Cave Rats

He marched boldly out of his hole, a dark and smelly concealment of filthy lanes. The stench would have driven even a bug away but these scavengers roamed freely. It was their world and they ruled it their way.

Crown was the leader. He was big, strong and fast. His velvet fur almost seemed elegant but what made him different from the rest of the pack was his articulate crave for scent. He could smell anything and his conclusions were always apt; never doubted.

"I can smell ya' dirty lies. If ya' have been out on Rattery Hills. Them stinkin' high class rats. We come from East End. So we stay here. This is the rule." He warned all the curious minds who probably wanted so much to see beyond the melodorous back alleys.

"Tony said the other side has fresh cheese and even cats talk to rats."

"But Tony is dead. Dead because he deserved to be."

Carl had been listening carefully to each and every word. In his heart he felt the adventures that Tony must have experienced. Not only Tony but Salsa, Corn, Baba and even the once shy and timid Morky. They would have been and lived like a rat. A true rat and not a cave rat.

Yes, the back street rats were known as cave rats partly because they were primitive but mainly because they believed that nothing existed outside, that could give them self-worth. In the cave, they were save and protected. They will always be food fetched from drains and bins. Outside, everything was risky. They didn't like to take risks.

However, once in a while there will be a Tony or Salsa and now Carl who dared to dream, dared to take risks and willed himself outside; only to be martyred by Crown later.

"Ya' stinkin' little bastard. I told ya not to go out. But ya' ain't listening to Crown here."

Carl shivered. He stooped down and looked at Crown's gigantic feet and his dragon tail curled up in flame. He shivered again as he felt Crown's breath at his neck. He was hooked to the ground and Crown's stainless steel claws stuck through his delicate paws causing them to bleed.

"But you have not..." Carl's voice trailed off with his guts as he tried to speak up.

"What? Ya' stinkin' bastard's talking back?"

Without hessitation, Crown chewed into Carl's throat.

Carl opened his eyes and looked straight into Crown's ferocious pupils. He saw nothing but his pathetic reflection.

Hang on, he saw something else. He saw flowers, green grass, trees, birds, a fresh slice of cheese, bread and a beautiful female rat from Rattery Hills smiling at him. How he made friends with a kitten and that they drank from the same bowl of milk.

Carl knew that Crown has never seen any of these. He only ate stinking bread and drank stale milk and forever will be.

Darker than it is

In life we are so concerned with how OTHERS think of us. By virtue of a certain relationship they are of the opinion that they can comment and judge our actions.

Actually, how many times have you made a decision for yourself, for the goodness of your heart and the purity of your soul?

The answer is none.

How pitiful.

Unwritable

Many people asked me how was the stage play.

I don't know what to reply.

I wish I could re-act the whole thing so that they experience what I did.

It is so hard to pour out unwritable feelings. In fact I do not know where to begin. Again and again I am lost for words. Again and again my feelings swirl like dew drops in the desert. How could I put into prose and alphabets something so beautiful? No, it was not beautiful; it was just...

Pardon my leck of originality and allow me to borrow from a broadway musical, "Song and Dance" by Andrew Llyod Webber. Give me space to steal from others their abilities to express what is truly felt for I am unable to portray and begin to describe the depth of emotions compounding me.

I have never felt like this
For once I'm lost for words
Your smile has really thrown me
This is not like me at all
I never thought I'd know
The kind of love you've shown me

Now, no matter where I am
No matter what I do
I see your face appearing
Like an unexpected song
An unexpected song
That only I am hearing

Like an unexpected song
An unexpected song
That only I am hearing

...

Sentimental Me

I suddenly feel romantic. Not in a "I love you" sense. But there is someone whom I miss dearly. For some odd reasons I do have a pounding urge, wanting to see this person again. Not that I will do anything radical or obscene when we meet. Just to say a simple "hello".

At the same time, I fear that reunion would ruin what is already so Perfect now.

But I keep forgeting that nothing lasts forever. Everything changes.

Memory only remains sweet when feelings and perception remain the same. Nevertheless feelings and perceptions rotate like a ferris wheel, influenced by ideas; creations of the mind.

Although for the moment, sentimental me is in control. One second of being together means a life time.

How many life times do we have together?

Nostril

Perfume
Opening a bottle of perfume
Everlasting fragrance
Continuing dream
No right or wrong
Just a scent.

Beautiful
Enchanting
Mesmerising

Engulfing deeper
Reaching further
Getting no where
No exit
No entrance
Perfume
A bottle of perfume

Just a scent...

Just a memory...

Forest in a Tree

Why give up an entire forest because of a Tree?
No matter how captivating is thee
Nothing compares to being free
A forest grows not in a tree.

Following branches of lust
Consuming leaves of deceive
Acidic nectar creates rust
Sweet - oh sweet juice I receive!

A tree gestates in my heart
Nine months of carriage -
My soul gladly falls apart
An apple becomes broken courage.

Wooden windpipes sound the air
Ferns and logs dance with chemistry
Barking dogs awaken a fool's flair
A forest grows not in a tree.

Wafkah

Rasanya, saya tidak akan mendapat apa-apa balasan.
Mungkin saya fikir terlalu banyak.
Nampaknya semua telah berakhir.
Saya tahu.
Saya kenang apa yang sedang berlaku.
Tetapi hati saya tetap pedih dan berharap di dalam dunia ini ada keajaiban.
Sememangnya ia tidak akan berulang lagi.
Sememangnya ia hanya wujud dalam ingatan.
Walaubagaimanapun ia tetap indah.
Mungkin terlalu indah.
Saya enggan melupainya.
Saya tetap terperangkap dalam imbasannya.

Sedar! Sedar! Jangan bermimpi lagi.

Zen Out of Sync

The problem is that when something is filled up to its' brim, then one should stop adding extra fillings. As a result of which is of course, either the container breaks or the substance over flows or both!

To know when to stop is wisdom, knowing why to stop is detachment and knowing how to stop is acceptance.

However, very often there aren't just enough wisdom to go around a busy mind. Whenever something turns out to be good and gives out extreme pleasures, there is bound to be clinging. This leads to the potent believe that the status quo will never change. Therefore, there is no need to learn the acceptance of impermanence.

When flowers blossomed, they die. This is inevitable. Regardless how much fertilizer has been invested, the flower will nonetheless die its' natural death. This is cyclic existence and only an ignorant fool holds onto a fully bloomed flower. Pushing the growth of the flower will only lead to depression and sufferings.

Why not just enjoy the beauty of the flower at its' moment of birth and death?

Let go of this particular flower and another one will bloom and another one and another one.

But clinging onto a dead flower keeps the admirer occupied and locked in a dark room; failing to see the entire forest.

The finale is that everything comes to an end only to begin again. If the end does not transpire neither will the beginning.

Release your clinging to desires and you shall release yourself from sufferings.

Falling Failing

They both sound the same.

Whether I fell and or failed, I am dead.

It is the same old thing and recurring feeling.
Pure attachment and blind love.
There is no such thing as unity because to believe in one thing in itself is to discriminate another.
Who are we kidding?
We are just making cushions for our fall.
Hoping that in the pretext of brotherhood or sisterhood, we can soften the landing caused by our prejudicial acts.

Now that I watch myself more closely, I begin to see how mean I can be.
But again in the name of compassion, I think I chose the right path.
I suppose that's the biggest bunch of junk ever heard and spoken of.

Anyway, I shall go back to producing more junk.

Wishing myself - Happy rotting.

One of the VERY Lucky Ones

I am in Hong Kong and have been since 22nd of April.

There are many things that can't be put into words. It realises the saying that "action speaks louder than words".

The reason of my going to Hong Kong is not important for anyone to understand. Because I am following my heart and doing what is right in accordance to the little voice, which shows to me - something. Something that I can't articulate into structure of sentences. Words are meaningless to describe what happened here. (I am at the Hong Kong airport.)

I will be flying 30 minutes from now leaving behind memories and foot prints; sweet and everlasting memories because they ended here. So shall I leave them where they are most treasured - Hong Kong.

I made two very good friends, well not that they weren't friends before. However this time we had the opportunity to do things together, had the chance to share what is most precious unconditionally. Just two words very sincerely. Thank you, Cat and Biscuit.

From 3.01pm onwards, things will start anew. It will be a fresh horizon and yet another beginning. I am marking time psychologically so that I keep everything about what happened here clean and evolving. So I must leave them here and not carry baggage of happiness home.

Before I pen off, I want Aunty Selena to know that I appreciate her kindness. I know of your almost unnoticable but extremely caring gestures. Thank you for doing them and not only speaking of them. Thank you.

To the lady who calls me "little friend"...
I really don't know what to tell you. Ha ha ha
But I think you will understand.
Because actions speak louder than words.

Ms. Lucy Ching, thank you for sharing your life and love with me. I hope I can be someone's Wor Jie too.

My dear Alice...

Your little friend from Malaysia.

Poetic Death

Why would life do me wrong?
When I didn’t ask to be born
Such a disparagement
Write some criticisms
That life is uncertain
But death is permanent
Life will do me right
I shall gladly live to die
And not live to survive.

The sun rises in the west
and slumbers in the east
Is this erroneous, a mere jest?
Let’s celebrate death with a feast!

For in the final moment, it transpires
That birth ruptures like bursting a star
but will still end when time expires
The date we know not and could be a far
Forget not our era may conclude now
Then, all that lived shall retreat with a bow.

Uncertain is the way of departure
But certain is we will for sure depart
We are all but a mortal creature -
only a small piece on the big chart.

----+----

Happiness contaminates our mind
Am I wrong and should I apologize?
Pain is inherently kind
Am I wrong and should I again apologize?

But pain is happiness
Happiness is pain (Oh my goodness!)
So, can’t then happiness kill?
while pain has the root to heal.

On a balance they both exist
Too much of either
Ah! Tips the scale
One endures - the other will fail.
Moderation helps them to subsist
Life is a mixture of sweet and bitter
Too much of sugar makes the sun pale
Find the middle path, we live, we hail!

Hindu Wisdom

Said the sage Sanatkumara to Narada: "Where one realizes the indivisible unity of life, sees nothing else, hears nothing else, knows nothing else, that is the Infinite. Where one sees separateness, hears separateness, knows separateness, that is the finite. The Infinite is beyond death, but the finite cannot escape death."

-Chandogya Upanishad (excerpted from The Upanishads)

OM SVABHAVA SHUDDHA SARVA DHARMA SVABHAVA SHUDDHO HUM

Internal Bliss

Even though reason is on your side, you must be forgiving; even though justice is on your side, you must be soft-spoken. Master Cheng Yen

***

The train arrived at 11pm. As I walked towards the entrance of the station, I did not see my father's car. I called and told him that I will be at the station at 11pm. Normally he would be there. Today, he was not. Perhaps he was late. I waited for 5 minutes, patiently. And then 10 minutes without feeling agitated. I picked up the phone and called him again. "I am on my way." He sounded hasty and maybe even guilty for being late. I replied, "I am at the train station and not the bus station." without raising my tone of voice even one single bit. "I know! I know!" He said.

I stood underneath the street light and enjoyed the breeze for a while. Looking above me I saw stars that were many light years away. How fascinating the universe is. I smiled and suddenly felt thankful that I am given the opportunity to enjoy the gift of being alive.

My father arrived and I felt even more thankful that I have a father who picks me up from the train station at 11.21 at night.

Isn't life just wonderful?

There cannot be only ONE

Let's cut the bullshit and jump straight into the topic, shall we?
Never mind. I guess the problem is me
If I survive then we shall see
Who is the idiot and who is being silly.

What is uttered seems to be true
But on no! Everyone's got selfish shit to brew
Me, you, him, her and the crew
What's the point of talking to the shrew.

This whole world is full of crazy schisms
Do this do that run the mechanism
Ain't the people behind the only reason
The world is you, me, him, her and not the system.

The pot doesn't stop calling the kettle black
But in reality the pot is equally wack
The mirror is broken and the eyesight's slack
It's not the eyes but the ego that rules from the back.

Following some books and reading the text
Won't get you further from the edge of an axe
Teachers are good and they ain't your Rex
If you merely imitate; you are a figure of wax.

I am still struggling, falling along no path
I may go mad, if I do I am the last to laugh
If I tell you that I see the Buddha
I am swimming in the sea of dukkha.

In the mean time, my Kris and Alice
Will sing me to sleep and give me some peace
To things I think, I am not ready to release
Let me stupidly love and later be punished.

Ciao!

Enemies at the Gate

The Self is simple
Deep within
Undisturbed
Unconcerned
Undefiled
I am everything the self is not
It is not a religion
It is not about Lord Buddha
It is about the Self
The atman
The Brahman within
Call it what we want
Words set but limitations
When words cease
The truth emerge
The Self is simple.
All the fuss about endings
The finals
The last shows
The decisions
The outcomes
Who marries who
Who wins
Who loses
But the winner wins in one loses the next
But it is the only thing I care about.
Although;
The Self is simple.
How do we progress you ask
Does humanity improve?
We are as primitive as ever
How we laugh when the person we adore treats us good
How we drool in envy when the the person we adore treats another good
How we depend on others to keep us happy
No? You don't?
The curse and swears you hurl when a driver overtakes you on the road
Stings you real bad
In fact;
The Self is simple
Only I make it a mess.

Elizabeth - The Virgin Queen

I imagine myself bringing a cigarette to life, inhaling a puff, spitting out dazzling smoke; all in a dark enclosure. The only light comes from the computer screen. My eyes reflecting each alphabet I type.

In reality, I don't smoke. I won't type in the dark because it is bad for the eyes.

Queen Elizabeth married England. This woman did something great for her nation. Queen Elizabeth (not Prince Charles' mother) reigned for more than 40 years as the Queen of England after the demise of her sister Mary I. England became the richest country in Europe and that period was known as the Golden Age. But if she was a man, she wouldn't have to give up so much. In a patriachy society, she was only a woman and so she was criticised that she ruled with her heart and not her head. To keep her throne and her head on her shoulders, she had to develop a heart of a man.

Perhaps it wasn't because she was a woman. It was because she had a conscience. It was because she followed her conscience that England prospered under her rule. She united the defragmented Catholics and Protestants who were constantly killing each other in the name of God. The Pope from Rome wanted her dead because unity means depletion of the power of the Catholic Church. Religion is poison in the hands of war mongering greedy leaders. Religion is lethal when politics wears it as a cloak.

There are many Queen Elizabeths out there. People, not man or woman but people who genuinely believe that religion shouldn't be abused. Jesus didn't establish a church, He didn't wage war. His teachings were for the good. He never meant for the Spanish Inquisition to shamelessly use religion to massacre those who didn't believe in the Catholic Church. But it was an exercise to accumulate power for the sovereign and the church.

The point is, religion is only a scapegoat for the deceit of man. In all that we participate in, you either have to be part of something, some association, some group, gather with some people who share some common interests. And if you start doing something different, you are ostracised, left out, demeaned.

This is reality. This is life.

I imagine myself smoking again.

Enjoying Laura Fygi

...nothing beats a deep set voice, creamy smooth music, dim lights, plain water and a great book. My idea of relaxation.

Yet it is so true that everyone has an ideal or a group of ideals. And unfortunately believe them to be the absolute truth. The comfort zone, place of sanctuary, the heavenly aura; whatever you call it. It is only a limitation.

It is difficult to find a mutual thinker. Maybe Howard Hughes would have been a great friend. His determination does not limit him but inspire him to think beyond time and space. Perhaps seeing the truth of things evolved his mind. It was why he became the way he was. But then we are all mad in our tiniest ways.

War only creates more war. Why do people fight and use force to control others?

In the end, my foes become nothing;
my friends become nothing;
i become nothing
all things become nothing.

But until then, what is it I must do?

Diva

I am crowded by much thoughts that don't seem to rest.
They are trying to put me to a test.
Maybe I do leck the zest
Insight and truth won't elude me nevertheless.

Many things happened lately. Some involved me directly and some vicariously through friends. But then when things do happen, I can surely put theory into practise. As well as I can be, I try to be patient. As well as I can be, I refrain from talking.

Certain feelings are meant to be kept in the heart. Untouched, unspoken and pure.
Because once spoken, many are armed with piercing words wanting to wound you.
Because once spoken, what's once pure becomes dusty.
But there is a change in all that I must preserve.
Beneath the starry light
I shall see your face again.

Walking Away

How fast are we to judge and decide who we like and dislike based on the most trivial of facts to the most extreme of circumstances. But facts and circumstances do change because this whole environment changes constantly.

The problem arises when the people refuses to change. They are stuck within a particular time frame of happiness, unhappiness, frustration or some form of emotional blockages. They hang on to such blockages as if they are real and as if these are life's only experience. But they are not. Life is wider, greater and freer than emotional cartridges.

There are times when I feel like walking away from it all.

Little Sister

Amidst all the miunderstandings and human conflicts that arise out of self-preservation, I have been blessed with a little sister. My #1 mui mui -Diana! Although I have never met her since she lives in the US, I surely know that she is one heck of a great singer! If she is my #1 mui mui, then I am her #1 fan! hahahaha

Well Di, glad to have you as my little sister! *hugs*

Love,
Wendy Jie Jie (#16)