Moving on

Forgiveness paves the way for self-realization. It puts the past behind us, and move us ahead. Past is past, there is nothing you can do, save reflect purposefully. Forgiving ourselves is as important as forgiving others, if not more. Everybody is the same.

I am nobody, and so are you. See, the beauty of the human race is that it forms a larger single entity, how we the constituents react to each other, and how we behave, forms a dynamic interaction which is humanity.

To forgive yourself, allows you to focus on what's now. Humans lack resources to make up for every injustice, sin, wrong or crime. We all fall within the bigger scheme of things.

Now listen, you only exist for the most a hundred years, but humanity is here to stay, and we've done so for the past 300 millennia, a job well done. But take note; your productivity and service is at it peak in your youth, your leadership and wisdom is valued when you've passed the age of 40. But once you've passed through all those phases, there's no turning back. It's like driving a race car, and you're approaching a sharp bend, it's now or never, you have to do it right.

Get it going now. Don't stop.

Obsession

It is said that there is desperation within every human being. It was a sermon I heard a few years back. Still a secondary school student, and not accustomed to the outside world, it provides me a preview of what life to most adults are.

We're desperate for something, desperate for attention, desperate for fame, desperate for success.

Is this the common thread of humanity? We are obsessed with how we feel, our needs, desires or ambition, that pausing at one point would reveal the ludicrousness of our preoccupation. Sometimes by our conscious strength we remind ourselves that, or we try to be content with what we're blessed with. But none of that can guarantee that we won't resume our obsession thereafter.

If we have nothing to live for, but ourselves or if what only concerns God is our happiness, wouldn't it be wise to just let go of all that? If we doggedly pursue our obsession, whether it is noble, materialistic or ingenious, wouldn't that send us further down into the pit of obsession, until it become so hard for us to reach for the surface?

Would we dare to just give up everything, return to our families, return to our home, the simple nostalgia of villages and small towns, the breath of untainted air, the pristine scene of untouched landscape and the sounds of birds chirping in the early morning while they swirl above your heads? Imagine this, think of how our obsessions has ruined other lives until it become a vicious cycle where it calls for the obsessions of others to rectify the previous ones. How a boy who suffered from early injustice, how he witnessed a disparity between the people he met and the values that he was taught. He would have grown obsessed with his own mission to rectify all that. How the Malay nationalism causes a young Chinese man to give up on comfortable life, only to meet his death right before his marriage, before he could see his son. How past colonialism carved an embarrassing scar on the psyche of the Middle East that further become the breeding ground for extremism and intolerance. How these ideologies took hold in a Southeast Asian country where it becomes irreconcilable with other coexisting beliefs.

Think, your obsession is not the solution of your predicament.

Transience

Continued from Hell, And so it ends and A new friend

Dennis jumped up from his sleep. A horrible nightmare it was. The surrounding was dark. At the age of six, this nightmare would be remembered for the rest of his life, much to his ignorance.

Tears were welling in his eyes. He now learnt to fear what he sees and loves at present. He now realized that the persons whom he called mother and father would one day be gone from his life to an unknown destination.

He leaped from his bed and ran to his parents' bedroom. The knob refused to give way. He stepped back and his instincts prompted him to hit the door. Instead he let himself fell to floor, buttocks first.

Cuddled to his knees, in the cold night with the occasional wind blowing down the corridor, Dennis knew not what to make of his dreams. The transience of the world shocked him. How to love when you know they'll only go away eventually? When the cold winds seem more permanent than the warm embrace of his mother. I pity this boy who have to see all this at a very early age, that he knows what he could not comprehend yet. What's more of the predicaments that is about to befall on him as he grows up.

Dennis, knowing him as I know him, rose to his feet and turned to his bedroom. Wiping off the tears off his cheeks, for reasons that are not immediately apparent to him, he decided to let himself forget what had confronted him. Tucking himself into bed, he closed his eyes and awaited the other day.

By a single thread

Life seems to be hanging by a single thread, as the sun sets by.

Nothing seems permanent, save our endless quest for eternity and bliss.

What are we, if we’re just these beasts fooled into thinking we’re meant for something more than the animals could claim from nature.

It’s sad to think that our world revolves around dreams and ambitions, spinning and spinning in the ever endless cycle of struggle over who is the fittest.

Are we not haunted by the fear of being miserable and of inconsequence? Did we not later cloak it with some higher abstract values or far-fetched ambition worthy to be counted as standing out from the many useless selfish and ruthless desires.

God, where are you?

Fuck it, what is this shit!

At the dialysis centre

It’s 10 a.m., and there was only dull silence; accentuated by the sound of the machines’ pumps and wheels, as well as the occasional dim screech. Some of its patients coughed; many are covered in blankets, and the man from just across the floor was peeling the wrappers off his sweets with one hand while the other lay motionless as its blood flows out in unnatural rhythm; through the plastic thin tube, then squeezed on by the wheels so that the blood flows to the rest of the machine. The cleaning process occurred in a tube; not dissimilar to the one you would use to filter water.

My mother was lying next to me in her inclining chair, as she too partook in this treatment together with the other 30 or so patients. About an hour ago, the nurse superintendent came to help my mom to set up the dialysis machine. With a book in my hands, I could only sat idly by as she ran her hands all over the tubes and pressing the machine’s buttons with the skill and speed that impressed as much as it confused me. But one can’t help to wonder what lies behind that diligence which a woman in her 50s had exhibited; what could have spurred her on to take up such a demanding job.

I know that I face with a personality crisis of sorts; I desire to succeed as a lawyer, or in any capacity to make a meaningful difference for this world, but somehow reality demands that I adopt a certain set of behaviors and attitudes. It spells practicality, and it may connote little of my values and idealism. It’s something that makes you say, “If you can’t beat them, join them.” But what use are your endeavors if they only extend and propagate the kind of culture and expectation that I vowed myself to defeat. I see, with some sense of disappointment, how some people have to maintain a certain distance and adopt a certain attitude to command respect and control. Sometimes it smacks of arrogance, conceit and utter ignorance of the kind of difficulties others may have, the predicament which we may not understand, but whose plight we seek to reduce. That is one example of many compromises that the world demands and I’m not sure if I want to travel down that road.

On this Merdeka day, I decided to participate in the fasting of Ramadhan, for a day at least; and it’s neither difficult nor as bad an experience. I think I’m enjoying it. It seems fasting really helps you to achieve a degree of inner peace; your mind becomes more focused and purposeful when you’re resolved to abstain from the gratifying effects of food and drink. You feel empowered. My own motivation for fasting isn’t for reasons that are spiritual in nature. It’s practical for I think it’s a good way to discipline myself. But more importantly, I learn patience.

For the world may demand compromise, but I can outmaneuver it with patience.

Salam Satu Malaysia dan Selamat Berpuasa.

Purpose

My cousins have grown up a lot. I used to play with them when I was a teenager. Now the eldest sister seemed to have shed her chubby cheeks. Her smile now is far more meek than it was cheerful as it used to be. The younger brother doesn't change much in terms of look, just the size. You could imagine him like an oversized teddy bear. He has grown away from the cuddly adorable type to a more grumpy cute one.

As my aunt guided them out of the house, I made a few laughs (trying my best to be friendly) and greeted them goodbye. But she just left with hardly any glance at me, not even a slight one.

If my purpose lies in making this place a better one for the people around me, for whose benefit really are my struggles? What is the meaning of my ambition? Is it merely to boost my self-esteem and status? Or was it for the people, as a contributory act to vindicate their pains, to prove that the values they want to hold dear to is nothing short of real and workable? But if people were the reason that I hold strong to my ideals, than it must be the people I am closest to, or I've encountered for the most part of my life, who occupy the top of the list. They must have been in my mind in deepest of my struggles, to give me strength. Maybe except for my family and a few friends, this is not the case.

The truth is I am not sure to what extent my own family really understand the nature and the purpose of my struggles. The other truth is I am helplessly distant from my relatives, even the ones who helped me a great deal. I felt that there are certain injustices that my family suffered for which I hold deeply-buried grudges against the world.

I still lived and persevered to undo this state of existence, this is as much I know. It feels like an unending crusade in the middle of a hostile desert. You see victory nowhere close in hand. Worse, you can't even be sure what your fight amounts to.

How it feels to 'win'

Victory was sweet indeed. Our hearts wrenched in silent anxiety just moments ago, then relieved and glad that our efforts paid off.

And so erodes away my doubt as to the value of hardwork, discipline and persistent optimism.

I learnt that I need friends like Navin, honest, willing to listen. More importantly, he is sincere enough about my well-being to give his views which are contrary to mine. Jagan, the distance under the hot sun he walked to get me a Coke, so that I'll be fully awake for the afternoon round. Chiew Ee went with him, and by the grace of God, they found a shop selling the soft drink although most shops nearby were closed.

Speaking of Chiew Ee, her empathy makes her a good teammate to work with, a leader whom you can trust. Rebecca, bless this girl, ever mindful of her place among her friends and family. The encouragement and the praise she gave, assures you that whatever and however you do, you'll get some recognition from a friend or two.

Had it not been for them, the journey to Ho Chi Minh would be barren and shadowed by clouds of doubt.

It's a story that began with a defeat of an inexperienced team. It began with a coach from the other team who came to join us as we immersed in the sea of sorrow and regret. It went on with our first coach having to leave for South Asia and a hectic office, but his calm wise shadow persist in our minds and values; to be replaced with a newly-graduated lecturer who tried to keep the whole team together for three consecutive tournaments. Today it continues with a team bonded by a common experience and common friends.

I learnt that there is some gratification from knowing that you are 'the best'; but joy, pure joy, comes from knowing that you have played your part well in bringing the ship through the stormy seas to the calm blissful coast. No greater satisfaction can there be than knowing that you have competed honourably (whether you win or lose), and in the course of it all, extend a hand of goodwill to opponents and strangers.

For humanity lives not on food and water; it lives and breathes on the hope that such goodwill shall prevail.