The Old Man Looking for His Center

I've had just enough time...   to look for my center

I saw the old man walking unsteadily on edges...

The old man

Walked on edges

Struggling to maintain

A balance, not

Too much right or

Too much left

Might fall off

Into the abyss

He is trying to find his center.

I asked “Why?”

Almost causing his fall

He brushed me off

Walking unsteadily forth

Then stunned me

Left me pondering

What his voice carried

With his departure

“How can I find my center,

Walking on level ground?”

_______

What's Your Center?

A Walk On A Rainy Autumn Day - Part I

I've had just enough time to...   have that walk on a rainy autumn day

The view from the farmhouse I stayed in that cold autumn morning

The wind was colder than I remembered. They always were, weren’t they? It is our memories that betrayed us. They convinced us that the wind was kinder than their nature, the rain gentle and we were comfortable in our walk. But I shivered with every gush. It bit my ears and stuck its icy finger into the side of my ribs and the umbrella I was holding trembled like the quivering leaf. I remembered. I hated the cold. It remembered me too and taunted me its icy embrace, laughing at my discomfort and challenged me to give up the walk and seek the warmth of shelter.

Some trees are bare, some still hold on to their leaves with grim determination

 I had strayed away from the others, falling behind. My frozen fingers gripped hard on the metal casing of my camera, shooting with one hand while the other shielded my body from the relentless rain. I know the pictures will not turn out well in this low light but I had only half an hour and I wanted to cover as much ground as I could before I had to return to the bakery. There were cakes waiting to be baked. And I did not have an extra day to wander this ground. I wanted to be back to this beautiful part but I know how ways lead on to ways and I may never find myself back here again. So I just took what Life has to offer and stepped over useless regrets in my walk through the wood on that rainy autumn morning in the land of the Danes.

The rain created little ripples on the surface of the calm water

The cold bothered me. But I welcome it as one would a familiar old enemy who brought your keenest senses to life. No, not an enemy but an adversary. A worthy one. It was as determined to push me back as I was as determined to push forward. Time was not in my favour. Some trees were completely bare by then but some still held on to their depleting leaves with admirable determination. I was told I was lucky to even see leaves this late in the year. But I was also told I was unlucky as just a week ago, this park was a glorious blaze of colours. But can one be lucky and unlucky at the same time? I guess so. I took a deep breath and was rewarded with the nostalgic smell of wet leaves, damp earth and the crispness of autumn air. It reminded me why I loved autumn so much even though I hated the cold.

A lone bird puffed up its feathers to withstand the cold

As I walked, and observed, and shot; I let my mind wandered. Giving it free rein to gallop wherever it pleased. As expected, it preferred the more melancholic pasture and my thoughts merged with the rain till it became as blur as the fine mist over the pool of water along my path. The walk in the rain that autumn morning was so familiar to how I imagined it will be that it seemed so unreal…

The hardy ones but even they too shall pass

When you're walking from your past

You can never walk too fast

Everyone's the same

When you're walking in the autumn rain

Walking in the autumn rain-     

-  Day One: Autumn Rain

More rain and wind and gray skies are forecasted

 It doesn't matter where you're from

'Cause wherever you are from

You got a long walk on

You got a long walk on

The past scattered like fallen leaves and refection on a pool of water

Would You Be A Butterfly Or Would You Just Be You?

I've had just enough time to...   have a butterfly dream

Taken in the Kota Kinabalu Highlands Park, Sabah

I dreamt I was a butterfly

And it dreamt it was me

And each thought he has the better dream

From flowers to flowers I flew

It walked through the woods on my feet

I fluttered and rode on the wind

It swam with graceful ease

I tasted nectar fresh on the flowers

It tasted ice-cream cold from the fridge

Lying on the grass, it admired the million stars

I marvelled at the thousand suns perched on a leaf

Then we were before Him

And He gently asked –

Would you be a butterfly

Or would you just be you?

We have often heard how nice it will be if we are a butterfly or a bird. Who wouldn’t want to fly? But before we attempt to take to the sky, have we made full use of our God given gifts? Have we used our legs to walk through the woods in the freshness of spring, in the shade of summer, in the colours of autumn, in the silence of winter? When was the last time we greeted the sunrise, watched the sun sinking below the line, laid on the grass and looked up at the night sky. If our feet have not felt the coarseness of sand, the clinging mud, the dampness of wet grass, what business have we to fly?

Buddha By The Wood

I've had just enough time to...   meet Buddha by the wood

Came across this Buddha exploring and strolling around an apartment block in Munich

It is said -

You can find Buddha anywhere

In every person that you meet

In the calm of every storm

In the silence of every noise

In the depth of every night

In the beauty of every sunrise

Still I was surprised –

When I found Buddha on a walk

In a distant land

By a pile of cut wood

Sitting there, serenely

Where he belongs

Part 1 – The Friendliest City In The World – War Torn Beirut?

I've had just enough time to...   take a walk down busy Beirut.

The broken down bench in Beirut where I ate my lunch.

If I were to ask you, your personal experience of the friendliest city in the world; each of you may give me a different reply. Some answers may seem obvious as top contenders. Some you may be mildly surprised at, others you may disagree as you may have a bad experience there. But would you have expected someone to say present day Beirut? Of all the cities I have visited from US to Europe to Asia, in my personal experience Beirut top the list. It is all based on a single day, alone with nothing to do; to pre-empt you from arguing against my choice. :D

The delicious Hawa chicken and pickled vegetable that was my lunch.

It was a Friday. I had a late afternoon flight and I’m not going to sit in my room reading a book or to watch TV until it is time to go. Immediately after breakfast, I put on the day’s essentials in my backpack and went for a long walk. Nowhere in particular, just to walk the street as far as I could go and back in time for my flight. Along the way, to my delight I came across a small nondescript Lebanese bakery.

I stood outside and snapped a few shots when the matronly proprietress with a smile as wide as her arms agitatedly waved me inside to do my shooting. That is in “Part 2 – The Man From Syria”. Would not blame you if you think my impression of Beirut’s hospitality is from that pleasant feeling as warm as the oven’s fire. But that was not all. After the coffee as thick and black as night, and succulent oven fresh bread with the aroma of cheese and thyme, I continued my walk as far as I could go before I think I should double back.

The warm receptions from the drivers on the road.

I bought a box of their local fast food – Hawa Fried Chicken that is served together with thick potato slices, cheese dips and pickled vegetable with sign language and walked back to the hotel on the other side of the road. I came across a broken metal bench under the shade of a giant tree and thought that would be a good place to rest my weary feet and eat my chicken. There I was, a Chinese gentleman sitting cross-legs on a broken bench without support, happily biting into the drumstick looking at the snared traffic, taking in the novelty of the situation. 

They were joking with me in a language I could not understand.

But I did not expect the reactions. A car honk jolted me; the driver shouted in a strange language I could not understand. But I understood the smile and the wave and I waved back. I thought that must be an isolated incident. But then at almost regular intervals, drivers noticed me and some of them greeted me loudly with smiles or waves or thumb ups. Some took the trouble to wind down the window. A father and son in a truck offered me a lift. Some was joking with me though they know I could not understand a single word they said and played hide and seek with my camera.  In nowhere in the world had I ever triggered anything as remotely close as this type of reaction. I did not do much that morning in Beirut but it was one of the most memorable days of my life.

And offered to take me along with them...

When I returned to the hotel, I looked at all those things I’ve bought or brought along with me which I did not want to bring back home. When the cleaning lady came, I gave them all to her. I hate throwing things away and was happy to have less to carry. There was a ring on the door. The cleaning lady came and gave me something of her own. I protested but she tried to tell me it is nothing and I will make her happy to accept it. And she gave me a hug. And we took a photo off the reflection from the mirror. I don’t know about your experiences, but for me, no other city even come close to Beirut as the friendliest city I ever encountered.

The Inspiration of Taiping Lake Garden - Part I

I've had just enough time to...   revisit Taiping Lake Garden

The beauty and serenity of Taiping Lake Garden and its town has inspired many of my posts. After the last post regarding the controversy surrounding the rain trees of the garden, I decided to revisit them and invite you to visit them together with me. (Click on the link to access any of the post)

“First Taste is Like First Love” 

The town is reputed to have the best “popiah” in the country. But it taste different from my distant memory so I compare it against first love.

“Loneliness Is an Empty Chair”

There is something very sad about empty benches and these row of empty benches under the ancient rain trees seemed so melancholy to me.

“Patriotism Is Not…”

 The political scene in the country is depressing with politicians trying to determine for us what patriotism is. I wanted to tell them what patriotism is not! The photo is taken in the museum near the lake.

“There is Nothing Like Walking among the Dead”

As much as the area surrounding the lake is beautiful, there are also quiet places that you can visit for reflection like the war cemetery. Don’t think me odd until you have taken a walk with the dead.

“Will A Name Live Forever?”

As I read the names and inscriptions on the tombstones, I wonder how long will a name live?  If it is carved in stone, will it live forever?

“If Life Is A Crooked Bridge”

I came across a crooked bridge in the garden and was confronted with this question “If Life is a crooked bridge, can you walk straight?”

What Is This Creature “Sir Tyre?” 

Upset by the political scene, I was inspired to write a satire. If you are Malaysian, you should be able to understand at least some of the allusion. I was looking for an image to go along with it when I thought this in front of the Taiping museum appropriate.

The Crocodile Behind The Man

I've had just enough time to...   see the crocodile behind the man

Taken while taking a walk back to my hotel in Kuching, Sarawak.

I saw the man

But not the crocodile behind

When I did see it

It was already too late

It had its jaw on my leg

Before it dragged me

Into its murky depth

I wonder

How is it

I saw the man

But not the monster

Behind the man

Under the Rain Tree, I Sang The Ash Grove.

I've had just enough time to...   remember "The Ash Grove".

Taken during a stroll under the rain trees in Taiping park.

The ash grove how graceful, how plainly 'tis speaking 

The wind through it playing has language for me. 

Whenever the light through its branches is breaking, 

A host of kind faces is gazing at me. 

The friends from my childhood again are before me 

Each step brings a memory as freely I roam. 

With soft whispers laden the leaves rustle o'er me 

The ash grove, the ash grove alone is my home.

My lips smile no more, my heart loses its lightness;

No dream of the future my spirit can cheer.

I only can brood on the past and its brightness 

The dear ones I long for again gather here. 

From ev'ry dark nook they press forward to meet me;

I lift up my eyes to the broad leafy dome, 

And others are there, looking downward to greet me

The ash grove, the ash grove, again is my home. 

Laura Wright - The Ash Grove

_______

Walking under the shade of the rain trees, this long forgotten song surfaced and I hummed to the tune of “The Ash Grove”. Different trees, different countries but the sentiment is the same. Music transcends borders and connects by “feel”.

If Life Is A Crooked Bridge.

I've had just enough time...   to walk a crooked bridge.

Taken in Taiping park.

If Life is a crooked bridge,

Can you walk straight?