My prayer ain’t word. It’s flash memories with you That you never have.
Singapore – Jan. 7, 2021 / 00:22
My prayer ain’t word. It’s flash memories with you That you never have.
Singapore – Jan. 7, 2021 / 00:22
Lil knoz ‘bout a gal Bikin’ crashin’ co’nut tree Laughed and helped at once
Remembering what you did in childhood is like watching cartoon movies, entertaining and energizing. How painfully the bad time was brought to you, when recalled, it brings a good smile back to your face.
When I was a girl, I loved riding bike. Often time racing with no one just with my beloved red one, enjoying the wind as if I was the queen of the road. Old people knew I was one of the careless.
One day I took off hands from the handlebars to clap hands singing along. Stupidly… No… Excitedly! Thought I was good enough as a bike rider. So, the wind took control of the bike in high speed as we were sliding from a sloping edge. We crashed into a coconut tree in front of neighbour’s house. It was my first bloody accident in life and not the last for sure 😊 I was lucky to live in a community who believed that children of the neighbourhood were the responsibility of all…
By then bike and I always met our rescuers. Now I won’t, so I ride bike wisely…. 😁 So far only one mudguard wheel was gone because of one silly accident —an irresponsible electric scooter didn’t want to slow down and forced me to get stuck to the side of the bike way pushed us to a tree. Hope no accident anymore 👍🏽
Nothing happens for no reason. Always be happy how much ever life sprinkles bitter to your plate. Hope all become good memories when we see it from later time.
May all beings be happy.
They prefer dying
To living with a big heart
Full of guilt and love?
Singapore – March 7, 2020 / 16:00
One of my good friends called me yesterday ranting why I should put unnecessary personal risk by allowing myself to continue business trip to one particular country during this COVID-19 outbreak, while others decided to drop their trips there.
“Rijk, you’re just a statistic. If you die, hundreds will fight for this hot seat. And life goes on without you because you are just a bit of trillions of forgotten memories.”
“I just feel I’m very healthy and I’m gonna be fine.”
“One last reminder: a rose will only be remembered when it dies.”
“You are scaring me? You mean I will die because of the virus?”
“Yes, in a way that you should not be a fool today just to avoid busy end of year. You never know what’s going on. That country will never disclose the real situation. Look! Historically their ancestors preferred ending their life in an irresponsible escapade entitled as honoured suicide to making peace with their own life. They can’t bear guilt or shame. Hey, Rijk remember they might not be able to bear love. So better think twice about your adoration to anything or anyone from that country. Hahahaha….!”
Bloody cold-hearted friend!!!
My head shakes. Should I cancel all my trips to that country?
My heart stands still. I will be fine and I’m going.
May all beings be happy…. 🙏🏼
Once upon a time
In Cordoba. She sat still
In the Mezquita.
Temasek – May 29, 2017 – 03:37am (Ramadhan 3, 1438H)
Picture borrowed from http://www.spain.info/en/que-quieres/arte/monumentos/cordoba/mezquita_de_cordoba.html
I took these pictures in Mount Bromo, East Java, Indonesia – my beloved country – in August 2010. What a lovely morning it was. Hundreds of people were waiting for the the sun to rise. They came from all corners of the earth: different colours of skin and hair (and teeth I guess). But it didn’t matter; they all shared the same expectations and expressions. When the sun showed its face timidly yet gracefully, those folks burst into happy laughter. Then they cheered, they clapped hands, they prayed, they cried, they smiled, they got amazed, they praised, they all emitted positive energy. Radiance is reflected through the eyes – either naked or behind glasses.
The next mornings in other places, we saw another sun rise but none of us laughed or cheered or clapped hands or prayed or cried or smiled or got amazed or praised…. Is it because we were not in Mount Bromo anymore? Probably. But most probably, we don’t always see the sun from the right angle. We see sun as just an object, a routine, just something but never a something….
People don’t really wait for the sun every morning for enjoyment. They wait for times to pass, just to kill it…. Second, minute, hour, day, week, month, year…. until the end is approaching and slowing down the time is possible no more.
Do I wait for time to pass? Or, to enjoy every hi from the morning sun? Hard to confess — because now I close my eyes when the sun is greeting.
Singapore – February 3, 2015 – 12:34am
My son Bob was a cat with soft heart. He would never quarrel except another cat attacked him. He would just groan and groan and groan but did not move from his spot. Only if the other tomcat jumped to him, would he fight to survive.
He would have a lot of reason to manipulate me. He would kiss my forehead, my nose, my lips or my cheeks to wake me up from my sleep to get whatever he wanted: food, drink or door to open.
Or, he would slip under my blanket to slew comfortably, only some time then he would climb out of the blanket and sleep above me. He would snore and spread his purring beautiful sound bringing peace into my small bedroom.
When you grew older, you did not want to cooperate since you had better life outside with your fellow cats. You always scratched the door to go out and it was always at 1:00am…. But for the sake of love, I opened the door for you, Bob…..
You loved perching on TV as if you were the God of (modern) Cat…. Lovely boy! You are always able to steal my heart, Bob.
When you were sick, you didn’t moan. You just take a silent position and keep the pain in you. I could not help except giving you the best food and medication which was probably not really the best for you…. I tried hard to keep you next to me, your soul next to mine.
Then I had to leave Indonesia to pursue my dream…. I cried happy but sad…. I was given a chance to make my self more experienced in life but then I had to leave you. Could I? Who would take care of you, Bob? I had to make a hard decision. I brought you to my mom’s house – she did not have a soft spot for pets indeed.
I knew you were so sad, leaving your home…. But you trusted me that you would find another home. And, yes my mom fell in love with you.
I visited you when I had time to sneak out of my hectic days – some leave or long weekend really helped us to meet up…. You looked happy, Bob. We had good time…. I fed you, stroked you, kissed you, hugged you, cuddled you, took picture of you, took care of your body which grew older….
My mom always said “Bob is a human, he understands how to love, he is more loving than some humans who destroy others’ happiness. Bob has given us a lot of joy…. Thanks God for everything.”
He likes to daydream in the terrace, looking at the other cats that were enjoying his food left-over. Too much to throw away, good to share with other cats…. 🙂
There was a time, we really got angry because of how people treat him. So cruel…. Beat him, splash him with water, hurt him in any way they like just because those neighbours hated cats. But Bob was too weak to counterstrike. He just went home with the wound then we would lovingly treated him until he got well. We loved you, Bob and we do and will always do.
Then came a message that you were sick, puking all food you ate. Eating then puking two hours later; that was a pattern. My could not do anything. Nobody would help to take her to the vet. She lives in a village where people are busy taking care of their own poverty – there was no thinking of getting medication for animal.
Plus my mom was so busy taking care of my sick sister. I am sorry, my son Bob. We had been so occupied by our humane life that we did not take a good care of you humanely. I am sorry, we are sorry.
My mom said Bob stayed at home since Friday (Feb’ 21) until today when she found him dead on the floor of one cool bedroom – it is where I slept when I was still staying with my family. It is the coolest room in the house.
I don’t want to remember how he died. I want to remember how he lived.
He lived as a son of mine, bringing me joy and a lot of blessings. He has been sacrificing his free will to be my family member. He was so willing to share his pureness with us. He shared his sincere soul to grow among us. He inspired us with love and sincerity. He let himself be part of the madness of human in our life. You gave us love, Bob…..
I released you with all my heart.
I heard a voice calling my name last night “Rike” and I just thought it was you telling me that it is time. You called me to give a sign…. I should not have been afraid, I should have remembered you who was trying to open the door “home”…..
Now you are home, Bob. It is the real home. Your body is buried but your soul is forever, here guarding me from any not-loving and insincerity. Thank you, son. Thank you for being flower of my soul. I know I am so heartsick, ibu* is so sad, too…. You know it, right? We know you know it. But you smile because it was your time. Time to go home, where we will also go to be together. Play, boy…. Play with the fragrance of flowers among the cats that can fly high to reach the Source without mourning.
I am sad for I was not with you when you were dying. But I know you know how much I love you. The pictures above are tokens of our relationship son – mother of cat. Hope you care to share your joy with the other souls who have gathered in the other side…. Or, even you care to share with the Source how you have made us accept life as it is.
Bob, you are always in our heart. Even the sweet memories have just started on Feb’ 25 when I heard the message that the bodily Bob died and the soul is wrapped in silk and put in a pretty basket embraced by a pair of sacred angels to the heaven.
Jakarta (Grand Hyatt), February 25, 2014 – 10:21pm
When I was a girl – about 10 years old,
I studied in a village school,
Students wore uniform – white shirt and crimson red skirt,
Black shoes and a pair of white socks.
Our socks were all the same, white – just white as long as half of our legs.
My sister, she was 16 y.o. at that time and studied in town…
And she would live in a boarding house, coming to visit our family every weekend,
There was a time when she always brought socks for me,
Special socks – because those socks from her were always much more beautiful than everybody else’s, either with pictures of strawberry, flowers, Heidi the Alp mountain girl, colorful, with laces, so many… one pair every week…
I will always remember that… My sister – her name is Andri – was such an angel to me and now she still is… She’s been with my mom, helping her with all the household chores and my mom’s small business, taking care of Bob my cat while I’m away, doing all things she can…
I love you my sister… You are such a beautiful perfect good saint in our family… Please spread your love as always… You are loved. Universe is blessing you…
Singapore, Aug 1 – 23:47
Picture is taken from http://thisthriftyhouse.blogspot.sg/p/favorite-posts.html