodge any sudden attacks; he paused and reasoned with himself and decided that it must be the cold that he had caught recently and that it was interfering with his senses and reflects. The reddish brick now shattered to pieces on the ground. He dusted the sand from his forehead and resumed walking.
He was in the middle of a journey that had a significant purpose; an expedition/ journey to craft him into a physically and mentally strong person. There were people who were depending on him. He wanted to be strong enough to defeat the evil doers that stole their home, land and even after that still return to kill and torture his people. Most of the young men in his village were caught and killed as they grew older. When he reached 15 his parents thought that it was best for him to leave and decided that he should depart from them.
Though he was unwilling at first, his parents explained to him that they didn’t have another way to ensure his safety and that it was his fate. That particular night marked the start of a new life and a new journey.
His name was Ahmad Pen Bin Pensil. His grand Father loved to write and had a huge collection of pencils. His love of those writing materials were so deep that he vowed that if he had a son he’d name his son Pensil and he was true to his words.
That passion was inherited by his son but unlike his father he was into something better, pens. Pensil loved pens and he too had a collection of exquisite pens.
Pensil was married to a beautiful woman for a few years already but was unable to produce an offspring. So Pensil like his dad, vowed that if he had a son he’d name him Pen. And he too true to his words father named his only child, ‘Ahmad Pen’. At first his friends and the villagers weren’t used to calling him that but they tried to adapt. Later they improvised and came up with a more authentic and a more comfortable name for them to call; they called him, Pian.
Pian now a teenager had long curly hair that reached his shoulders. He was dark, well built and at medium height. He had sharp dark brown eyes and carried a pleasant smile. He wore a worn off grey looking slack which once used to be black in color and a sleeveless top made from the same material as his pants. His only baggage was a bundled up cloth. In it were some clothes, food and his mother’s comb that she gave to him to comb his hair and for keepsake. The bundled cloth was tied to a stick which he carried easily on his shoulder.
His father once said that theirs is a destiny to die fighting. At first he didn’t comprehend it but after sometime he understood what his father said. He had to fight either against his enemies or against his own desires, he was sure that this life of his would be a long battle. And he hope that he’d come out victorious. The thought of his enemy who were always superior in numbers, weaponries and cunningness made him worried but he figured that as long as he could live on there’ll be a solution to his problems.
He always thought about his parents, and his friends that he grew up with. Some, whom were already captured by the enemy or like him, had to escape and leave his family in order to keep on living. He missed his family dearly and this was the first time he lived away from them. He reminded himself that he had a goal and until achieving that he couldn’t risk going back and die in vain.
He often thought of them and feared for his parent’s safety, living their lives under the control of the evil kingdom. No one from his village came close to the enemy and no one had known the face of the evil king. The difference between his people and the enemy was too vast that it wasn’t even a war. It was like a fight between a crippled man with no weapons in his hands against a healthy man with a gun in his hand. No one helped them. The neighboring villages too fell into the control of the greedy and power hungry. Before long their power, and reign kept on expanding.
During his first days Pian had trouble adjusting with his new life but he knew that if he wanted to continue living he had to eat and keep himself safe. But more importantly he had to get used to the solitude and the emptiness that he began to be aware of more and more.
He started by collecting fruits that he picked up on the ground or climbed up trees to pick them. He even managed to find a safe spot on one of the huge trees to sleep in. this continued for almost a month. He dared not to travel too far from where he had gotten accustomed to.
After a month or so he began adapting to the lifestyle and felt safer living in the wild. Nevertheless he grew tired of being alone and being at the same place. He began thinking and contemplated on expanding his horizons and learning new things as was told by his parents.
He came to a decision and started heading in the direction of knowledge and wisdom. He went on walking in the lands that he was not familiar with. Quite sometime later he reached a river and he stopped there to take a drink and clean himself up.
He began to realize that there were people around him and was quite surprised to meet a group of people walking in the thick forest. Unfortunately he stumbled onto some rowdies. At first he was excited about meeting them. It felt like ages since he had last met anyone. He greeted them and they greeted him back by demanding for his money and belongings.
Pian refused and ended up having to fight the rowdies to save his stuff. But he forgot that he was no longer sparring with his friends and these guys were ruthless and determined. Though he managed to give up a fight he failed to beat them and ended up with his back on the ground all bruised up.
Pian was too weak to continue on with his journey for that day. He yanked himself to the safest spot he could muster, almost immediately closed his eyes. In his sleep he could feel his body freezing and aching. The night was cold, the bruised areas on in his face felt like sharp nails poking through his face. His dream was scary and he dreamt of strange wild animals trying to get a piece of him. His stomach was empty but he remained there unmoved, too weak to do anything else.
When morning came he felt the sun shining on his face and he felt relieved that it was daylight. He went to wash himself at a nearby river and drank the fresh water till he couldn’t anymore. Later he went looking for food to feed his empty stomach.
He could still feel the pain in his bones as he walked with his stomach churning badly. He managed to get a hold of some fruits that fell to the ground. He sat down and ate them. Pian then gathered a few more, took out a cloth he had with him and laid it on the ground. He picked up the fruits and placed in the cloth and tied a knot. He was feeling a little better and felt that he had gain some energy from the fruits he ate.
As he went on with his journey he met the same bullies that hurt him the day before. He cursed himself for being so unlucky and for not picking a safer route. They laughed and teased him as they saw him walking. He was too weak to run. And as expected the rowdies again wanted what he had with him. He fought back with as much strength left in him. He failed to protect his belongings again and fell to the ground as the bandits walked away laughing joyously.
This time his body ached more severely than it did the day before. He cursed them and vowed to become stronger. That night, he had trouble sleeping and when he finally managed to get some sleep he was awoken again by the nightmares. He felt really weak and sick but he just laid there, violated by the pain and the bad dreams.
This continued to happen quite frequently for a period of time. No matter when and which route he went the bullies always managed to bump into him. It couldn’t be coincidental, he thought. He figured that he must be cursed and what made it worse was each time he confronted them, he lost to them. Even when he didn’t have anything for them to take they’d harass and beat him up and screech at him.
However as the saying goes, ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’. Pian too became a better fighter and a stronger person both mentally and physically. He began thinking of what he did wrong and how to face the three bullies more effectively. He no longer had the nightmare that he used to. For the days to come he had become more and more efficient and comfortable living in the jungle. Building a fire wasn’t a problem and he even could light a fire using damp sticks. He started eating meat that he had managed to get. He also learned several skills like hunting, fishing, cooking and sewing.
One day as he was traveling further away heading towards the mountains away from the neighboring villages; he remembered on how the people he had met and the people in his village used to talk about the mountains for being treacherous and magical.
As he was approaching the mountain he once again met with the 3 bullies that he loathed. But they appeared to be different this time; they had different expressions in their face. Their expressions were grim and they were just staring sharply as they walked past each other. One of them called out and said, ‘don’t go into the mountains.’ He knew that something was wrong but he didn’t bother to ask and that was the last time he saw the 3 petty thieves.
After that he didn’t encounter any humans. He traveled deep into the thickest forest. The bites from small insects didn’t bother him anymore; either that or he was already immune to it. The thickness of the jungle didn’t scare him anymore. Occasionally when he came across animals that were too strong for him he’d climb up a tree and wait for it to leave...Most of the times he slept and rested on higher grounds or on huge trees with giant branches sprouting out from them.
Finally after weeks of walking he could see the immense mountains in front of him. He walked on, passed a few and stopped at one. It had several huge openings that resembled entrances. It was a cave he realized and as he found out later, there were several more holes that led to somewhere he was oblivious to.
Pian decided to make a small fire with what he could find and with what he had brought with him and as he did that he heard a voice calling towards him. He was shocked at first but the voice he heard was old and gentle.
‘Hey you, Hey you boy.’ he turned around and saw a white figure sitting on a rock. Pian replied, ‘why didn’t I see you before? And yes?’ The white figure gestured with his hand for Pian to come closer to him. As Pian got closer he realized that the figure was of and old man who was fair, had a white turban on his head and had a long beard that reached his belly. He wore a long white robe and despite the dusty cave his clothing looked new and unaffected by the dirt and dusts.
‘Yes?’ Pian enquired again. ‘It is not polite to ask too many questions boy.’ the old man said. He looked like a man who had gone through a lot in his life and he was charismatic as he spoke. And before Pian could say that he was sorry the old man spoke again, ‘come and sit next to me, and before that introduce yourself starting with your name.’ the old man stopped and waited with his eyes closed as if listening attentively.
Pian introduced himself and when he told the old man about his name and how he got his nick; the old man shook his head and almost shouted, ‘how stupid people can be at times and what a stupid name you have.’ He paused and added, ‘wait it might not be as stupid just strange.’ Pian got mad hearing that but he didn’t want to be disrespectful so he shook the thought off his head.
‘Now let me tell you about myself.’ The old man said. Before he could start introducing himself he stopped for a moment, and added, ‘why waste time introducing myself, it’s not like that’s important. It’s been such a long time since I’ve talked to someone. I have so much to share. But not my name’
Pian got annoyed and interrupted the old man and asked in an annoying tone, ‘Whyy? why do I have to listen to what you say old man?’ and as soon he finished, Pian noticed that the old man now had a bamboo stick in his hand. He was sure that he didn’t have one before. Pian enquired with his eyes wide opened, ‘where did you get that from?’ the cave around him began to light up a little. The only replied that he got from the old man was, ‘Bend over.’ He said in a soft tone but in the barely lighted and emptiness of the cave his voice transcended a very sharp, strict voice to Pian’s ears. Pian slowly bent over and the old man still sitting on the huge rock swung the long bamboo stick and struck Pian’s butt. The pain was excruciating, it felt like his flesh were torn But he dared not check.
Pian now seated next to the old man and was listening attentively to what the old man was saying. He sat beside the old man for almost 3 days now only stopping for eating and sleeping. He really had so much to tell, pian wondered where he got these stories from. Though some were boring but there were some that was interesting and fun to listen to. The old man was a good story teller. He spoke of almost everything, His childhood, his teachers, wives, sons, daughters, grandsons and his enemies.
On the fourth day he said, ‘my mouth is getting tired, I think I should rest it a little.’ Pian smiled at the old man and thanked God for that.
The old man then asked about Pian’s reason of traveling alone and his reason of coming to the cave. Pian then told him about why he had to get out from his home and what he wanted to gain in his journey. The old man listened carefully and nodded as Pian spoke. He even patted Pian’s back probably sympathizing him. Finally he nodded again and said, ‘I understand.’ He paused looking a little unsure at first but then said, ‘I can help you accomplish your goals.’ He closed his eyes and appeared to be thinking of something, he resumed, ‘but in return you have to live with me, listen and do everything I say. Secondly you’re only to leave when I think you’re capable of doing so.’
Everyday since then, Pian was occupied with doing the things that the old man wanted him to do and listening to his stories. Every morning he had to jog and find for food. His jogging route and timing were the same and he had to return at a precise time. He had to always stay close to the old man.
‘Come here boy with a stupid name.’ he called one day and as Pian sat close to him, he said, ‘firstly, I’ll teach you to write with, it would be a shame if you didn’t know how to write.
His day consisted of several learning sessions; the old man did as he promised. Pian was happy and felt fortunate that he had met the old man. He felt like he was really improving. And when the old man taught him on how to defend oneself, he learned diligently.
After a few months the Old man said that he was going to teach Pian something important for his well being the old man taught him on how to meditate and its techniques and on the several ways and on which techniques to apply according to what he wanted to accomplish. Pian had to learn and meditate like the old man did. And for a while it seemed like the only thing they did.
It did introduce him into a whole new world and to something that he never thought existed.
Although at times the old man’s request was too much, for instant he’d asked Pian to climb up the cave and gather bird’s nest and when Pian denied, the old man would threaten him with his bamboo stick. However Pian felt better now that he didn’t have to live alone and better still he had learned many things about the world and him self that he was oblivious to all this while, Having the old man as a blessing to Pian.
The old man also taught him on how to be more contemplative with what he heard and see and on his own accord figure out whether it was something he could believe in or not.
But the old man as usual prioritized meditation, he always said, ‘by meditating one learns many things including facing his own fears and getting to know oneself better. When one has reached a certain level he can journey through the worlds and experience many things just by meditating’ he added. Hence, Pian had to practice on his meditation for hour’s everyday.
After what seemed to be more than a year of being with the old man, the old man stated, ‘I think it’s time for me to go home now or else my wife would start to worry.’ Pian couldn’t believe what he heard at first, ‘but I thought your wife was dead and you didn’t have a home.’ He stated in an angry tone. The old man almost chuckled, ‘let this be another lesson to you, never trust what you hear a 100% always contemplate and have doubts about what you see and hear. Pian felt lied to and was angry but he couldn’t be angry with the old man. So he reluctantly with his head down said, ‘ok.’
‘While I am gone, continue doing what I taught you for another 2 months and after that consider your lesson over, and with that you are free to do what you want.’ The old man gently lifted his right hand. Pian responded after a few idle seconds on looking at the old man took it with both of his, bowed and kissed it. He said, ‘thank you’ and just like that the old man vanished.
The next morning, Pian woke up and walked around restlessly and made him self busy by gathering sticks for the fire, making himself food to eat, tidying up the place and reading some of the old man’s note. Once he felt that he was ready to get some rest, he made his bed and tried to sleep.
He was so used to the old man’s presence that he now felt empty and alone. He wanted to leave the dark cave that was filled with bats, snakes and insects. Nevertheless he adhered to the old man’s words and continued with his lessons. Pian concentrated more on his meditation that helped him calm his nerves and explore his boundaries. He was good at it now and could travel in his exploration and learn many things while just sitting on a rock with his eyes closed.
The nights were especially lonely for Pian, not having the old man feed him strange stories and teach him new stuffs. Pian felt sad not having someone to confide in and not having his only friend by his side.
Pian spent more and more of his time meditating and venturing into place he never been before. His master had warned him about going to strange places. And about meditation in which not everyone gains the outcome that they intended. It was like going on a journey in one’s own mind accompanied by thoughts and fantasies.
During one of these sessions he met with a woman who appeared to be glowing white wearing a long white cloak and claimed that she had the power to foretell his future. Pian was intrigued and so she began, ‘as u start to journey out from this cave to make a change, as told by the old man you have to find people who shares the same goal as you do and come up with a plan to terminate your ever so powerful enemy. And so you begin recruiting, you will realize how much you differ from other people and have difficulty dealing with them but you still try to adapt and stick to your goal. Your friends would eventually betray you; you will fall prey to the beauty of women and to the luxury of life that you will forget your goal and die as a diseased filthy man. She waited for his respond and when he didn’t say anything she resumed, ‘don’t waste your life.’
She stood back after that and a very thin old man with balding white hair and a cigarette in his mouth who looked a little like Carl Jung stepped close enough and said, ‘your enemy has no conscience it was a nation that was once tortured. The healthy man does not torture others; generally it is the tortured who turn into torturers. If you go against them they’ll deceive, torture, tempt you and use any ways they can to fail you. They’re like the brothers of the devil who has no morals and values and will stop at nothing.’ He looked at Pian’s worried expression and said, ‘your faith will be decided as soon as you make up your mind to fight against them. Pian looked confused now the man then shouted, ‘you will fail!’
Pian tried to calm himself down and concentrated on doing so but now the woman and the old man stood side by side Pian’s surrounding turned into a beautiful garden. It was filled with colorful flowers, brids chirping, cute animals and a stream that smelled sweet. They both simultaneously said in a soothing voice, ‘take our hands and you’ll live a happy life for the rest of your life. You don’t have to go through hardships anymore. All you have to do is take our hands.’ and with that they extended their hands to him. Pian was confused as he looked at them and he was almost mesmerized by them.
Suddenly the old thin man disappeared leaving the woman in the cloak behind. She removed her long cloak and as it hit the ground. Pian noticed that she looked like too beautiful and he realized that she was wearing a very transparent white dress. He could see her round full breasts from her transparent dress. Pian was mesmerized.
But as he was heading towards her he thought about the old man and noticed his surroundings changing once again and he was alone again in pitch black. The old man his master was back and stood in front of him, he appeared to be furious. The old man appeared in front of him and told him, ‘how much vulnerable more can you get my foolish student?’ he shouted, ‘to simply listen and believe in what you hear, have I not taught you anything?’ And apart from the old man everything else was black. He stood there with his white and transcending himself in the darkness. The old man moved his hands a little. Pian’s surrounding changed at first into a green sunny day with great trees and sparkling rivers.
Pian was astounded by what he was experiencing the exact place changed into a dry, hot place. Pian could feel his discomfort and the heat made him sweat a little. As he looked at the old man it changed again into a place filled with snow instantly changing into white. ‘Miracles are not a test, and anyone can perform miracles. You must always come back to your basic and the fundamentals of your beliefs. Do not be fooled by their handy works.’
He woke up the next day fresh and relieved. He realized that it was already time for him to leave the cave. He got ready and once he was prepared he started towards his village. Pian was ready to face his enemies and prepared to learn and experience newer things.
Shocked with what had happened he thought to him self that he always managed to easily dodge any sudden attacks; he paused and reasoned with himself and decided that it must be the cold that he had caught recently and that it was interfering with his senses and reflects. The reddish brick now shattered to pieces on the ground. He dusted the sand from his forehead and resumed walking.
He was in the middle of a journey that had a significant purpose; an expedition/ journey to craft him into a physically and mentally strong person. There were people who were depending on him. He wanted to be strong enough to defeat the evil doers that stole their home, land and even after that still return to kill and torture his people. Most of the young men in his village were caught and killed as they grew older. When he reached 15 his parents thought that it was best for him to leave and decided that he should depart from them.
Though he was unwilling at first, his parents explained to him that they didn’t have another way to ensure his safety and that it was his fate. That particular night marked the start of a new life and a new journey.
His name was Ahmad Pen Bin Pensil. His grand Father loved to write and had a huge collection of pencils. His love of those writing materials were so deep that he vowed that if he had a son he’d name his son Pensil and he was true to his words.
That passion was inherited by his son but unlike his father he was into something better, pens. Pensil loved pens and he too had a collection of exquisite pens.
Pensil was married to a beautiful woman for a few years already but was unable to produce an offspring. So Pensil like his dad, vowed that if he had a son he’d name him Pen. And he too true to his words father named his only child, ‘Ahmad Pen’. At first his friends and the villagers weren’t used to calling him that but they tried to adapt. Later they improvised and came up with a more authentic and a more comfortable name for them to call; they called him, Pian.
Pian now a teenager had long curly hair that reached his shoulders. He was dark, well built and at medium height. He had sharp dark brown eyes and carried a pleasant smile. He wore a worn off grey looking slack which once used to be black in color and a sleeveless top made from the same material as his pants. His only baggage was a bundled up cloth. In it were some clothes, food and his mother’s comb that she gave to him to comb his hair and for keepsake. The bundled cloth was tied to a stick which he carried easily on his shoulder.
His father once said that theirs is a destiny to die fighting. At first he didn’t comprehend it but after sometime he understood what his father said. He had to fight either against his enemies or against his own desires, he was sure that this life of his would be a long battle. And he hope that he’d come out victorious. The thought of his enemy who were always superior in numbers, weaponries and cunningness made him worried but he figured that as long as he could live on there’ll be a solution to his problems.
He always thought about his parents, and his friends that he grew up with. Some, whom were already captured by the enemy or like him, had to escape and leave his family in order to keep on living. He missed his family dearly and this was the first time he lived away from them. He reminded himself that he had a goal and until achieving that he couldn’t risk going back and die in vain.
He often thought of them and feared for his parent’s safety, living their lives under the control of the evil kingdom. No one from his village came close to the enemy and no one had known the face of the evil king. The difference between his people and the enemy was too vast that it wasn’t even a war. It was like a fight between a crippled man with no weapons in his hands against a healthy man with a gun in his hand. No one helped them. The neighboring villages too fell into the control of the greedy and power hungry. Before long their power, and reign kept on expanding.
During his first days Pian had trouble adjusting with his new life but he knew that if he wanted to continue living he had to eat and keep himself safe. But more importantly he had to get used to the solitude and the emptiness that he began to be aware of more and more.
He started by collecting fruits that he picked up on the ground or climbed up trees to pick them. He even managed to find a safe spot on one of the huge trees to sleep in. this continued for almost a month. He dared not to travel too far from where he had gotten accustomed to.
After a month or so he began adapting to the lifestyle and felt safer living in the wild. Nevertheless he grew tired of being alone and being at the same place. He began thinking and contemplated on expanding his horizons and learning new things as was told by his parents.
He came to a decision and started heading in the direction of knowledge and wisdom. He went on walking in the lands that he was not familiar with. Quite sometime later he reached a river and he stopped there to take a drink and clean himself up.
He began to realize that there were people around him and was quite surprised to meet a group of people walking in the thick forest. Unfortunately he stumbled onto some rowdies. At first he was excited about meeting them. It felt like ages since he had last met anyone. He greeted them and they greeted him back by demanding for his money and belongings.
Pian refused and ended up having to fight the rowdies to save his stuff. But he forgot that he was no longer sparring with his friends and these guys were ruthless and determined. Though he managed to give up a fight he failed to beat them and ended up with his back on the ground all bruised up.
Pian was too weak to continue on with his journey for that day. He yanked himself to the safest spot he could muster, almost immediately closed his eyes. In his sleep he could feel his body freezing and aching. The night was cold, the bruised areas on in his face felt like sharp nails poking through his face. His dream was scary and he dreamt of strange wild animals trying to get a piece of him. His stomach was empty but he remained there unmoved, too weak to do anything else.
When morning came he felt the sun shining on his face and he felt relieved that it was daylight. He went to wash himself at a nearby river and drank the fresh water till he couldn’t anymore. Later he went looking for food to feed his empty stomach.
He could still feel the pain in his bones as he walked with his stomach churning badly. He managed to get a hold of some fruits that fell to the ground. He sat down and ate them. Pian then gathered a few more, took out a cloth he had with him and laid it on the ground. He picked up the fruits and placed in the cloth and tied a knot. He was feeling a little better and felt that he had gain some energy from the fruits he ate.
As he went on with his journey he met the same bullies that hurt him the day before. He cursed himself for being so unlucky and for not picking a safer route. They laughed and teased him as they saw him walking. He was too weak to run. And as expected the rowdies again wanted what he had with him. He fought back with as much strength left in him. He failed to protect his belongings again and fell to the ground as the bandits walked away laughing joyously.
This time his body ached more severely than it did the day before. He cursed them and vowed to become stronger. That night, he had trouble sleeping and when he finally managed to get some sleep he was awoken again by the nightmares. He felt really weak and sick but he just laid there, violated by the pain and the bad dreams.
This continued to happen quite frequently for a period of time. No matter when and which route he went the bullies always managed to bump into him. It couldn’t be coincidental, he thought. He figured that he must be cursed and what made it worse was each time he confronted them, he lost to them. Even when he didn’t have anything for them to take they’d harass and beat him up and screech at him.
However as the saying goes, ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’. Pian too became a better fighter and a stronger person both mentally and physically. He began thinking of what he did wrong and how to face the three bullies more effectively. He no longer had the nightmare that he used to. For the days to come he had become more and more efficient and comfortable living in the jungle. Building a fire wasn’t a problem and he even could light a fire using damp sticks. He started eating meat that he had managed to get. He also learned several skills like hunting, fishing, cooking and sewing.
One day as he was traveling further away heading towards the mountains away from the neighboring villages; he remembered on how the people he had met and the people in his village used to talk about the mountains for being treacherous and magical.
As he was approaching the mountain he once again met with the 3 bullies that he loathed. But they appeared to be different this time; they had different expressions in their face. Their expressions were grim and they were just staring sharply as they walked past each other. One of them called out and said, ‘don’t go into the mountains.’ He knew that something was wrong but he didn’t bother to ask and that was the last time he saw the 3 petty thieves.
After that he didn’t encounter any humans. He traveled deep into the thickest forest. The bites from small insects didn’t bother him anymore; either that or he was already immune to it. The thickness of the jungle didn’t scare him anymore. Occasionally when he came across animals that were too strong for him he’d climb up a tree and wait for it to leave...Most of the times he slept and rested on higher grounds or on huge trees with giant branches sprouting out from them.
Finally after weeks of walking he could see the immense mountains in front of him. He walked on, passed a few and stopped at one. It had several huge openings that resembled entrances. It was a cave he realized and as he found out later, there were several more holes that led to somewhere he was oblivious to.
Pian decided to make a small fire with what he could find and with what he had brought with him and as he did that he heard a voice calling towards him. He was shocked at first but the voice he heard was old and gentle.
‘Hey you, Hey you boy.’ he turned around and saw a white figure sitting on a rock. Pian replied, ‘why didn’t I see you before? And yes?’ The white figure gestured with his hand for Pian to come closer to him. As Pian got closer he realized that the figure was of and old man who was fair, had a white turban on his head and had a long beard that reached his belly. He wore a long white robe and despite the dusty cave his clothing looked new and unaffected by the dirt and dusts.
‘Yes?’ Pian enquired again. ‘It is not polite to ask too many questions boy.’ the old man said. He looked like a man who had gone through a lot in his life and he was charismatic as he spoke. And before Pian could say that he was sorry the old man spoke again, ‘come and sit next to me, and before that introduce yourself starting with your name.’ the old man stopped and waited with his eyes closed as if listening attentively.
Pian introduced himself and when he told the old man about his name and how he got his nick; the old man shook his head and almost shouted, ‘how stupid people can be at times and what a stupid name you have.’ He paused and added, ‘wait it might not be as stupid just strange.’ Pian got mad hearing that but he didn’t want to be disrespectful so he shook the thought off his head.
‘Now let me tell you about myself.’ The old man said. Before he could start introducing himself he stopped for a moment, and added, ‘why waste time introducing myself, it’s not like that’s important. It’s been such a long time since I’ve talked to someone. I have so much to share. But not my name’
Pian got annoyed and interrupted the old man and asked in an annoying tone, ‘Whyy? why do I have to listen to what you say old man?’ and as soon he finished, Pian noticed that the old man now had a bamboo stick in his hand. He was sure that he didn’t have one before. Pian enquired with his eyes wide opened, ‘where did you get that from?’ the cave around him began to light up a little. The only replied that he got from the old man was, ‘Bend over.’ He said in a soft tone but in the barely lighted and emptiness of the cave his voice transcended a very sharp, strict voice to Pian’s ears. Pian slowly bent over and the old man still sitting on the huge rock swung the long bamboo stick and struck Pian’s butt. The pain was excruciating, it felt like his flesh were torn But he dared not check.
Pian now seated next to the old man and was listening attentively to what the old man was saying. He sat beside the old man for almost 3 days now only stopping for eating and sleeping. He really had so much to tell, pian wondered where he got these stories from. Though some were boring but there were some that was interesting and fun to listen to. The old man was a good story teller. He spoke of almost everything, His childhood, his teachers, wives, sons, daughters, grandsons and his enemies.
On the fourth day he said, ‘my mouth is getting tired, I think I should rest it a little.’ Pian smiled at the old man and thanked God for that.
The old man then asked about Pian’s reason of traveling alone and his reason of coming to the cave. Pian then told him about why he had to get out from his home and what he wanted to gain in his journey. The old man listened carefully and nodded as Pian spoke. He even patted Pian’s back probably sympathizing him. Finally he nodded again and said, ‘I understand.’ He paused looking a little unsure at first but then said, ‘I can help you accomplish your goals.’ He closed his eyes and appeared to be thinking of something, he resumed, ‘but in return you have to live with me, listen and do everything I say. Secondly you’re only to leave when I think you’re capable of doing so.’
Everyday since then, Pian was occupied with doing the things that the old man wanted him to do and listening to his stories. Every morning he had to jog and find for food. His jogging route and timing were the same and he had to return at a precise time. He had to always stay close to the old man.
‘Come here boy with a stupid name.’ he called one day and as Pian sat close to him, he said, ‘firstly, I’ll teach you to write with, it would be a shame if you didn’t know how to write.
His day consisted of several learning sessions; the old man did as he promised. Pian was happy and felt fortunate that he had met the old man. He felt like he was really improving. And when the old man taught him on how to defend oneself, he learned diligently.
After a few months the Old man said that he was going to teach Pian something important for his well being the old man taught him on how to meditate and its techniques and on the several ways and on which techniques to apply according to what he wanted to accomplish. Pian had to learn and meditate like the old man did. And for a while it seemed like the only thing they did.
It did introduce him into a whole new world and to something that he never thought existed.
Although at times the old man’s request was too much, for instant he’d asked Pian to climb up the cave and gather bird’s nest and when Pian denied, the old man would threaten him with his bamboo stick. However Pian felt better now that he didn’t have to live alone and better still he had learned many things about the world and him self that he was oblivious to all this while, Having the old man as a blessing to Pian.
The old man also taught him on how to be more contemplative with what he heard and see and on his own accord figure out whether it was something he could believe in or not.
But the old man as usual prioritized meditation, he always said, ‘by meditating one learns many things including facing his own fears and getting to know oneself better. When one has reached a certain level he can journey through the worlds and experience many things just by meditating’ he added. Hence, Pian had to practice on his meditation for hour’s everyday.
After what seemed to be more than a year of being with the old man, the old man stated, ‘I think it’s time for me to go home now or else my wife would start to worry.’ Pian couldn’t believe what he heard at first, ‘but I thought your wife was dead and you didn’t have a home.’ He stated in an angry tone. The old man almost chuckled, ‘let this be another lesson to you, never trust what you hear a 100% always contemplate and have doubts about what you see and hear. Pian felt lied to and was angry but he couldn’t be angry with the old man. So he reluctantly with his head down said, ‘ok.’
‘While I am gone, continue doing what I taught you for another 2 months and after that consider your lesson over, and with that you are free to do what you want.’ The old man gently lifted his right hand. Pian responded after a few idle seconds on looking at the old man took it with both of his, bowed and kissed it. He said, ‘thank you’ and just like that the old man vanished.
The next morning, Pian woke up and walked around restlessly and made him self busy by gathering sticks for the fire, making himself food to eat, tidying up the place and reading some of the old man’s note. Once he felt that he was ready to get some rest, he made his bed and tried to sleep.
He was so used to the old man’s presence that he now felt empty and alone. He wanted to leave the dark cave that was filled with bats, snakes and insects. Nevertheless he adhered to the old man’s words and continued with his lessons. Pian concentrated more on his meditation that helped him calm his nerves and explore his boundaries. He was good at it now and could travel in his exploration and learn many things while just sitting on a rock with his eyes closed.
The nights were especially lonely for Pian, not having the old man feed him strange stories and teach him new stuffs. Pian felt sad not having someone to confide in and not having his only friend by his side.
Pian spent more and more of his time meditating and venturing into place he never been before. His master had warned him about going to strange places. And about meditation in which not everyone gains the outcome that they intended. It was like going on a journey in one’s own mind accompanied by thoughts and fantasies.
During one of these sessions he met with a woman who appeared to be glowing white wearing a long white cloak and claimed that she had the power to foretell his future. Pian was intrigued and so she began, ‘as u start to journey out from this cave to make a change, as told by the old man you have to find people who shares the same goal as you do and come up with a plan to terminate your ever so powerful enemy. And so you begin recruiting, you will realize how much you differ from other people and have difficulty dealing with them but you still try to adapt and stick to your goal. Your friends would eventually betray you; you will fall prey to the beauty of women and to the luxury of life that you will forget your goal and die as a diseased filthy man. She waited for his respond and when he didn’t say anything she resumed, ‘don’t waste your life.’
She stood back after that and a very thin old man with balding white hair and a cigarette in his mouth who looked a little like Carl Jung stepped close enough and said, ‘your enemy has no conscience it was a nation that was once tortured. The healthy man does not torture others; generally it is the tortured who turn into torturers. If you go against them they’ll deceive, torture, tempt you and use any ways they can to fail you. They’re like the brothers of the devil who has no morals and values and will stop at nothing.’ He looked at Pian’s worried expression and said, ‘your faith will be decided as soon as you make up your mind to fight against them. Pian looked confused now the man then shouted, ‘you will fail!’
Pian tried to calm himself down and concentrated on doing so but now the woman and the old man stood side by side Pian’s surrounding turned into a beautiful garden. It was filled with colorful flowers, brids chirping, cute animals and a stream that smelled sweet. They both simultaneously said in a soothing voice, ‘take our hands and you’ll live a happy life for the rest of your life. You don’t have to go through hardships anymore. All you have to do is take our hands.’ and with that they extended their hands to him. Pian was confused as he looked at them and he was almost mesmerized by them.
Suddenly the old thin man disappeared leaving the woman in the cloak behind. She removed her long cloak and as it hit the ground. Pian noticed that she looked like too beautiful and he realized that she was wearing a very transparent white dress. He could see her round full breasts from her transparent dress. Pian was mesmerized.
But as he was heading towards her he thought about the old man and noticed his surroundings changing once again and he was alone again in pitch black. The old man his master was back and stood in front of him, he appeared to be furious. The old man appeared in front of him and told him, ‘how much vulnerable more can you get my foolish student?’ he shouted, ‘to simply listen and believe in what you hear, have I not taught you anything?’ And apart from the old man everything else was black. He stood there with his white and transcending himself in the darkness. The old man moved his hands a little. Pian’s surrounding changed at first into a green sunny day with great trees and sparkling rivers.
Pian was astounded by what he was experiencing the exact place changed into a dry, hot place. Pian could feel his discomfort and the heat made him sweat a little. As he looked at the old man it changed again into a place filled with snow instantly changing into white. ‘Miracles are not a test, and anyone can perform miracles. You must always come back to your basic and the fundamentals of your beliefs. Do not be fooled by their handy works.’
He woke up the next day fresh and relieved. He realized that it was already time for him to leave the cave. He got ready and once he was prepared he started towards his village. Pian was ready to face his enemies and prepared to learn and experience newer things.
Second Chance
He sat there on his chair before his desk. He was precariously going through the drawers in it, searching for something. And while he was fiddling in the last drawer he finally found what he was looking for...his sketch book.
He took it out, cleared his table and laid it directly in front of him. He started to take long deep breathes to calm himself down, his hands shaky from the ruckus he caused. He always knew that taking long slow breathes always managed to calm people down and enables them to focus again.
It didn’t quite work this time. He was still feeling unwell and from the looks of it. He had this look when people had when they were really afraid of something. It was potrayed in his face.
He once again opened the top drawer of his desk looked for something and took out his spare spectacles. He started off reading and focusing on it, his thoughts were now fully concentrated on what he was reading.
'I looked at him in the mirror utterly amazed, I don’t know what happened.
Although I knew inside me what had happened was bizarre enough to the extent of inexplicability. It felt so normal, normal just like every other day. Who would’ve known or expected something like this. It was so rude and abrupt.
I was just waking up, and as I opened my eyes I started abruptly walking down a familiar street. I stopped and stood there still trying to digest what was happening to me. The weather was really hot; it felt as if the sun was just a few feet away from me. It was dry, as dry as my mouth was at that time. I began to feel that the sun had something personal against me. It hated me, the way it shone, I knew it.
There was no one around; the road was filled with cars. The traffic lights changed colors from green, orange and red. It never stopped it was just going from one color to another, Making me more scared and uneasy. No one was in their cars. It was as if everyone else was invisible.
I held my head with both hands, trying to calm down and come up with a logical reasoning to what I was witnessing. I tried to come up with one but nothing came. So I tried again, and after a couple of minutes of futile trying, I gave up.
Never before have I experienced anything like this before and the things I experienced before can’t explain what I was going through now. I decided to just keep on walking. I took off my shirt and tied it on to my head, to protect it from the evil sun. Who at that time I perceived had a personal agenda against me.
And just like that, without any warning the tar covered street turned into a place I no longer recognized and as I continued on, the tar road then turned into to a muddy road, dried up nonetheless. i thought of water and was certain that If there was a little mudhole and had a puddle of water in it, I would’ve drunk it.
It felt like I was on a desert, though I’ve never been to one before. My mind was going crazy, I couldn’t think straight. The heat was getting into me. I was giving into the pain and as aimless as I was I kept on walking in hope that I something would change.
And as expected I noticed something changing; the weather changed. It wasn’t as hot as it was before; I started to experience a great relief for a few seconds. The sun was going down and replaced by the clouds in the sky. The weather almost instantaneously started to change before me and just like that from hell hot it turned to a malicious cold, cold night. I kept on moving, not wanting to think but the pressure was too much and I started cursing. Cursing anything and everything especially myself. It was snowing; I stood there with my head looking upwards not believing what was happening. The day turned to night and the familiar scene of a Disney movie when it was Christmas was reliving in front of my eyes, only without the merry sounds of bells or music. Come to think about it there was nothing merry about it. It was pitch black, except for the now visible moon. The street was filled with cold snow
I knew I couldn’t take it anymore. I wasn’t used to whatever it is that’s happening to me and I wasn’t used to the type of weather. I knew that if I was exposed any longer, I would literally freeze and turn into an ice sculpture.
Amidst the pitch black surroundings, I now with my hands to the ground managed to locate a place I figured would be a suitable place for refuge. The ground was sloping down; I climbed down carefully the huge rough walls. When I reached down, my hands were caressing the rough walls. As I continued walking with my hands on it. I found a hole in it, it was like a tiny tunnel and fortunately big enough for me to fit in. I went deeper in until I was too tired to continue forward.
I checked my pockets for some thing and if possible a lighter, though I don’t smoke and never carried a one before. I could’ve sworn that, that was the worst I have ever felt. The chills getting into every bone in me and in to my head, I curled up, trying to get some warmth. But I started to aware of the place, the place stank. It was a stink hole I was in. My head was pounding, I tried to get myself in control but I was too weak. I thought to myself that everything that was happening was just some really vivid, sick dream.
It was so surreal and so intense that all I could think of is to find an escape. I forgot all about my worries and the things that used to trouble my life. It all came to this one moment. The present was so important and decisive. I was anticipating something to happen, really fast. I wanted this obstacle before me to pass. I laid there in the stink and not wanting to look at the ground, shaking so severely, getting weaker by the second.
Waiting for a change but it just got clearer and clearer.I closed my eyes really hard trying to escape from this dreaded-ness but there was no difference in closing my eyes or keeping it open. It was the same darkness everywhere. My head unable to think was numb. My nerves were thumping; I didn’t know what to think of or what to focus on it was just static... but with a helpless feeling that only made me feeling worse.
I gave up; there was no more fight in me. I laid there just waiting for something to happen, but nothing did. Something really shocking happened then, I noticed that this nightmare was nothing different to my present life. I was in a bind and waited for things to change, for them to get better. But I just lived on hoping for a change that would make things better. It didn't and apparently just living alone wasn’t enough.
I sat down resting my back at the wall behind me. I didn't care about the smell or how dirty it was. What was more revolting than the sheer emptiness and the inability to change something. At that time I felt small, tiny and an icy giant hand was clenching my whole, but just not hard enough to let me out of my misery. Suddenly I realized I wasn’t afraid of the darkness anymore. Was I adapting? I started to think again.
This wasn’t any different from my present. It was just more vivid and the real difference was, this felt as if someone really heavy was shoving my unhealthy thoughts into my face and making me face it and making sure that my eyes were opened to witness and feel it.
I was staring at them; Flashes of events, thoughts… were parading as my eyes were opened. All those moments in my life, passing forth and back; I laid there looking at them not knowing what to do.
I imagined getting out from the dark hole and seeing a light...
He took it out, cleared his table and laid it directly in front of him. He started to take long deep breathes to calm himself down, his hands shaky from the ruckus he caused. He always knew that taking long slow breathes always managed to calm people down and enables them to focus again.
It didn’t quite work this time. He was still feeling unwell and from the looks of it. He had this look when people had when they were really afraid of something. It was potrayed in his face.
He once again opened the top drawer of his desk looked for something and took out his spare spectacles. He started off reading and focusing on it, his thoughts were now fully concentrated on what he was reading.
'I looked at him in the mirror utterly amazed, I don’t know what happened.
Although I knew inside me what had happened was bizarre enough to the extent of inexplicability. It felt so normal, normal just like every other day. Who would’ve known or expected something like this. It was so rude and abrupt.
I was just waking up, and as I opened my eyes I started abruptly walking down a familiar street. I stopped and stood there still trying to digest what was happening to me. The weather was really hot; it felt as if the sun was just a few feet away from me. It was dry, as dry as my mouth was at that time. I began to feel that the sun had something personal against me. It hated me, the way it shone, I knew it.
There was no one around; the road was filled with cars. The traffic lights changed colors from green, orange and red. It never stopped it was just going from one color to another, Making me more scared and uneasy. No one was in their cars. It was as if everyone else was invisible.
I held my head with both hands, trying to calm down and come up with a logical reasoning to what I was witnessing. I tried to come up with one but nothing came. So I tried again, and after a couple of minutes of futile trying, I gave up.
Never before have I experienced anything like this before and the things I experienced before can’t explain what I was going through now. I decided to just keep on walking. I took off my shirt and tied it on to my head, to protect it from the evil sun. Who at that time I perceived had a personal agenda against me.
And just like that, without any warning the tar covered street turned into a place I no longer recognized and as I continued on, the tar road then turned into to a muddy road, dried up nonetheless. i thought of water and was certain that If there was a little mudhole and had a puddle of water in it, I would’ve drunk it.
It felt like I was on a desert, though I’ve never been to one before. My mind was going crazy, I couldn’t think straight. The heat was getting into me. I was giving into the pain and as aimless as I was I kept on walking in hope that I something would change.
And as expected I noticed something changing; the weather changed. It wasn’t as hot as it was before; I started to experience a great relief for a few seconds. The sun was going down and replaced by the clouds in the sky. The weather almost instantaneously started to change before me and just like that from hell hot it turned to a malicious cold, cold night. I kept on moving, not wanting to think but the pressure was too much and I started cursing. Cursing anything and everything especially myself. It was snowing; I stood there with my head looking upwards not believing what was happening. The day turned to night and the familiar scene of a Disney movie when it was Christmas was reliving in front of my eyes, only without the merry sounds of bells or music. Come to think about it there was nothing merry about it. It was pitch black, except for the now visible moon. The street was filled with cold snow
I knew I couldn’t take it anymore. I wasn’t used to whatever it is that’s happening to me and I wasn’t used to the type of weather. I knew that if I was exposed any longer, I would literally freeze and turn into an ice sculpture.
Amidst the pitch black surroundings, I now with my hands to the ground managed to locate a place I figured would be a suitable place for refuge. The ground was sloping down; I climbed down carefully the huge rough walls. When I reached down, my hands were caressing the rough walls. As I continued walking with my hands on it. I found a hole in it, it was like a tiny tunnel and fortunately big enough for me to fit in. I went deeper in until I was too tired to continue forward.
I checked my pockets for some thing and if possible a lighter, though I don’t smoke and never carried a one before. I could’ve sworn that, that was the worst I have ever felt. The chills getting into every bone in me and in to my head, I curled up, trying to get some warmth. But I started to aware of the place, the place stank. It was a stink hole I was in. My head was pounding, I tried to get myself in control but I was too weak. I thought to myself that everything that was happening was just some really vivid, sick dream.
It was so surreal and so intense that all I could think of is to find an escape. I forgot all about my worries and the things that used to trouble my life. It all came to this one moment. The present was so important and decisive. I was anticipating something to happen, really fast. I wanted this obstacle before me to pass. I laid there in the stink and not wanting to look at the ground, shaking so severely, getting weaker by the second.
Waiting for a change but it just got clearer and clearer.I closed my eyes really hard trying to escape from this dreaded-ness but there was no difference in closing my eyes or keeping it open. It was the same darkness everywhere. My head unable to think was numb. My nerves were thumping; I didn’t know what to think of or what to focus on it was just static... but with a helpless feeling that only made me feeling worse.
I gave up; there was no more fight in me. I laid there just waiting for something to happen, but nothing did. Something really shocking happened then, I noticed that this nightmare was nothing different to my present life. I was in a bind and waited for things to change, for them to get better. But I just lived on hoping for a change that would make things better. It didn't and apparently just living alone wasn’t enough.
I sat down resting my back at the wall behind me. I didn't care about the smell or how dirty it was. What was more revolting than the sheer emptiness and the inability to change something. At that time I felt small, tiny and an icy giant hand was clenching my whole, but just not hard enough to let me out of my misery. Suddenly I realized I wasn’t afraid of the darkness anymore. Was I adapting? I started to think again.
This wasn’t any different from my present. It was just more vivid and the real difference was, this felt as if someone really heavy was shoving my unhealthy thoughts into my face and making me face it and making sure that my eyes were opened to witness and feel it.
I was staring at them; Flashes of events, thoughts… were parading as my eyes were opened. All those moments in my life, passing forth and back; I laid there looking at them not knowing what to do.
I imagined getting out from the dark hole and seeing a light...
2008
My inability to come up with a so to speak mind boggling or just plain bitchy and boring entry has resulted to this. Explanation on why I didn’t couldn’t come up with these entries. Yes, you might think that I am so full of myself but if you’ve been reading my previous entries this should certainly be of no surprise.
Well I’ve been telling myself that I should write more and read more and do this and do that to enhance productivity/ keep busy and be happier. Yes, it makes me happy when I know that I’ve been doing useful deeds and get this feeling of self fulfillment which leads to me being a happier person. Come to think about it, doesn’t that applies to everyone in general?
Anyways I don’t read as often as I should. I’ve got plenty of books stacked up in my room but they’ve become some sort of antique ornament that collects dust. Solely because I used to read a lot when I was at work and now I don’t anymore. I realized that no matter how free you are at work, one should always pretend to be busy and act as if one’s chasing a dead line. By doing so you shell yourself from envious eyes and petty works that no one wants to do. All in all as the saying goes, ‘safety first’. The office is a treacherous place.
And hey, this whinny little piece would be my first entry for the New Year. Let’s not be a girl now and worry about tiny little things that don’t matter anyways. Having said that, I am becoming more and more sensitive with New Year’s, birthdays, marriages, old pictures, old people, and just about anything that reminds me of how old I already am. It makes me think of how far I’ve gotten and what I’ve accomplished. Yes this is leading to a disastrous path, so I’ll change subjects. I’d like to wish everyone a happy New Year and a more meaningful, purposeful life.
On the other hand, what an ugly thing this world is today. Yes we all know that nature is pretty and full of amazements but I am referring to how the world is today and primarily pointing towards its inhabitants, the people. I know that I don’t have enough understanding, the ability to already forecast on how and where the human generation is leading or being led. But I notice on how the human populaces are getting more ignorant, selfish, insensitive, careless, etc.
I also probably don’t have the right to be stating such things; but it will eventually get there, if the leaders continue to be cruel, intolerant, not willing to sacrifice and ignorant. A dark, frightening future is what we are heading towards. I hope I am just being a pessimist and that others out there are more of an optimist than I am.
Finally my New Year’s resolution will still be the same as it was on previous New Years. I wish everyone happiness and such and not forgetting to lead a healthier life hehe. And again not forgetting that we all read and write more. Thank You for reading.
Cerita Orang
“This isn’t a lie or a tell tale. It is as real as life is in dreams…in which before you wake up you had no idea that it was a dream”.
I read it aloud in a sharp, steady tone. Making it easier for me to comprehend what I just read out. Subsequently thought to myself on how it would feel to suddenly wake up and discover that the present now wasn’t as real as I thought it was. And on how many times more I’ve to wake up till I finally discover the true real life that has been so elusive for something that’s supposed to be…real.
I knew it belonged to someone in my family and it isn’t appropriate to read other people’s personal belonging but I was too intrigued now. my curiosity shadowed my judgment and guilt. I returned my gaze to what I was holding and once again resumed reading but this time in a lighter more cautious tone, ‘I curse myself, I am cursed! Though I clearly know that what truly matters is within and not on the surface.’
‘But the next minute I see something attractive I am attracted to it. And when I see something that is not, I look away. I know that I am not supposed to but it seems to be in my nature to react that way.’
‘I ask myself again, do I understand that it’s what’s inside that count? I nodded a little in agreement but still with a slight amount of hesitation, I realized. As I write this I am aware that I am not able to come up with an answer without a certain amount of uncertainty. I think about it and am saddened by it. I have to free myself from this curse but clueless I am in which path I should undergo in order to lift the curse.’
I once again jumped pages, this time on the top right it stated, ‘June 9th 1989’. I studied the place around me. Listening for any sound or movements and then looked at places vulnerable to intrusion and I stared at them for a while. When I was satisfied that I was completely alone I continued.
I read it aloud in a sharp, steady tone. Making it easier for me to comprehend what I just read out. Subsequently thought to myself on how it would feel to suddenly wake up and discover that the present now wasn’t as real as I thought it was. And on how many times more I’ve to wake up till I finally discover the true real life that has been so elusive for something that’s supposed to be…real.
I knew it belonged to someone in my family and it isn’t appropriate to read other people’s personal belonging but I was too intrigued now. my curiosity shadowed my judgment and guilt. I returned my gaze to what I was holding and once again resumed reading but this time in a lighter more cautious tone, ‘I curse myself, I am cursed! Though I clearly know that what truly matters is within and not on the surface.’
‘But the next minute I see something attractive I am attracted to it. And when I see something that is not, I look away. I know that I am not supposed to but it seems to be in my nature to react that way.’
‘I ask myself again, do I understand that it’s what’s inside that count? I nodded a little in agreement but still with a slight amount of hesitation, I realized. As I write this I am aware that I am not able to come up with an answer without a certain amount of uncertainty. I think about it and am saddened by it. I have to free myself from this curse but clueless I am in which path I should undergo in order to lift the curse.’
I once again jumped pages, this time on the top right it stated, ‘June 9th 1989’. I studied the place around me. Listening for any sound or movements and then looked at places vulnerable to intrusion and I stared at them for a while. When I was satisfied that I was completely alone I continued.
“Everyone is one only divided by phase and circumstances”
I take that what he wrote above was the title of this time’s writing. I continued venturing lower, the hand writing a little messy than before but nevertheless readable. But I liked it anyhow it was small but not too small and it showed the complexity of the writer. It was the sort of cursive looped hand writing.
‘It is known that that there are people around us. Some who we consider luckier and some who are not as, but at times I feel as the most wretched of all, like everyone’s detestations were arrowed towards my direction. That God himself was repentant of my life. Could all this feeling be caused because I feel only for myself?
I stopped, looked around me once again, took a deep breath, trying to clear my mind. I had trouble understanding what he wrote this time so I skipped a several pages, it went, ‘we were there sitting on a couple of long metallic poles that was sticking out of the asphalt road that could fit 5-6 people on it. The seats were green in colour. It was a noisy night and the air smelled of exhaust smoke, cigarette smoke and garbage. Then I realized a huge dustbin that had rubbish piling up and sticking out of it -- my friends next to me were busy looking at passerby’s as there were many passerbies’s that night. Some were tourists, some locals, hawkers and just people from everywhere. Everyone seemed busy with their lives walking towards a destination.
There were people right ahead of where we were sitting; just a few feet away, street vendors were merchandising their goods. They sold goods from socks, hand bags and anything sellable. I look at their children who came with their parents. Little kids who should be at home sleeping at this hour. Their clothes dirty with dust, food stains and the colours appeared seasoned and washed off.
I noticed one of the little ones chasing a cockroach that was making its way on the street, heading to somewhere in particular. And a child followed the cockroach obviously intrigued by it—the cockroach as if annoyed of being followed made its way to the middle of the street, it made a bad decision, a huge mistake and was soon trudged by giant oblivious feet that were directed to somewhere. It tried to persevere and struggle to move to a safer place but that was the end of another toy. I too instantaneously without remorse moved on.’
The weather outside was getting dark and so was the inside. I put the reading material I was holding down. Stood up and made my way to the windows and yanked the curtains open. Despite being dark, it looked peaceful and still. Breeze blew in my face, I could feel it caress my skin and the coolness of the wind was cold but rejuvenating. I smiled a little, felt at ease and relaxed once more. I walked a little, switched the light on, sat on the floor, picked the thing lying on the floor and resumed reading it.
‘I was now concentrating on the vendors every movement and was more focused on how they reacted with the customers, towards their children and with each other. For some reason they didn’t notice or didn’t care of my sharp stare. I was studying them trying to come up with an answer. I spotted weariness in their face apart from that I couldn’t tell. I look at them keeping an eye at their kids and calling them when they were playing out of boundary. I saw the way they smiled, it was real. Was it contentment? I asked myself. And why do they smile? I questioned again.
‘For what reason do they strife so hard? A life that is filled with hard work, in order to earn an earnest living and that no matter how clean their lifestyle is, They’re are still at the bottom of society and will still be looked down at – a life without respect and acknowledgement and so little value…A life that even fails the ‘hierarchy of need’ according to the Maslow’s theory, a theory nonetheless.’
‘My friends didn’t seem to share my thoughts and whenever I mentioned things such as this; their reply would be of how I should think about myself first and that I am in no position of saying that I am any better in life. This was life and I am part of it, this is how it works and i am not capable of changing the way it works. Be realistic they’d say, and told me to accept and grow up. It was true, I guess u agree with them.
“Saraah, Saraaahh.” I heard. Someone calling my name, I Once again placed the material I was reading on the floor. I peeked out the window hurriedly but found no one. The voice was familiar but one that I couldn’t recognize. I said to myself that my mind was probably playing games with me. It looked like it was about to rain outside. I inhaled the fresh air in as if trying to cleanse my lungs with it. The cool air was as refreshing and had a way in keeping me at ease. I looked at my surroundings once again and when I thought it was safe. I moved back to where I was and picked up the reading material.
‘I didn’t see a reason on why they resolve to such a life. I decided to try and put myself in their shoes, in their world, I closed my eyes. A few minutes passed I could hear the racketing from the street but my thoughts were somewhere else, concentrating. As I opened my eyes, I realized that it was more about means of surviving compared to anything else. Not to chase wealth but to live, eat; feed, and for shelter. It is true that some gets it easier than others.
Surprisingly enough I could see happiness in their eyes when they smiled. Maybe it was the right thing for them to do. Accept life and be content and be grateful. But what about their children, haven’t they noticed that the life of their infants were as bleak if not darker than present? They’d most probably end up where their parents are, doing the same things their parents did. “You are the product of your environment; your parents’ wealth determines your future.” A friend told me that once. I never have forgotten it. He might’ve said it out of anger, but it made sense.
Life is unfair and so are dreams that start out pleasantly but only leads to nightmares and more nightmares -- To an extent that you no longer anticipate your future but fear it.’
I didn’t feel like continuing. I forwarded a few pages and stopped at the last paragraph. I wanted to know hot it finishes, ‘the next afternoon I woke up with stitches on my head and bruises all over my body. My body ached so badly and it even hurt to even shift a little. I shouldn’t have gone over to the hawkers and state my opinion on what a terrible mistake they have done by bringing children into the world. Despite the hurt, it somewhat elevated the weight on my shoulders that I felt last night, at least momentarily. It was expected from the hawkers – their actions, they were cursed too, with a life, with surviving skills, ignorance and pride.’
I closed the book… exhausted from the reading. I felt my head all clogged up, I got up and decided to get out and indulge in something more relaxing and cheerful.
I take that what he wrote above was the title of this time’s writing. I continued venturing lower, the hand writing a little messy than before but nevertheless readable. But I liked it anyhow it was small but not too small and it showed the complexity of the writer. It was the sort of cursive looped hand writing.
‘It is known that that there are people around us. Some who we consider luckier and some who are not as, but at times I feel as the most wretched of all, like everyone’s detestations were arrowed towards my direction. That God himself was repentant of my life. Could all this feeling be caused because I feel only for myself?
I stopped, looked around me once again, took a deep breath, trying to clear my mind. I had trouble understanding what he wrote this time so I skipped a several pages, it went, ‘we were there sitting on a couple of long metallic poles that was sticking out of the asphalt road that could fit 5-6 people on it. The seats were green in colour. It was a noisy night and the air smelled of exhaust smoke, cigarette smoke and garbage. Then I realized a huge dustbin that had rubbish piling up and sticking out of it -- my friends next to me were busy looking at passerby’s as there were many passerbies’s that night. Some were tourists, some locals, hawkers and just people from everywhere. Everyone seemed busy with their lives walking towards a destination.
There were people right ahead of where we were sitting; just a few feet away, street vendors were merchandising their goods. They sold goods from socks, hand bags and anything sellable. I look at their children who came with their parents. Little kids who should be at home sleeping at this hour. Their clothes dirty with dust, food stains and the colours appeared seasoned and washed off.
I noticed one of the little ones chasing a cockroach that was making its way on the street, heading to somewhere in particular. And a child followed the cockroach obviously intrigued by it—the cockroach as if annoyed of being followed made its way to the middle of the street, it made a bad decision, a huge mistake and was soon trudged by giant oblivious feet that were directed to somewhere. It tried to persevere and struggle to move to a safer place but that was the end of another toy. I too instantaneously without remorse moved on.’
The weather outside was getting dark and so was the inside. I put the reading material I was holding down. Stood up and made my way to the windows and yanked the curtains open. Despite being dark, it looked peaceful and still. Breeze blew in my face, I could feel it caress my skin and the coolness of the wind was cold but rejuvenating. I smiled a little, felt at ease and relaxed once more. I walked a little, switched the light on, sat on the floor, picked the thing lying on the floor and resumed reading it.
‘I was now concentrating on the vendors every movement and was more focused on how they reacted with the customers, towards their children and with each other. For some reason they didn’t notice or didn’t care of my sharp stare. I was studying them trying to come up with an answer. I spotted weariness in their face apart from that I couldn’t tell. I look at them keeping an eye at their kids and calling them when they were playing out of boundary. I saw the way they smiled, it was real. Was it contentment? I asked myself. And why do they smile? I questioned again.
‘For what reason do they strife so hard? A life that is filled with hard work, in order to earn an earnest living and that no matter how clean their lifestyle is, They’re are still at the bottom of society and will still be looked down at – a life without respect and acknowledgement and so little value…A life that even fails the ‘hierarchy of need’ according to the Maslow’s theory, a theory nonetheless.’
‘My friends didn’t seem to share my thoughts and whenever I mentioned things such as this; their reply would be of how I should think about myself first and that I am in no position of saying that I am any better in life. This was life and I am part of it, this is how it works and i am not capable of changing the way it works. Be realistic they’d say, and told me to accept and grow up. It was true, I guess u agree with them.
“Saraah, Saraaahh.” I heard. Someone calling my name, I Once again placed the material I was reading on the floor. I peeked out the window hurriedly but found no one. The voice was familiar but one that I couldn’t recognize. I said to myself that my mind was probably playing games with me. It looked like it was about to rain outside. I inhaled the fresh air in as if trying to cleanse my lungs with it. The cool air was as refreshing and had a way in keeping me at ease. I looked at my surroundings once again and when I thought it was safe. I moved back to where I was and picked up the reading material.
‘I didn’t see a reason on why they resolve to such a life. I decided to try and put myself in their shoes, in their world, I closed my eyes. A few minutes passed I could hear the racketing from the street but my thoughts were somewhere else, concentrating. As I opened my eyes, I realized that it was more about means of surviving compared to anything else. Not to chase wealth but to live, eat; feed, and for shelter. It is true that some gets it easier than others.
Surprisingly enough I could see happiness in their eyes when they smiled. Maybe it was the right thing for them to do. Accept life and be content and be grateful. But what about their children, haven’t they noticed that the life of their infants were as bleak if not darker than present? They’d most probably end up where their parents are, doing the same things their parents did. “You are the product of your environment; your parents’ wealth determines your future.” A friend told me that once. I never have forgotten it. He might’ve said it out of anger, but it made sense.
Life is unfair and so are dreams that start out pleasantly but only leads to nightmares and more nightmares -- To an extent that you no longer anticipate your future but fear it.’
I didn’t feel like continuing. I forwarded a few pages and stopped at the last paragraph. I wanted to know hot it finishes, ‘the next afternoon I woke up with stitches on my head and bruises all over my body. My body ached so badly and it even hurt to even shift a little. I shouldn’t have gone over to the hawkers and state my opinion on what a terrible mistake they have done by bringing children into the world. Despite the hurt, it somewhat elevated the weight on my shoulders that I felt last night, at least momentarily. It was expected from the hawkers – their actions, they were cursed too, with a life, with surviving skills, ignorance and pride.’
I closed the book… exhausted from the reading. I felt my head all clogged up, I got up and decided to get out and indulge in something more relaxing and cheerful.
Never Mind
I closed my eyes; I was listening to a beautiful music. I don’t remember the name of it but it was a product of many instruments combined that made one feel serenely in peace, at least for a split second. It’s as if I was living in a fairy tale filled with loving creatures and everything so colorful….before the awakening.
I realized that I was dreaming, dreaming about the peace and even dreaming of the music I was hearing. I was actually walking from nowhere significant to somewhere. My journey was pointless but moving about looked like it held a purpose.
As I continued walking, I remembered when I was sitting side by side with her on a wooden bench. I was slanting on it with my head tilted upwards, looking at the blue sky. She was sitting straight, almost on the edge of the bench looking at the scenery with a smile on her face. Her posture was utterly feminine and she looked so gentle and fragile, I could smell the faint smell of her perfume that at that time was the sweetest scent, because of its wearer.
Although that particular phase of my life was chaotic and filled with making the right decisions. But whenever I was with her, I felt that I didn’t need to think of anything else but her presence. It’s hard to explain what was going through my mind, but at that time her happiness meant the world. I know that I won’t be able to feel such things of absolute foolishness anymore, to be so vulnerable and believing in things that only realize in movies.
I just went up to her and said that I’d like to spent some time with her, I was acting bold but my expressions and my stuttering gave me away, she looked oblivious to my discomfort but surprisingly agreed to my invitation. That was how we got to know each other.
I got to know her better and I liked her even more. She did to but to a different outcome. I tried to get her to like me back but to no avail. She seemed so sure about it that she convinced me that she didn’t like me and that I didn’t like her too.
I was back in the present now, in disbelief, on why I allow myself to think about those kind of stuff. I shook my head, disappointed in the choices of thought I chose to put in my head.
I am now back, once again in the office talking to my child on the phone, who said his teacher wanted him to buy some fishes for a school project. After I hung up, I was complaining to my colleagues of not having sufficient money to keep on buying stuffs but still wanting to fulfill any of his wishes. And I thought to myself that after nearly twenty years of working my luck still hasn’t change. I look at the young colleague who sits a few feet away eyeing me. I bet he was even listening when I was expressing myself to my colleagues, that bastard. I don’t know if it was just me but I noticed him shaking his head, I am not sure. But I don't care, I don't.
I am walking again, come to think about it I have always been walking…you might think that I was getting somewhere but I just keep on walking not getting to grasp any dreams, nor gaining any wisdom.
I changed the song that was playing inside my head; it was rather boring and not cheerful, this time to something more jovial. The scene changed and I was now walking along a happier path.
I was still walking but with ease and really content with my life. I started to think of the things that I have and come to realization that I am happy, at least as happy as everyone else is. As I think that everyone is just as happy as everyone else is. It is the people who judge each other wrongly.
Selamat Hari Raya
Hello...Selamat Hari Raya Aidilfitri and may everyone be in peace and at ease.
p.s. Cat Stevens Rocks!!
p.s. Cat Stevens Rocks!!
Turmoil
He sat there on his chair facing the desk, precariously searching for something in it. And while he was fiddling in the last drawer he found what he was looking for, a book. He took it out, cleared his table and laid it directly in front of him. He started to take deep breathes to calm himself down, his hands shaky from the ruckus he caused. It took him a couple of minutes until he could focus again.
He once again opened the top drawer of his desk and brought out a blue color ball pen. He started off scribbling so fast as if pouring his thoughts out…I looked at him utterly amazed, I don’t know what happened, but I knew that what had happened was bizarre enough to the extent of inexplicability. It all felt so normal, normal as every other day, I was just about to wake up, and as I opened my eyes I was already abruptly walking down a familiar street. I stood still trying to digest what was happening to me. The weather hot, it felt as if it shone was directly on me, it was also dry, dry as my mouth was. I knew that the sun had something personal against me, the way it shone, I knew it.
There was no one around, the road was busy with traffic but there were no one in their cars. It was as if everyone else was invisible, I clasped my head with both hands, trying to calm and come up with an explanation to what I was witnessing. Again, after a couple of minutes of trying, I gave up. Nothing I experienced before can explain what I was going through. I decided to just move forward. I took off my shirt and tied it on to my head, to protect it from the evil, ever so glaring sun.
Soon the tar covered street was a place I no longer recognized and as I continued the tar road now replaced by a muddy road, a dried up muddy road. It felt like I was on a desert, though I’ve never been to one before. As aimless as I was I wanted to keep on walking in hope that I would exit this…realm. As I was walking I noticed something changing; it wasn’t as hot as it used to be. I felt a great amount of relief for a brief moment. I could see the sun going down and was covered by the clouds in the sky. The weather almost instantaneously started to change before me and just like that from hell hot it turned to a malicious cold.
I was now, not thinking but a walking and cursing being, I cursed at everything including and especially myself. It was snowing; I stood there with my head looking upwards not believing what was happening. The day turned to night and the familiar scene of a Disney movie when it was Christmas was reliving in front of me, only without the merry sounds of bells or music or anything merry about it. It was pitch black, except for the now brightly lit moon.
I knew I couldn’t and that my body couldn’t take it anymore. I wasn’t used to this type of weather. I knew that if I was exposed longer, I would turn into an ice sculpture. Amidst the pitch black surroundings, I now almost crawling managed to locate a place I thought would be a suitable place for refuge. It was sloping down; I climbed down carefully the huge rough walls. When I reached down, my hand was caressing the rough walls as I walked by it I found a hole in it, it was like a tiny tunnel or something and fortunately big enough for me to fit in. I went deeper in until I felt that I shouldn’t go any further.
I checked my pockets for some thing and if possible a light, though I don’t smoke and never carried a lighter before.
I could’ve sworn that that was the worst I ever felt. The chills getting into every bone in me and in to my head, I curled up, trying to get some warmth. My head was pounding, I tried to get myself in control but I was too weak. Everything that’s happening is just some sort of sick dream. It was so surreal and so intense that it was all primarily about me. I hadn’t had the slightest flash of my family or friends. My thoughts were in the present, dwelling in the obstacle before me. I laid there shaking so severely, getting weaker by the second.
I closed my eyes really hard trying to escape from this dread-ness but there was no difference in closing my eyes or keeping it open. It was the same tone of darkness everywhere. My head paused, my nerves thumping; I didn’t know what to think of or to focus on it was just static but with a helpless feeling that only made me feeling worse. I gave up; there was no more fight in me. I laid there just waiting for something to happen. In what seemed like years of torment. I sat down resting my back at the wall behind me. It was revolting, the sheer emptiness. At that time I felt tiny and it was as if an icy giant hand was clenching my whole physical body, but just not hard enough to let me go.
I woke up, feeling paranoid and with an extreme feeling of cautiousness overwhelming me. I took courage to very slowly open my eyes and as I did that everything around me appeared normal once again. After what happened before, nothing could shock me. The pain I felt physically was all gone now. I crawled out from the hole and was now standing at the ground of what appeared to be a huge sewer system.
It was dark, not too warm neither too cold, just the way I liked it. As I climbed out of my refuge I realized that all was still as quiet as it was before. I continued walking; I had to drag my legs to keep on moving. I could sense that I was nearing somewhere familiar. Suddenly there was someone walking towards me, a woman. I was relieved to see someone living once again and hoping that this would be an end to my living nightmare. She had a wooden stick in her hand and as she was around 10 feet from me she threw the stick at me and with great arrow like precision and directly hit my head. Blood was gushing out from my head now. She was no longer there. I took off my shirt once again and covered my head with it.
Finally I reached a path that I recognized; I was never so happy and relieved. I fasten my haste despite my weariness. I reached home, walked towards my room and as soon as I set foot on my room. A gush of rejoice enveloped me, I landed on my bed feeling better than ever. I closed my eyes, appreciating the comfort. I noticed something moving and was making some clattering noise. I slowly opened my eyes, afraid of what I might see this time. With the corner of my eye, I saw a man sitting on my chair and going through my table in haste…
He once again opened the top drawer of his desk and brought out a blue color ball pen. He started off scribbling so fast as if pouring his thoughts out…I looked at him utterly amazed, I don’t know what happened, but I knew that what had happened was bizarre enough to the extent of inexplicability. It all felt so normal, normal as every other day, I was just about to wake up, and as I opened my eyes I was already abruptly walking down a familiar street. I stood still trying to digest what was happening to me. The weather hot, it felt as if it shone was directly on me, it was also dry, dry as my mouth was. I knew that the sun had something personal against me, the way it shone, I knew it.
There was no one around, the road was busy with traffic but there were no one in their cars. It was as if everyone else was invisible, I clasped my head with both hands, trying to calm and come up with an explanation to what I was witnessing. Again, after a couple of minutes of trying, I gave up. Nothing I experienced before can explain what I was going through. I decided to just move forward. I took off my shirt and tied it on to my head, to protect it from the evil, ever so glaring sun.
Soon the tar covered street was a place I no longer recognized and as I continued the tar road now replaced by a muddy road, a dried up muddy road. It felt like I was on a desert, though I’ve never been to one before. As aimless as I was I wanted to keep on walking in hope that I would exit this…realm. As I was walking I noticed something changing; it wasn’t as hot as it used to be. I felt a great amount of relief for a brief moment. I could see the sun going down and was covered by the clouds in the sky. The weather almost instantaneously started to change before me and just like that from hell hot it turned to a malicious cold.
I was now, not thinking but a walking and cursing being, I cursed at everything including and especially myself. It was snowing; I stood there with my head looking upwards not believing what was happening. The day turned to night and the familiar scene of a Disney movie when it was Christmas was reliving in front of me, only without the merry sounds of bells or music or anything merry about it. It was pitch black, except for the now brightly lit moon.
I knew I couldn’t and that my body couldn’t take it anymore. I wasn’t used to this type of weather. I knew that if I was exposed longer, I would turn into an ice sculpture. Amidst the pitch black surroundings, I now almost crawling managed to locate a place I thought would be a suitable place for refuge. It was sloping down; I climbed down carefully the huge rough walls. When I reached down, my hand was caressing the rough walls as I walked by it I found a hole in it, it was like a tiny tunnel or something and fortunately big enough for me to fit in. I went deeper in until I felt that I shouldn’t go any further.
I checked my pockets for some thing and if possible a light, though I don’t smoke and never carried a lighter before.
I could’ve sworn that that was the worst I ever felt. The chills getting into every bone in me and in to my head, I curled up, trying to get some warmth. My head was pounding, I tried to get myself in control but I was too weak. Everything that’s happening is just some sort of sick dream. It was so surreal and so intense that it was all primarily about me. I hadn’t had the slightest flash of my family or friends. My thoughts were in the present, dwelling in the obstacle before me. I laid there shaking so severely, getting weaker by the second.
I closed my eyes really hard trying to escape from this dread-ness but there was no difference in closing my eyes or keeping it open. It was the same tone of darkness everywhere. My head paused, my nerves thumping; I didn’t know what to think of or to focus on it was just static but with a helpless feeling that only made me feeling worse. I gave up; there was no more fight in me. I laid there just waiting for something to happen. In what seemed like years of torment. I sat down resting my back at the wall behind me. It was revolting, the sheer emptiness. At that time I felt tiny and it was as if an icy giant hand was clenching my whole physical body, but just not hard enough to let me go.
I woke up, feeling paranoid and with an extreme feeling of cautiousness overwhelming me. I took courage to very slowly open my eyes and as I did that everything around me appeared normal once again. After what happened before, nothing could shock me. The pain I felt physically was all gone now. I crawled out from the hole and was now standing at the ground of what appeared to be a huge sewer system.
It was dark, not too warm neither too cold, just the way I liked it. As I climbed out of my refuge I realized that all was still as quiet as it was before. I continued walking; I had to drag my legs to keep on moving. I could sense that I was nearing somewhere familiar. Suddenly there was someone walking towards me, a woman. I was relieved to see someone living once again and hoping that this would be an end to my living nightmare. She had a wooden stick in her hand and as she was around 10 feet from me she threw the stick at me and with great arrow like precision and directly hit my head. Blood was gushing out from my head now. She was no longer there. I took off my shirt once again and covered my head with it.
Finally I reached a path that I recognized; I was never so happy and relieved. I fasten my haste despite my weariness. I reached home, walked towards my room and as soon as I set foot on my room. A gush of rejoice enveloped me, I landed on my bed feeling better than ever. I closed my eyes, appreciating the comfort. I noticed something moving and was making some clattering noise. I slowly opened my eyes, afraid of what I might see this time. With the corner of my eye, I saw a man sitting on my chair and going through my table in haste…
Wheels
As he laid there unmoving on his bed, staring at the white ceiling in his room and taking pleasure in the weather, the gentle wind made the curtain in his room blow up as it passed.. He looked outside the windows, the sky outside was starting to look dark and was covered with dark clouds. He let out a slight gasp and as he closed his eyes, using both of his hands to support his head despite the fact that he was already laying on a couple of pillows. There was no notion of him disrupting the comfort he was feeling, he laid, trying to banish every thought that came into his mind. Wanting to let go completely, until one random one came in and got his attention.
It happened some time ago when a beggar who was collecting his toll pausing briefly at each occupied table, and when he stood beside them and as they paid him. After saying thank you, he added these sentences as a gesture of thank you;
“The century we live in is connected with many issues but not with faith and ideology.” And with that the beggar muttered some other things and walked away.
He knew that he had heard or read the quote somewhere, so he went to the nearest library, the book shelves outside his room. He had two words in particular in mind, century and ideology. After a few minutes of eagerness and almost anxiously looking for it, he found the book he was looking for. It was an old book, its covers crumpled and the pages yellow. He went back into his room, shut the door and sat down with the book in his hands.
He randomly opened it and started to read what was printed on the page.
“Great thinkers of history with their limited sources could gain knowledge and come to a certain revelation, knowing and understanding what most people nowadays wouldn’t possibly come to think of. People, who managed to come up with beliefs and many other important discoveries, their main and most important tool being their culture and mind.
At first I came to think that there weren’t many things that are left to be discovered anymore. Everything that we think of, could think of, someone else has already thought of it. Nothing that we do or think can be considered the very first anymore. The notion of nothing is new and that nothing new can be created has somewhat polluted and de-motivated people from wanting to exceed their predecessors. But it also occurred to me that though it isn’t some new discovery to the world, it’ll still be an astonishing, important knowledge acquired by the learner.
And then there is the ever going sensitivity towards the people who does or tries something different than the already prescribed way. They’d either be looked at as people who don’t abide by rules or renegades that are a threat to the system and to the traditions.”
After finishing that particular page, he once again flipped a few pages and began to read what it had to say, “Of course the normal man, nowadays rather not talk about the creation of the sky or the self or his purpose in this universe, but consider these questions and subjects as a nuisance and not of importance. The worst part about them is that they don’t respect nor listen and to add up to that, to these shallow minds it evokes their ego whenever a sensitive subject is brought up.
It happened some time ago when a beggar who was collecting his toll pausing briefly at each occupied table, and when he stood beside them and as they paid him. After saying thank you, he added these sentences as a gesture of thank you;
“The century we live in is connected with many issues but not with faith and ideology.” And with that the beggar muttered some other things and walked away.
He knew that he had heard or read the quote somewhere, so he went to the nearest library, the book shelves outside his room. He had two words in particular in mind, century and ideology. After a few minutes of eagerness and almost anxiously looking for it, he found the book he was looking for. It was an old book, its covers crumpled and the pages yellow. He went back into his room, shut the door and sat down with the book in his hands.
He randomly opened it and started to read what was printed on the page.
“Great thinkers of history with their limited sources could gain knowledge and come to a certain revelation, knowing and understanding what most people nowadays wouldn’t possibly come to think of. People, who managed to come up with beliefs and many other important discoveries, their main and most important tool being their culture and mind.
At first I came to think that there weren’t many things that are left to be discovered anymore. Everything that we think of, could think of, someone else has already thought of it. Nothing that we do or think can be considered the very first anymore. The notion of nothing is new and that nothing new can be created has somewhat polluted and de-motivated people from wanting to exceed their predecessors. But it also occurred to me that though it isn’t some new discovery to the world, it’ll still be an astonishing, important knowledge acquired by the learner.
And then there is the ever going sensitivity towards the people who does or tries something different than the already prescribed way. They’d either be looked at as people who don’t abide by rules or renegades that are a threat to the system and to the traditions.”
After finishing that particular page, he once again flipped a few pages and began to read what it had to say, “Of course the normal man, nowadays rather not talk about the creation of the sky or the self or his purpose in this universe, but consider these questions and subjects as a nuisance and not of importance. The worst part about them is that they don’t respect nor listen and to add up to that, to these shallow minds it evokes their ego whenever a sensitive subject is brought up.
However, the normal man has a point here seeing that, to them it doesn’t really make a difference by knowing or not knowing the answers of questions such as that when the true goal here is material not knowledge.”
He closed the book for a while as if to digest what he just read, took a deep breath and opened it, again randomly. “Recently, I had the opportunity to meet thinkers who regard themselves as intellectuals. Although proved to be smart thinkers on specific subjects and people who read. They tend to dwell amongst themselves and have the air of arrogance around them perhaps as their shield from threats. They consider themselves to be on a superior level than the common lot and think of themselves as a group of elitist. Now what we have is the so called elitist looking down at the materialist and the materialist views this group of “elitist” as a group of rebellious outcasts, who can’t fit in society.
Of course knowing or understanding something that others don’t, can make one feel superior but I think that, that’s one of the challenges of how one deal with his knowledge and remain unaffected by what he knows. To me a person who is wise has to be in peace with oneself and not want to prove his superiority to others.
Note: Some of the points here might not be precisely accurate seeing that I translated it from a different language and so the translation might not be as perfect as the original. Points were taken from the book ‘Ideologi Kaum Intelektual’, Ali Syariati
He flipped a couple of pages and came upon the stages of development in Europe, at the back of his head he thought of how Averroes played a very crucial part in the rise of Europe.
“The 17th century came in as the intellectual class that was released by the influence of the churches. Intellects, free and conscious, able to think, find, analysis and evaluate everything critically, selectively and assertively. Different from the past traditionalists, these new intellects were attracted to methods and critical analysis.
Subsequently followed by the 18th century known as the rise of nationalism and the freedom of revolution. The 18th century also was a humanitarian century. The intellects of that time had analytical thinking and a way of thinking that is curious and leads to explorations. They carried democracy, freedom, humanism and the French revolution.
The 19th century was an ideological century. You’d be able to see how Europe systematically grows. Its evolution was with par with the mental ability of a single individual. Though at one time it was backward, step by step it became to know itself. Consequently Europe came to face fanaticism.
Its revolution helped itself gain the freedom of thinking; and became an expert in analyzing every little thing and coming up with many different theories. Towards the 19th century Europe was blessed with a special and clear confidence- a type of ideology.
During that period too Europe produced plenty of huge ideologies, to the extent that existentialism which dominated the 20th century was owned by the century. Many important figures were from this century. Fascism, Socialism, Marxism and Sentimentalism are also connected to the 19th century.
But the 20th century that we live in is a huge disappointment/draw back. This is the century, in which is the beginning of the power crazed class and wealth/material lovers. With power and money, they conquer the mind and the leading philosophers of this era.
They cleverly built up the learned minds of this century to make a general assumption that knowledge is neutral and doesn’t support a specific side, and also doesn’t have any relations in the development of man in a higher level.
Knowledge as they claim, is no longer interested in the relation of how something has to be; it only relates to the relation of ‘why’ and ‘what’. They say it depends on the ideology whether or not to include themselves or not include themselves with the question, ““how a certain thing or a concept should be.”” By degrading knowledge into a neutralist position, the group of thinkers and learned people of the century let themselves lose from the ideals and questions that are of a higher level than man, and so they prepare themselves to become students of power and wealth. Constrained in their labs, head of academics, corporations, capitalists, republics and etc. knowledge is no longer made available and is insufficient to provide and to benefit the meanings of the human ideal.
Hence, this century has been married to money. The belief that knowledge wasn’t meant to bring resolution, or to bring forward protests and is of importance to the future, is now the general mode that is followed by all modern universities. That is the knowledge of this century.
Nowadays knowledge is only related with external facts, with objective analysis and research per se. But if knowledge is separated from the divisions of problems, of mankind and society, if it can’t rise/ defend the opposed society, to govern and rule their ascend and their revolution, help and lead them towards the ways of advancement and development, to reach directions and their ideals and if knowledge is not hoped to tell man of what he has to do and who he really is, then is there a different alternative?”
After reading that he looked for the word ‘Ideology’ and he went through the book till he found it, it went like this, “members of sociology have defined each type of influences, but not realizing that there is an influence that is of most important and valuable. That influence is a specific influence which is not knowledge, technology, art, religious sect or social politics.
It is a special realization, I like to call it “human self consciousness” what does that human self consciousness means? As long as human civilization, thinkers who gave/ helped in shaping mankind have dug out that consciousness but no one was able to grasp it precisely. To the extent of popularizing it universally like the other branches of knowledge. This self consciousness shines like lightning, it glimmers, and lights up its surrounding and instantaneously vanishes. That is the type of consciousness in history.”
He looked at the book, starred harder, he realized that he was starting to feel drowsy and with that he closed his book and put it on the table, climbed on his bed and laid on it, and after a few moment laid there unmoving on his bed staring at the white ceiling in his room and taking pleasure in the weather that brought with it soft cool breezes. He looked outside the windows, the sky outside wasn’t too dark but were covered with dark clouds. He let out a slight gasp and as he closed his eyes…
He closed the book for a while as if to digest what he just read, took a deep breath and opened it, again randomly. “Recently, I had the opportunity to meet thinkers who regard themselves as intellectuals. Although proved to be smart thinkers on specific subjects and people who read. They tend to dwell amongst themselves and have the air of arrogance around them perhaps as their shield from threats. They consider themselves to be on a superior level than the common lot and think of themselves as a group of elitist. Now what we have is the so called elitist looking down at the materialist and the materialist views this group of “elitist” as a group of rebellious outcasts, who can’t fit in society.
Of course knowing or understanding something that others don’t, can make one feel superior but I think that, that’s one of the challenges of how one deal with his knowledge and remain unaffected by what he knows. To me a person who is wise has to be in peace with oneself and not want to prove his superiority to others.
Note: Some of the points here might not be precisely accurate seeing that I translated it from a different language and so the translation might not be as perfect as the original. Points were taken from the book ‘Ideologi Kaum Intelektual’, Ali Syariati
He flipped a couple of pages and came upon the stages of development in Europe, at the back of his head he thought of how Averroes played a very crucial part in the rise of Europe.
“The 17th century came in as the intellectual class that was released by the influence of the churches. Intellects, free and conscious, able to think, find, analysis and evaluate everything critically, selectively and assertively. Different from the past traditionalists, these new intellects were attracted to methods and critical analysis.
Subsequently followed by the 18th century known as the rise of nationalism and the freedom of revolution. The 18th century also was a humanitarian century. The intellects of that time had analytical thinking and a way of thinking that is curious and leads to explorations. They carried democracy, freedom, humanism and the French revolution.
The 19th century was an ideological century. You’d be able to see how Europe systematically grows. Its evolution was with par with the mental ability of a single individual. Though at one time it was backward, step by step it became to know itself. Consequently Europe came to face fanaticism.
Its revolution helped itself gain the freedom of thinking; and became an expert in analyzing every little thing and coming up with many different theories. Towards the 19th century Europe was blessed with a special and clear confidence- a type of ideology.
During that period too Europe produced plenty of huge ideologies, to the extent that existentialism which dominated the 20th century was owned by the century. Many important figures were from this century. Fascism, Socialism, Marxism and Sentimentalism are also connected to the 19th century.
But the 20th century that we live in is a huge disappointment/draw back. This is the century, in which is the beginning of the power crazed class and wealth/material lovers. With power and money, they conquer the mind and the leading philosophers of this era.
They cleverly built up the learned minds of this century to make a general assumption that knowledge is neutral and doesn’t support a specific side, and also doesn’t have any relations in the development of man in a higher level.
Knowledge as they claim, is no longer interested in the relation of how something has to be; it only relates to the relation of ‘why’ and ‘what’. They say it depends on the ideology whether or not to include themselves or not include themselves with the question, ““how a certain thing or a concept should be.”” By degrading knowledge into a neutralist position, the group of thinkers and learned people of the century let themselves lose from the ideals and questions that are of a higher level than man, and so they prepare themselves to become students of power and wealth. Constrained in their labs, head of academics, corporations, capitalists, republics and etc. knowledge is no longer made available and is insufficient to provide and to benefit the meanings of the human ideal.
Hence, this century has been married to money. The belief that knowledge wasn’t meant to bring resolution, or to bring forward protests and is of importance to the future, is now the general mode that is followed by all modern universities. That is the knowledge of this century.
Nowadays knowledge is only related with external facts, with objective analysis and research per se. But if knowledge is separated from the divisions of problems, of mankind and society, if it can’t rise/ defend the opposed society, to govern and rule their ascend and their revolution, help and lead them towards the ways of advancement and development, to reach directions and their ideals and if knowledge is not hoped to tell man of what he has to do and who he really is, then is there a different alternative?”
After reading that he looked for the word ‘Ideology’ and he went through the book till he found it, it went like this, “members of sociology have defined each type of influences, but not realizing that there is an influence that is of most important and valuable. That influence is a specific influence which is not knowledge, technology, art, religious sect or social politics.
It is a special realization, I like to call it “human self consciousness” what does that human self consciousness means? As long as human civilization, thinkers who gave/ helped in shaping mankind have dug out that consciousness but no one was able to grasp it precisely. To the extent of popularizing it universally like the other branches of knowledge. This self consciousness shines like lightning, it glimmers, and lights up its surrounding and instantaneously vanishes. That is the type of consciousness in history.”
He looked at the book, starred harder, he realized that he was starting to feel drowsy and with that he closed his book and put it on the table, climbed on his bed and laid on it, and after a few moment laid there unmoving on his bed staring at the white ceiling in his room and taking pleasure in the weather that brought with it soft cool breezes. He looked outside the windows, the sky outside wasn’t too dark but were covered with dark clouds. He let out a slight gasp and as he closed his eyes…
Folktale Story
I have been having this problem of coming up with new made up stories for my blog, nothing comes to mind, nothing inspiring so far. I figured that since I can’t come up with any tales I might as well update my blog by giving reasons on why I weren’t able to update.
I have to say that I feel a lot more stressed out than I was a few months back. I am not sure if what I am expressing has any truth in it, it could just be more excuse for not being more disciplined and productive. Though I like to think that I’ve been emotionally unhealthy and therefore, less productive. The need for some sort of escape also arises, an attempt to somewhat try to get myself on track. This could also be a mere excuse for wanting to indulge in some form of leisurely and fun activities. You hear yourself saying, ‘I need this.’
I have to say that I feel a lot more stressed out than I was a few months back. I am not sure if what I am expressing has any truth in it, it could just be more excuse for not being more disciplined and productive. Though I like to think that I’ve been emotionally unhealthy and therefore, less productive. The need for some sort of escape also arises, an attempt to somewhat try to get myself on track. This could also be a mere excuse for wanting to indulge in some form of leisurely and fun activities. You hear yourself saying, ‘I need this.’
This story is not a made up one, at least not by me, I heard this a long time ago and I just happen to remember it, anyways, without further ado.
In an ancient time where people weren’t very much different than the people today, there lived two brothers. They lived in a double storey house, in which the upper part belonged to one and the lower to the other. The elder one which had the upper part of the house was a very pious man and had been meditating for as long as one can remember. He was 50 years old and so was the younger brother.
The younger one however was the opposite of his brother and despite his age, still very inclined to material pleasures. A bad example of man, and also a bad influence to young learners who aspire to become less inclined to worldly pleasures.
One night, while the younger one was sleeping and the older one meditating, they both came to a realization. The older one came to the think that, all his life he was being so tedious and that he left out on the pleasures that life had to offer. He decided that he should enjoy life while he still could; he went down to meet his younger brother, to ask him to expose him to life’s pleasures.
On the other hand, his younger brother thought differently, he was thinking that he had been a bad human and he came to the realization that no matter how much he enjoyed himself, nothing lasted for long and no matter what, he wasn’t able to find inner peace. He thought about this for a while and decided that he should change his life. He decided to go upstairs and ask his brother to teach him and guide him.
Both of them overcome with joy with their new resolution and they ran to the stairs anxiously. As they were on the staircase and eager to meet each other, the brothers bumped into each other and fell down the stairs. The brothers died and the younger one went to heaven while the older one went to hell.
