Dear Diary

Dear diary,

Time flies. I sent Meimei back to her college this afternoon. Very soon, she would be finishing her course and be a real adult. It seems like just yesterday when she was still in her blue school uniform.

Before she left, she said “Mom, enjoy your date with Mr Shinny.” What a naughty girl! That nick name stuck with Shannon when the first time she saw him in his neat outfit and his well polished shoes. I guess Shannon has always dressed up neatly wherever he goes. Or rather he goes to places which require him to dress up. We had never gone to a mamak, come to think about it.

I’ve got to do something to that cactus. I haven’t watered it for a long time now. It is not dead yet but it’s not growing too. Maybe Meimei was right, if it’s not growing for past 6 years, it will not grow at all. Maybe I will just give it a few more months.

I will pick up Lydia from airport tomorrow and have a long coffee chat with her. She must have lots of interesting stories to share after 3 weeks trekking in the Himalayas.

Shannon has asked me to join him for dinner at Tsukishima tomorrow. That’s very sweet of him to remember I like the okonomiyaki served in that nice and friendly restaurant. It will be good date. He is a sweet and fun guy.

Our new neighbour moved in and I waved and smile at them. They looked like nice people.

17 Oct 18, Saturday. Sunny.

Dear diary,

Came back early from dinner. The food didn’t taste as good as last time. Shannon told me he got promoted to Product Marketing Director, or is it Regional Sales Manager? I wasn’t paying attention.

The lighting was a bit dim and the waitress looked unhappy. Maybe she has problems at home?

Shannon said he is going to Spain (or is it Italy or Belgium?) for 2 weeks on business and asked if I want to come along. I said I will check my work schedule first.

Drove past old town and many of the shops are still there, including the McD and the old kopitiam. Wonder if the old man still sells his super tasty nasi lemak. Haven’t been there for so long, probably 6 years since the last visit.

Lydia came back in one piece and good spirit, except for a sprained ankle. She showed me many beautiful pictures of the snow capped mountains and crystal clear streams in the Himalayas. They are just splendid.

She bumped into him at a local hospital where she was being treated for her ankle. She said he had a broken arm, caused by a fallen cross beam from the construction site of a mini hydro generator at a remote village in the south east region. She said he dressed like a labourer, looked tired and bit haggard, probable due to long distance he had to travel to get to the hospital.

I gave the cactus a good shower and cleared the weeds that were growing around it.

18 Oct 18 - Sunday. Gloomy.

Dear Diary,

Another normal, tiring day at work.

I came home and found a small piece had broken off from the cactus. It must have been the pigeons.

If cactus is a man, he must be a very strong person both physically and mentally, to be able to withstand all these harsh assaults from the surrounding.

I stopped at the old kopitiam for breakfast. The old man had retired since 3 years ago and now his son has taken over the nasi lemak stall. The taste is not the same anymore. The sambal was too sweet and the onion tasted raw. Even the ikan bilis didn’t taste the same.

Our usual table under the fan has been replaced by a new IKEA plastic table. Things are never the same anymore. I guess, they never stay permanent. “Nothing is permanent”, he liked to say.

Had a missed call from Shannon. Will return his call tomorrow from office.

19 Oct 18 - Monday. Rainy.

Dear Diary,

A very busy day at the office. The regional big boss is due to visit and every department is preparing power point for the big meeting.

I skipped lunch and stayed in the office. It was too hectic to go out during lunch hour.

I checked on the internet during lunch break and found that the political unrest is escalating in Nepal now. The Maoist separatists are mounting attacks on the government in the remote regions.  I wonder how safe it is now in Nepal.

Shannon called and asked my decision on the Europe trip. I said I can’t go because I can’t take leave then. He sounded disappointed but still asked me to go dinner on Saturday. I said I will call him again.

I have asked Lydia out for coffee and girls talk tomorrow night. We have lots to catch up.

Nothing has changed with the cactus. It still stands there as it always does. Maybe it is in hibernation or in deep meditation.

20 Oct 18 – Tuesday. Cloudy.

Dear Diary,

Meimei came back for the weekend. I made her favourite pumpkin soup and we had great quality time together. She has grown so much and is now a mature adult. At the same time, it also means I m getting older. Sigh.

She asked me how’s going with Mr. Shinny and why didn’t I go to Europe with him. It seems she is encouraging me to have another go at relationship. Thanks girl.

There had been a few attacks on government’s infrastructure in Nepal last few days. The news says some foreign volunteer workers were injured in the attacks. Some NGO are pulling out and repatriating their volunteer staff. Hope all is well with him.

Shannon is flying to London tomorrow night. We had a quick meet up for lunch today at the Ship. The nachos and wings were pretty good. For some reasons, I suddenly longed for a plate of nasi lemak with hot sambal and a cup of black Hainan kopi.

I watered the cactus and put a netting around it to keep away the pigeons.

24 Oct 18 – Saturday. Sunny

Dear Diary,

We went shopping and Meimei bought a bag full of cosmetic and accessories. I frowned and she said she got it from me. We laughed. My younger days of shopping frenzies came back to me. On dear.

I took her to the old kopitiam and to my surprise the old guy came to the stall today. I had a chat with him and asked him about his best-in-town sambal. He laughed and said that will be passed down to his son. I tried the nasi lemak and indeed it tasted much better than the other day.

There is another pleasant surprise. A tiny green limb grows on the cactus. It is finally out of hibernation and coming back to life.

He sent me an email and said he will be back in country to treat his arm. The situation is not safe for them to stay in Nepal and he needs a long rest. Do I want to see him again after all these years? I don’t know.

25 Oct 18 – Sunday. Sunny

Dear Diary,

I went to the Merci-corp web site to check on their activities in Nepal and saw him in one of the pictures. They were building some sort of power system. He was in faded jeans and had a dark green scarf around his neck. He still has it after so many years.

The young man has learnt well from his father. His nasi lemak is almost as good as his dad’s. There’s something good in life, at least.

Meimei will be going to Singapore for a seminar organised by the college. It must be fun to do all these when you are young. Good luck, girl.

The cactus is turning from brown to greenish now. It is really growing now. Everything deserves a 2^nd chance, I guess. When time comes, the right thing will happen.

29 Oct 18 – Thursday. Sunny

Atypical love story

Seldom write love story because I don't believe in fairy tales and happily ever after. This one had been in my head for a while and its definately ain't Mills and Boon. 

_________________________________

Sam tried to stay close behind Ming muscular body, finding their ways through the usual Friday crowd inside the Jam Club. Ming was a fitness instructor and knew many friends who worked as bouncers at the clubs downtown. Sam felt safer to have him. 

Ming stopped and pointed his finger. Across the crowded dance floor, Melody and her friends clustered around the couch in a dimly lighted corner. She was seen sitting on the floor with her head resting on the seat, eyes closed and didn’t bother how revealing was her low cut dress in that posture. A group of young men were passing drinks and cigarette among them. 

“That’s her. What do you want to do?” Ming asked.

Without answering, Sam charged across the dance floor towards the group. Ming let out a sigh and followed. This was not the first time he had to accompany his good friend to locate Melody in one of these clubs. She obviously had big drinking and drug abuse problems.

Sam grabbed Melody’s arm and said, “Melody, you come with me and go home now.”

Melody didn’t bother to move her feeble body, apparently too stoned to bother with what and who was around her.

The men closed in on Sam.

“Who the fuck are you? Buzz off. We found her first.”

They let up when Ming and his bouncer friend stepped in. Ming lifted Melody onto her feet and dragged her out from the club. She was swearing, yelling and kicking all the way. He had gotten used to the drama.

One time, he had to engage in a fist fight to get Melody away from a drunken fellow who thought he got lucky to find a lone stoned young girl in a bar.

Back at Sam’s place, the drama continued with all the puking, swearing and verbal abuses.

“Leave me alone. I do what I like. Don’t you dare to tell me what’s right what’s normal. The whole fucking world is BITCH! Nothing is normal”

“Just calm down, dear. Go to sleep and everything will be ok tomorrow.” Sam was in the usual soft and gentle mood.

After a while, Melody was too drained by the alcohol and drugs and just dropped on her bed and drifted off. The drama was over.

“I know I had said it many times. Ming. Thanks and very sorry to drag you into this again”. Sam said to Ming but didn’t have the courage to look at him. 

“Its ok. We have come a long way, you and me. But what are you going to do with her? this can’t go on forever, you know. She has huge problem and you can’t help her.”

“I know. I just can’t leave her. I just can’t. She is the only one I have.” Sam was staring at the floor.

“Sam. She is not for you. She doesn’t deserve you.”

Sam didn’t answer. After a deafening silence, in slow and deliberate voice, Ming said to his close friend, “I know its hard to change. But she is ruining your life. Have you considered, maybe, just leave and stay away for a short while? You know, to let things settle down and give yourself some space and time to think.”

With teary eyes, Sam looked up and said, “I know you want me to be happy and have a more normal life. You are always my best friend. I will really think about what you said. Its late and you have to work tomorrow.”

“OK. You take care, Sam.”

In the darkness, Sam curled up in the couch in a foetal posture. The splendid night sky of KL outside the apartment window was a big contrast.

“We had many good and happy times together. What went wrong?”

“Mother. I wish so much I could listen to you to get married and live a simple life. I am sorry to disappoint you. She is not as bad as others see her as.”

“Oh, mother, how I wish I could still talk to you and hug you. How I wish I was at your side before you left.”

Sam got up and turned on the radio and took out a photo album from a drawer. She looked at the photos of her and her mother, and broke down in tears.

Beyonce’s melodious voice was on the radio.

“If I were a boy, even just for a day …”

Prayer

This is pretty coarse and unrefined. didn't want to publish it at first. but then, what the hell.

************************************************************************

 

Its June and the summer afternoon in Lhasa was bright and sunny. Thousands of tourists were crowding the already crowded old city area around the famous Monastery Jokhang. The gilt roof of the magnificent temple glittered under the clear blue sky. Hundreds of small stalls lined the Barkhor bazaar bustling with commercial activities. Local and foreign tourists looking for a bargain and souvenir hawkers wanting a sale created a buzzing but comforting background noise. The old city of Lhasa was very much alive after witnessing so many bloodsheds in the last 50 years.

Lobsang was oblivious to both the crowd and the noise. He held his palms together and repeated the mantra of Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva 3 times. Then, he kneeled down and performed a full stretch bow on the ground.  Slowly, he raised, counted a bead on his ring of praying beads, took 2 small steps forward and repeated the same ritual again. He had vowed to continue performing his prayer until he had looped around the old city, which would take days. With every bow, he felt his mind was being cleansed bit by bit, which was manifested in a very calm and peaceful feeling amid the noisy, hot and crowded background. His strong vow kept him going although his body was screaming for a break. “Focus on the mind and observe the pains.” He remembered what his teacher had taught him.

Jane Xia was in her new VW sedan, frowning at the crawling traffic. The AC of the car was at full blast and the cool air brushed through her dyed blonde hair. She looked out of the window behind her pair of Gucci sunglasses and cringed at the sight of those local Tibetan performing their slow prayers.

She just wished to go back to her cosy office and get on the internet to chat with her boyfriend in UK. Lured by the better pay offered to her, she had taken up the vacant manager post in Lhasa from a big traditional medicine supplier. Her shop in Lhasa specialised in supplying Cordyceps or commonly known as “caterpillar fungus”, a very dear traditional herb only found in the Tibetan plateau. She would source and purchase them from the Tibetan peasants at the remote highlands and resell them to the smaller shops in Lhasa and other cities in China. The profit margin could be as high as a few thousands percent.

From her car, she cringed at the sight of Lobsang in his ragged and soiled blue clothes.

“What a broken place. If not for our liberation, these people are still slaves serving their landlords. “

When she was on the computer and chatting with her boyfriend afterwards, she wrote “our leaders were right to say religion is the opium of society. These uneducated people still worship their expelled Dalai Lama and don’t know how to utilise their time to develop their economy. What a broken place!”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++=

 

In a small café in Barkhor Bazaar, Giana and her friend Paulo were enjoying their ice coffees. They had had some tiring days visiting the monasteries.

“I think there is a reason why a country is undeveloped. Look at them, indulged in so many useless rituals. I m sure they don’t know what they are doing besides following what had been told to them without understanding.”

Giana pointed to the few Tibetans performing the full stretch prayer not far from the café.

“A religion without substance and love.” Giana added.

“Do you remember the thousands of scripture we saw in the monasteries, but without one single book to tell them which one is the real truth?”

Paulo nodded while sipping his ice coffee.

Giana continued, “Worst of all, they still worship human idol, their Dalai Lama.”

“These people are probably doing their prayers because they have a lot of guilt inside them. They’re probably hoping the ritual will cleanse their karma.” Paulo broke his silence. A medical doctor from Portugal, he was trained to be observant and analytical.

“And” he said while pointing to a bowing old man in ragged blue clothes, “if he keeps doing this, very soon he will hurt his knee and elbow joints. So badly that he may not be able even to walk. Under this hot sun and strong UV, I don’t know how long they can hold.” Paulo shook his head empathically.

“Well, that’s not our problem if they want to be ignorant and refuse salvation.” Said Giana.

“I am so tired of all these nonsense about reincarnated monks. They’d obviously chosen those who they wanted to choose to become the high monks. The normal people don’t involve. It’s a plot to control the people.”

“I will leave in 2 days and fly directly from Beijing to Rome. I m so excited because I may have to chance to see the Pope in real person”

“Yeah. It is good to see the holy Papal.” Paulo said.

Lobsang carried on with his prayer although it’s late at night and the streets in the old city were almost empty except for a few fellow prayers. His mind was as clear as the cloudless summer night sky. He was hungry, thirsty and tired but they seemed remotely distant from him. He smiled and continued his prayer of Avalokitesvara Mantra.

Thousands of miles away in Beijing, the capital city of PRC, thousands of local tourists were at the famous Tian-an-men square. Across the road, overlooking the square was a huge colour portrait of the late Chairman Mao.

A teacher was explaining the history of the square to her group of young students.

“That’s our great leader Chairman Mao. All of you bow and pay your respect” she pointed to the portrait and told her students.

Thousands of miles away in Vatican City, centre of Rome, thousands of believers of the faith gathered around Saint Peter’s square. They were waiting patiently and orderly for the Pope to appear from his study. Usually the pope would appear, wave and to be applauded by the waiting crowd.

Great Compassion

The lecture theatre was almost fully packed 1 hour before the scheduled start time of the seminar. Most of them were young people from all corners of the country. Vincent Janaka Tan was a famous speaker among the young Buddhists. As oppose to the other dhamma speakers who appeared too rhetoric, too serious to the younger crowd, Vincent Janaka put across his presentations through jokes, music and punch lines, which were widely accepted and liked by them. More importantly, his speeches were pragmatic and a break from the traditions, which the youngsters liked.

He adopted the name Janaka after his first pilgrimage trip to India and Nepal and visited the 4 most holy sites of Buddhist belief. Janaka was the family name of an ancient race of kings in Indian legend.

“It symbolises conqueror of own self and be the king to rule over our greed, anger and ignorance, instead of being a slave of them”. He explained when asked.

The seminar started on time when the modestly dressed Vincent Janaka arrived just 5 minutes before the scheduled time. After the usual chanting of prayer, he started his seminar with a short story.

“In an old temple, lived an old master, his disciples and a noisy donkey. Whenever they practised meditation, the old master would ask his disciples to tie a muffler over the donkey lest it disturb their concentration. After the master died, his disciples continued this practice of muffling the donkey. Years later, the donkey died. They bought a new one so that they have a donkey to muffle during every meditation session. They even recorded this as an important ritual that must be followed, as taught and practised by the wise old master.”

The crowd laughed and gave him a round of applause. 

“That’s what I want to present to you today. Break the rituals and traditions that inhibit our minds. Clear it, clean it through real Dhamma practices and throw out the donkey muffler.”

“All of you know about the panca-sila or 5 precepts. Simple stuff right? No Killing, No Stealing, No Sexual Misconduct, No Lying and No Intoxicant Abuse.”

“But, no, this is not all, we have to do more. We not only stop killing, we save lives, we don’t do things that endanger lives, we respect human rights, we respect animals right to live. Have COMPASSION for every being.”

“We not only don’t steal and rob; we live a simple and modest life to quest our internal desires.”

Another round of applause and the seminar went on with great success. The organiser was happy to have spent the money and time to invite Vincent Janaka to be the speaker. He was almost a star. Although the cost of inviting him was not cheap but it all worth-it with the gains the organiser would receive in return.

“So, forget what the old school had taught you in rituals and traditions. Go back to the fundamental. Be a fundamentalist as far as practising Buddhism is concerned. The final four messages I want to deliver to you all. Practise loving kindness, show compassion to all living beings, let go of your troubles and be happy for yourself and everyone around you. Thank you.”

After all the audience had left, Vincent Janaka went to meet his wife at Hilton Hotel which the organiser had booked for him. 

“This will be a tiring trip. There are a few more places I have to speak at and we won’t be home until next Monday.” Vincent told his wife, Cherry, about his itinerary during dinner.

Cherry sighed and took a big sip of the martini.

“I guess I have to shop around while waiting for you.” She said.

4 days later, they arrived back home late at night and were greeted by the security guard posted at the front entrance of the gated community compound. He smiled warmly to the guard from his car when he opened the gate for him. All the guards like him and Cherry for they were warm, friendly and generous on tips.

Cherry unlocked the anti break-in deadbolt lock on their door while Vincent Janaka was parking the car in the drive way. All the doors and windows of their house were refitted with sophisticated anti break-in locks. The locks were much secured that even if someone managed to get into the house, he can’t unlock from inside and get out easily. They spent most of the time away from home and it was a necessary investment.

“I will go and wake that lazy girl to make supper and do the laundry. She better didn’t make a mess while she was alone in the house for four days, or she will know what real hunger feels like.” Cherry said before she went to the maid’s room.

Ina sat on the mattress laid on the floor and waited for her mistress. She knew there would be more work for her after they were back. She preferred them away and she got to stay alone in the house, even though she couldn’t get out or make any telephone calls. 

 

Most of all, she wished she didn’t leave her village in Indonesia and came to Malaysia to work as a maid.

A Dream

A very short story. No moral lesson intended.

___________________________________________

Graeme grabbed his handphone on the bedside and randomly pressed a button. The screen lighted up. It was 3:21 am. The exact same time he had been waking up from the very same dream every night since few weeks ago.

“This is insane.” He thought. He remembered the stories of those B-class horror movies he had seen in the past. Recurring dream was one of the favourite plots those directors liked. Never had he thought it would happen to him in real life. “Is there a message for me? Or m I just going nuts?”

Every night, an old lady dressed in dark brown and a green hat would appear in his dream and repeated 3 simple words over and over again to him. 

“DO RI MI.” 

Although he didn’t usually remember his dreams, this one appeared very clear to him, down to the details. If the other dreams were low resolution VHS, this one was of HD Blueray DVD quality. The old lady was rather plumb and had an friendly elderly smile on her wrinkled face, far from a scrawny toothless witch with crooked nose in black type that Graeme would associate with nightmares. He could remember the details down to the dirt she had on her bare feet, the chirps of bird he heard and the nice smell of fresh fruits when she appeared. There was no hostility besides the 3 words that she kept repeating. “DO RI MI”.

“Who is she and what does she want from me?” Graeme wondered.

He told his friends about this recurring dream in the evening at a pub and everyone had their share of opinion and theory.

“She might be warning you of an imminent danger or risk in your life. Just be careful when you go back to work.” Warned Shannon, who had great interest in shamanism and the mystical world.

Graeme took a mental note on that comment. He was a consultant civil engineer whose work was building highways and bridges which required him to do a lot of travelling around the world.  Although it was not a high risk job, he had been injured by machineries and fallen objects in the past.

“She could be fragment of past memories from your past life.” Said Andrew, who was a believer in Tibetan Tantric Buddhism.

After a few rounds of beers, their conversion drifted to some other topics and the dream was not brought up again.

Before they left the pub, Mable said casually to Graeme. “Maybe she was asking for your help, Graeme.” She had been quiet on the subject when the rest were talking about it. Mable was a quiet person and seldom spoke out in the group. She socialised but didn’t usually give her share of opinions.

Graeme looked at her sparkling green eyes, gave a nod but said nothing. The beers had made him a bit light headed and he needed a good sleep, after so many early morning waking ups from that dream.

The old lady in her usual outfit walked slowly towards Graeme. He could see an apparent limping on her this time. Her smile was replaced by a worried face, but she still carried with her an unmistakeable aura of friendliness and peace.

“Stop. Do Ri Mi.” She repeated the words over and over again to Graeme.

“What do you want from me, Madam?” Graeme found that he could talk to her.

“Stop. Do Ri Mi.” She said in a very soft and coarse voice and then turned and limped away from Graeme.

Graeme ran after her and asked, “Where do you come from, Madam?”

She turned and said, “Four two one”.

Graeme was jerked awake by the message alert tone of his handphone. He checked and cursed. It was a promotional SMS sent by a big shopping mall back home in Adelaide, Australia.

He checked the time. It was 4:30 am. He felt puzzled by the break of routine. The old lady had come to him at different hours and she spoke more this time. Her change and the apparent limping had made Graeme felt uneasy. He could sense something was unusual and he thought of Shannon’s warning.

“What is Do Ri Mi? And where is four two one?”

Graeme’s mind was occupied by this and he could focus on his work at the construction site. He was supervising the construction of a bridge across a river at a small city in Papua New Guiney. It was a historical city, built by the English long time ago. The fort was now all but a ruin of some old pillars and scattered bricks.

The workers were digging up rocks with big earth moving machines to build the foundation for the bridge. The trees around the planned site were also being cleared to make way for the big machines and cranes.

At the moment, the workers were trying to fell a huge tree which was rooted deeply and firmly in the ground. Even 2 big excavators couldn’t push it down. So a few days ago, Graeme had ordered them to start digging at the root to loosen the grip.

The afternoon sun was scorching on Graeme and he found shelter under a tree not too far from the digging excavators. They had dug a big hole around the huge tree and exposed its massive solid root system that had probably taken hundreds of years to grow to the present size. The machines went in and started to push on the massive tree trunk. It was starting to give way.

Graeme heard a crack above him and looked up just in time to see a fallen limb from the tree he was standing under, heading straight toward him. Before he could react, he felt a knock on his head and fell on the ground.

He saw the old lady walking away from him and he ran after her.

“Wait up, please.” He yelled but she didn’t turn and got further and further from him.

“Mr. Graeme, are you OK?”

He heard voices around him and opened his eyes slowly. In his blurred vision, he saw the old lady right in front of him in her dark brown dress and green hat.

He jumped to his feet and stared at the huge tree. She WAS the old lady in his dream!

“Do Ri Mi…. Don’t Rip Me! That’s what she had been trying to tell me. Oh my God! And that’s the reason why she was limping. We had hurt her roots.”

“But where is Four Two One? Why did she say Four Two One?” Graeme was mumbling softly to himself.

The massive tree in front of him finally fell after a final push from the powerful modern machines, slowly at first then gathering momentum and hit the ground with a loud “Thump”.

Regretfully, Graeme walked over to the fallen tree and put his palms on the massive trunk.

“I m sorry, Madam. I didn’t get your message in time to save you.”

Buried among the exposed roots was a stone block with 4 words carved on it.

“FORT TOWONG. 1720”

"thank you."

 By Author Anon.

I was hungry, And you formed a humanities club and discussed my hunger. Thank You.
I was imprisoned, And you crept off quietly to the chapel in your cellar and prayed for my release. Thank You.
I was naked, And in your mind you debated the morality of my appearance. Thank You.
I was sick, And you knelt and thanked God for your health. Thank You.
I was homeless, And you preached to me of the spiritual shelter of the love of God. Thank You.
I was lonely, And you left me alone to pray. Thank You.
You seem so holy, So close to God.
BUT I'm still very hungry, And lonely, And cold.