Farid

Of the many sort of different backgrounds and peoples i have met. i remember Farid during times of sadness and frustrations. he's this cheerful, 50+ year old egyptian chap. always smiling and seemingly carefree. one day, he introduced me to the game of sudoku. if there was a way to gauge his proficiency in the game, i'd say he probably has a chess equivalent ELO rating of around 1800. anyway, one fine lunch we drove to a nearby beach. he explained why he has such love for the game. "it keeps the braincells moving and exercising", he said. "at the same time, it has been discovered that people playing sudoku are prevented from developing alzheimer's disease", Farid added.

"But!" he continued..."it doesnt mean i am playing not to develop alzheimer's". "in fact i prefer to have alzheimer's than being normal". this puzzled me, i asked farid what he meant. "In order to be happy". i quickly realized what he meant. He carried on: "people who dont remember anything, will not have any reason to be sad". "they are always happy"...."we humans tend to keep the negative events in our lives deep inside and keep the hurts in our hearts for a long time...the happy events, we only celebrate for a short while, enjoy them for a little bit and then we forget them completely...i pondered over this refreshing truth.

such simple thoughts but profoundly true.

The memory is oftentimes the reason and the source of all sadness and frustrations. What if for a moment, we imagine that we have alzheimer's? would we still remember the reasons for our unforgiveness and blame? isnt this very often the very reason preventing us from being free and happy?

I wonder whether God and the residents up there has alzheimer's too? the answer i think is yes--in the sense that heaven exists in eternity without the limitations of time. simply there are no pasts to remember, nor future to be anxious about. it's just an eternal 'now'. An eternal Happiness.

there are a few things i just remembered and wish to say here on the saints' deep insights about'taming/ blanking our memory' as one of the ways to achieve purity of heart, and eventually happiness...etc. but unfortunately, i've forgotten the details to most of them...

but i remember the last time i saw Farid in Jeddah. we parted with me sliding a glass of precious home-made brew wrapped inside a plastic into his bag. "be careful and make sure you finish it all up before you drive to the airport", i whispered to him.

he nodded understanding the seriousness and danger of the situation with a smiling reassurance...carefree and happy as always.

School of Mahmoud

Keywords : Care-free-ness, Anxiety, Happines, Abandonment, Humility

Mahmoud was there again. The shoe-shine and repair man by the sidewalk outside the supermarket I frequent. Mahmoud is a name I gave him since I do not know his name and have not had the chance to converse with him in Arabic. Mahmoud is fully bearded, wears a white traditional muslim hat and looks a little emaciated but always calm, unsmiling and unperturbed. I try to greet him silently whenever I'd pass by the supermarket.

I sat on the round planter box next to him and watched as he unwrapped the fabric were he keeps all his tools. One by one he took them out, some extra shoe strings, the glue, the needles, a few coloured threads and pieces of leather. As he sat there waiting for customers, I sat there watching him. He started cutting the square-shaped leather pieces into a more proper shoe shape. I just watched. 15 minutes gone and still no customer. He continued calmly cutting the leather pieces.

I finally discovered by serendipity a little dose of entertainment in this desert place. For the last 6 months, I got so used to vegetating in my room I felt myself slowly getting despondent and low in spirit. I needed a reboot. Last night I decided to take a stroll at the beach, which is a mere 500m away from where I stay. I took a slow walk. I haven't been there since the last time I first came to Jeddah and wondered whether it will look the same. I cut through several empty streets again. This city remains as eerie and surreal to me as before. It has this genuine feel of a ghost town. You wonder where all the 4million population of people has gone to. Occasionally my steps were intercepted by cats suddenly jumping out from the nearby rubbish cans as if on ambush. The wide streets lay useless. In some back lanes you see Somali women lying on the roadside. They are dressed in all black with heads covered. And you notice their eyes trail you as you pass them by. At one street junction, a fully bearded, unkempt man suddenly appeared out of nowhere directly in front of me. The streets were dark and totally empty. Not a single soul or moving car. He was 15 metres away and was quickly advancing toward me. His head was covered with the traditional white and red toup or muslim scarf. Staring directly at me with his wide and bloodshot eyes. I stared back and pretended I wasn't scared and continued my pace. I figured we were heading for collision in 5 seconds if I do not change course.

Numerous thoughts hit my mind. In those split seconds, I grappled to remember the various jet li moves I memorized before and surveyed him from head to foot. Looking for a weak spot. I adjusted my pants and moved my fingers to feel the metallic mechanical pencil I always carry at my pant's side pocket. It's a relief to know it's there tucked neatly, just in case…He didn't leave his eyes off me and I did the same. When he came at arm's length, he said something in Arabic. I didn't understand but his posture told me he's a man asking for help. I gave him the picnic bread I was carrying and he nodded and went off.

Appearance can be deceiving sometimes. Those who look 'ugly' or 'scary' sometimes are the gentlest and kindest souls. People who look like angels are the most dangerous.

I jumped across a low wall to reach the beach amidst the darkness. Nothing new. I washed my hands and face to feel Red Sea breeze. I sat there for about an hour hoping to get some spiritual refreshment. Nothing. I walked back to the city.

Back to the shoe-shine man. Watching Mahmoud is probably the closest I will get here to a renewal and a quieting of the spirit.

Somehow in those slow 15 minutes, I've forgotten all the things that were beginning to clutter up my spirit.

The ear-deafening bombardment of news about the beleaguered banks in Wall Street. Worry over it's potentially devastating repercussions to the world's economy. To Singapore and the Middle East and then later on how it will trickle down to ordinary people like me walking in Main Street. Oh, I worry 15 months ahead. In the space of 15 minutes, Mahmoud taught me how he has mastered the art of abandonment.

Just silently watching him is a refreshing respite from the business of busy-ness and I suppose is a slow but steady antidote to this malady of anxiety. I wasn't the only one watching Mahmoud. There were a few of us. Probably 4 or 5 people sitted there around him. 2 old bearded fellow 'watcher' were probably waiting for a rendezvous with friends.

Other people go to yoga classes or turn on their new age meditation stereos to calm their spirits. I discovered that for me none of these ever works. Lying in your bed with soft music playing -- sounds of natural streams or water or birds chirping is soothing. But they don't provide the true calmness of spirit that one shares when one sits beside someone who lived his life without distractions. I realized I have just enrolled into the school of Mahmoud.

"Doesnt Mahmoud feel anxiety about the absence of shoes to shine?" I talked to myself and imagined if no dirty shoes comes for the night, he might have to stay hungry the next day.

My intuition told me he lives his life 15 minute at a time without agonizing over what the next 15 minutes has to offer. Simple and carefree and trustful abandonment. On the 18^th minute, a bangladeshi came to ask for a new shoelace. It was as if he has been sent to come to Mahmoud. Mahmoud took out one from his strings and gave it to the bangladeshi, not even looking at him for an instant. 4 seconds later, the Bangladeshi took out 1 riyal and pass it to Mahmoud.

"Do not worry over what to eat, what to wear or put upon your feet. Look at the birds in the sky. They neither toil nor work. Yet your heavenly father feeds them".

I believe that the spirit of Abandonment is very easy and yet extremely hard to achieve. Yet, learning this 'art' and mastering it seems to spell the difference between genuinely happy souls and outwardly happy souls. Watching Mahmoud has taught me the mathematical formula that one's level of abandonment is proportional to one's level of humility. Humble people acknowledges that they have no control over their destinies. Look at a child. The child knows its own helplessness and so he allows himself to be helped in everything and fully abandons all his cares to his parents. And aren't all children happy? And by the way, if my memory hasn't failed me yet, didn't we lose our care-free-ness when we grew up?

Yes, we all did, but Mahmoud probably lost his and found it back soon. Can i have mine back too please?

Emdad

Keywords : simplicity, peace, wisdom, happiness, detachment

Some things and concepts we take for granted are esoteric to some people—and vice versa.

The other day, my conversation with Emdadul, our 24-year old muslim waiter from Bangladesh went: “Wuhhen arr yu back to Singafore?”, he asked. “2 months from now and possibly Christmas”, I replied. “Wuhat is Krismas?” I was surprised Emdadul has not even heard of ‘Christmas’. I tried explaining: ”Most of the world celebrate Christmas during end of December but in the Philippines , we start celebrating beginning September-October…” He started interviewing me. : "Yu like China?" "Yes". "China is a gud country". "You think so?" "Yes." "Why?" "Many many nice place and the girls are beautiful". "Oh Yes, i agree with you 100% especially on the last part"...“Wuhen u will get marrid? Not yang anymorr yor age”. “I don’t know”, I replied. “You have any girl to introduce to me? I’m very very desperate now you know”. He didn’t laugh but remained smiling and said one of the most profound words I’ve ever heard:

“Ourr life is not for ourselfh but for ahders”. “Huh? What did you say again?”

“Ourr life is not for ourselfh but for ahders”, he repeated.

Most of us understand the above only because it is said in english, not because we have grasped its true meaning in our hearts and certainly not because we are living our lives according to it. Those words seem to be another proof that wisdom is revealed to the ‘simple and lowly’. Many of us who belong to the educated echelons of society often have to struggle to act or think in the carefree and simple manner Emdad knows. Our hearts are often so cluttered we have forgotten how to for example, live a life of trust--, trust that by the end of the day everything will be well and alright. We worry and fuss over so many unimportant matters, oftentimes ridiculous things. We have forgotten how to be simple and as a result, we have forgotten how to be truly happy. Instead we choose to be enslaved by the baggages we carry- our pride and vanities, our possessions & our pleasures. So that anyone or anything that disturbs these things in us instantly annoys and takes away our peace.

There are a thousand things that disturb our peace.

We often like to compare ourselves with others. If one seems better off than us, we sometimes despair and our peace is disturbed. We like to seek pleasure. If we are unable to enjoy these, we get frustrated…and so on…

The world is fair. It may be a little hard for Emdad to understand the meaning of ‘Christmas’ but he certainly knows what his life is for. We may understand a lot of things- even about quantum mechanics or metaphysics and such but we often fail to be happy and understand life’s meaning- something so natural for Emdad. He may one day grow old and die not even having understood the meaning of ‘Internet’. Big deal. Most of us will grow old and die not even having the slightest hint as to the reason for our existence. If this is not a deal bigger than all the contracts in the world, i dont know what is. We live like zombies constantly running after something to feed our vanities and our pride. We seem to have distorted priorities of what is important and what is not.

One of them is that many of us will tend to waste time by putting criticisms and negative labels on things, institutions and ideas we are unable to fathom fully and appreciate – like Emdad’s simple words.

Wedding

Keywords: Rules, Laws, Freedom, Marriage, Happiness, Paradox

Last night i attended the most bizarre wedding party in my life. I was already on my way to bed at around 10:40pm when my phone rang with Hasan on the other end. He asked if I’m going to attend Nabil’s brother’s wedding party. I asked if I was invited, he said yes, of course, all of us are invited. ‘Sure, lets go! give me 10 minutes and I’ll wait for you at the lobby”. I asked if we needed to bring ‘angpao’. “no need, just bring yourself”.

Hasan drove like a mad man. Cursing and swearring along the way. Everyone in Jeddah is a road maniac- no exceptions. Roads here are mostly fat highways, no traffic police and no rules. Not far and difficult to witness the next accident and mangled cars on the road.

After much detour and circling around due to our unfamiliarity with the road networks, we finally arrived. We were greeted at the gate by men wearing what I guess would be their indigenous Bedouin costume. Turban + colourful silky clothing. The entire pavement outdoor was covered with carpets and you see some men seated comfortably on them drinking and smoking. The scene reminded me of Alladin and his magic carpet. The gate greeters who were carrying large orange clay jars poured some liquid onto a flattish orange clay bowl and offered a bowl to us one by one. I took a sip and finished it. It tasted ok. I would have also finished it even if it tasted like the coffee the other day. Adel told me these are flower petals grinded and mixed with water. Similar to our bandung in singapore -which uses rose petal. At the door, the groom, together with the father and other relatives greeted us. Some like me, by a handshake, others by their usual cheek to cheek kiss, left cheek first, and then right cheek coupled with a gentle hug.

Inside it was like a giant ballroom hall with nothing except soft chairs and lounges lined up in rows. You see men, mostly in white turbans seated comfortably and chit chatting. We were in the men’s section. Behind the walls were the women. I asked Adel if we will see the bride or any woman at all later. “Never’. was his answer. Even the groom will not see his wife during the party. In fact, before agreeing to marry, he visits the woman’s parents and for the first time he has the opportunity to see his bride-to-be for around 15 minutes, that’s it. All marriages here are arranged. Just like my parents’ back in old China.

It sounds unimaginable for us to be marrying someone you hardly know or even seen. But it seems to me that if you compare this to our culture of whirlwind courtship and romance before marriage, we are not doing any better in terms of fidelity and faithfulness. Ironically, the culture of arranged marriages usually are those that lasts longer and end up in more stable marriages. This seem to prove that we all can love someone and anyone more and ourselves less if we decide we want to.

Popular wisdom will argue that we will have more freedom when there are no rules or law or culture to binds us. The wisdom of the Church says that it is precisely the laws, the rules and the cultures that ensures our freedom. If there are no traffic rules, yes, we are free to drive anyway we want without a care – just like the road maniacs here. No problem. However if our carelessness eats into and interferes into the freedom and rights of another to be safe. Then my seeming freedom becomes only an illusion because this same man whose rights to be safe I took away by my careless driving, also can take away my rights the same way I took his. Traffic rules are there to set us free- not chain us. ...

Let's talk more about freedom…The U.S. is said to be the freest country on the planet. Yes? No! In fact, the U.S. is less free in many areas of life than say, a ‘dictatorial-style-government-ruled’ country like Singapore . I can ask my imaginary pony-tailed hokkien-speaking girlfriend to take a stroll with me along Orchard Road at 3am in the morning and both of us will have nothng in our minds except each other. Can I do the same in say, Beverly Hills ? I’ll probably be constantly watching our backs. The possibility of us being robbed or mugged and my cute girlfriend taken away from me in no time will be very real. It’s just not possible to walk the streets at 3am! Although theoretically, I am free to walk anytime I want in both countries. Somebody’s claim of absolute freedom(to do whatever he wants with me and my cute girlfriend) and his lack of respect for the rules and the laws effectively takes away my freedom to walk the streets at any hour I wish...As such, respect for the rules and the law in Singapore gives me and everyone else living there true physical freedom.

I guess in marriage, there are also rules and laws to follow which gives both the husband and the wife true emotional freedom. It is very common for the spouses to claim that their freedom has been lost after marriage. The irony here, I guess, is that most do not realize that those who keep faithful to their marriage are those who have found genuine freedom while those that have strayed found their freedom and other people’s freedom taken away. In marriage and family life one sacred rule we were taught is:

In everything the husband decides to do, he should put his wife first, his children second and himself the last priority. And likewise for the wife, she puts her husband at the top, the children second and herself, always last.

Easy to say but very very difficult to do especially if you have tried doing it and your spouse doesn’t seem to appreciate your efforts one single bit. We all know it. But nothing easy is as rewarding as hard feats. Life is full of paradoxes. It is in giving ourselves fully and unreservedly and in dying to oneself that we attain and receive happiness, more than in taking. It is in loving that we receive more love. Giving respect that we gain other’s respect.

On a much higher and profound level… Banson entering the life in a Benedictine monastery effectively binds him to so many rules and laws unimaginable to most people. These rules, as seen by people outside are like chains on him, keeps him in prison. Seemingly, but on the spiritual realm, these rules and laws are actually what sets himself free and his offer of himself also sets many people around him free.

The Church is often criticized for its rigidness and its zillions of rules and commandments. If only we know better, the rules are there to make us happy and set us free – not the other way around as we often deceive ourselves to think. A paradox indeed.

By the end, the crowd gathered and started chanting and shouting Arabic poetries of encouragements to the groom. It seemed like M.C. Hammer inspired : (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iR5P21Q2yLU) It lasted for around 20 minutes. We were feeling tired and sleepy at around 2:30am. We said bye to Nabil and headed back home. On the road, Hasan suddenly swerved the car to the left. We almost killed a roller-blading man who suddenly appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the road. ‘Fuckhing idioth, what’s this crazy man doing here man? &%@#*.....” Hasan bellowed. I laughed and said: “cool down man…”.