Friday, October 16, 2009

Raya

Ah raya. It's that time of the year again. The very moment of pure bliss. The moment of more jubilation. Then moments of nothingness. And so comes the moment of discontent, nuisance and hence pure hatred.

Hari Raya. It's not that Raya isn't good. Many (Malays) tend to forget however that it still, and always be 'Hari' Raya. Hari. A day. Not a week. Not a month. A day. Isn't that what we were thought? Moderation? Everything in life requires moderation. But no matter how many times we hear that schoenes Lebensprinzip, we ignore it.

The festivities celebrated by Malays ( and I say Malays because it is our 'adat' ) are always closely related to a complete disregard of time. And that disregard of time is seen in the careless way in which it is spent. Doing nothing, sipping coffee, or just 'talking' is almost a Malay national habit.

An invitation to a kenduri in a kampong is invariably for an indefinite time. One may arrive at any time, eat at any time and go off at any time. No one ever arrives on time for a meeting but once started there is no limit to the time it can last. A meeting would therefore start late and end even later, no matter how much the time of the meeting is adjusted to suit everyone.

When there is no awareness of time, there can be no planning and work is never reliable. A community which is not conscious of time must be regarded as a backward society - the more technologically advanced the man, the more he is bound to time. Whats more is that it will remain a backward society. There is no doubt that the Malay failure to value time is one of the most important handicaps of their progress.

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Change

The eye of youth is very observant. Youth has its moments of keen intuition, even normal youth - but the intuition of those who stand midway between the sexes, is so ruthless, so poignant, so accurate, so deadly, as to be in the nature of an added scourge; and by such an intuition did he discover that all was not well with his parents.

Their outward existence seemed calm and unruffled. But their children saw their hearts with the eyes of the spirit; flesh of their flesh, he had sprung from their hearts, and he knew that those hearts were heavy.

In the words that they left unspoken, he could hear it - it would be there, filling the small gaps of silence.

And yet he was utterly helpless, and he knew it. All that he did seemed inadequate and childish.
They had been completely unconscious with each other for over 24 years. Then had come the morning at home, when those two had suddenly seen each other, and had known from that moment the meaning of life, of love, just because they have seen each other. His father spoke very seldom of such things, but this much he has told him, it had all grown quite clear -

What had it felt like when you realized each other? What did it feel like to see things quite clearly, to know the innermost reason for things?