A true story of courage

There was no expression on Teacher James’ face. He distributed the classroom work for us to do. It was Bahasa Melayu class and we get to write and colour that day. There were only four of us in the classroom. At that time, I know there was a great chaos going on outside of our school. How did my other classmates have known it earlier but not me?

    On the paper work, there were four items that we have to name and then colour. I remember one of the items was a pencil. I named every item and took out my colour pencils, but how disappointed I was to see there were only four colours left in there and the entire tip was broken! I didn’t have a sharpener and I was too embarrassed to borrow from my other friends.

    Teacher James asked us to quickly finish our colouring. I didn’t think much, in my embarrassment, I braved through the fact that I only had four colour pencils in the box and all of them were broken. I said in my heart, “I must quickly finish this.”

    Suddenly, a loud sound exploded like that of a bomb. We were so shocked but Teacher James asked us to stay calm and to quickly finish our colouring. He stood by me now, waiting for me to finish. I was too embarrassed to look at him because I was holding that tiny broken tip of my colour pencil. He calmly stood by me and when I finished colouring the last picture, he quickly took the paper away.

    I can finally looked up, and realized that I was the last one to pass up my work. My other friends were quiet and looked quite blankly. We all knew something bad was happening outside our school, like there was some kind of a war that’s happening. There were smokes everywhere and many people were gathering on the street. We didn’t understand what was happening but our faces said it was something bad.

    Teacher James asked us to quickly take our bags and follow him, the four of us obliged quietly. While walking outside the classroom but still inside the school compound, I heard terrible loud noises and smell of smokes everywhere. I heard sirens too. I immediately asked myself, “How do I go home?” We didn’t know where Teacher James is bringing us, but we were walking fast, quietly through the back alley.

    At the end of the alley, I saw my mother and my older sister. In my young mind, I was puzzled as to how they got there especially my mother, because she didn’t have a car, my dad always had the car. And I had no recollection at that time that my sister was also schooling at the same school with me! 

    Mom held our arms and we climbed onto a big, green lorry. I was again puzzled and thought mom must have stopped the lorry on the street because we didn’t even know the driver! “That was very brave,” I thought. She braved through it while being on the dangerous street.

    Arriving at the hospital junction, I looked at the driver, he was quiet and looked worried. At such tender age of seven, I also sensed that he was determined to drive away and get us out of that hectic area. He may have his own family to come home to but giving us a lift home that day was very heroic of him.

    In year 1986, a political uproar known as the Sabah Riots broke out between March and May on the street of Sembulan towards Kota Kinabalu city centre. Individuals were struggling to go through their own personal ordeal during that period of chaos.

    Certainly from braving through the embarrassment of not having a perfect box of colour pencils to braving through the street calling on a stranger to save her children to braving through a sacrifice of ownself helping others to get home safely. 

    We stood outside of our comfort self that day and survived the chaos, externally and internally.

    What a day to remember!

Of Loss of Someone

Spending the last physical hours with her was crucial. It was a time of mixed feelings, of letting go and of retaining her. The best and the least was retaining her in this four-walls of a broken heart. 

The mixed feelings were like a tempestuous sea that knows no boundary. But one thing that stayed firm, was the final refuge that she has given me in the midst of grief in a vast abyss. 

She has brought me dancing, with the ruach, given me words of comfort that very much appeared as the Light, confirming my faith that I am not lost as I confirmed to her, her God-given ability.

We were two friends communicating at the universe-level, the spirit-level, sitting side by side near the stars. God, you are so great for creating and sustaining such fellowship at a vast level. Can I find another? Death, You say, is a seed of a new life. Just like dead leaves nurturing the soil and out come new trees. Perhaps… For sure.

As I look at her as the wood covered her face, I felt dead myself. Once again, the Light of hope that reappeared through her, vanished, and I am back to grieving, only now it felt double. I wanted to go back to happy days, but it was so far behind and my energy could not sustain my wish. 

She was covered. Soon she was buried, but I could not bring myself to witness it, yet my heart is buried enough.

I was back at the abyss, with no trees, no human hands, that I can grab and hang onto. My legs were weak and shaking greatly, I could not feel the ground. Air of fear filled my stomach, I felt I was floating and soon hit the ground below me, and this happened many times, with no indication of time when it will end.

She came and given me comfort from this abyss and confirming my understanding. But now she is gone, and I am back to being alone. But this time I have with me, words of understanding, that she handed to me, from the ruach.

Still devastated, I decided to have a healthy drink, stopped by at the famous stretch of coconut juices and grilled food. My spider totem said it bears message about light and darkness and the delicate balance between the two. So with cigarettes in my hands and a healthy coconut juice, I was sitting at a particular stall, alone, with only smokes from the grill permeated the air. Felt like I was catapulted out to the air from a roller coaster with no measures of security.

There was nothing I could do to bring her back and the comfort that is embedded in her soul. I sat there quietly without knowing what to think or what to pray. I was amazed that I didn’t faint out of dehydration for the lack of water and for the full blast of tears. 

I stayed there for hours, didn’t want to go back to familiar places. Just watching the ‘now’ without thinking yet while feeling deep.

Happy thoughts, happy days… were what I was wishing. But I am forced to taste life at its truestness; if such word doesn’t exist then words are not enough to describe the experience. The truest life is made of light and shadow, wheat and weed, death and resurrection. I realized there’s no running away from this, it befalls every man and woman ever living on earth.

The burn that I feel inside my heart gives way, little by little, to a clearer path. A tragedy has happened and I have no control over it, thus the raging fire burned my ego that I am forced to detach from it for fear of total annihilation – the death of my soul.

Why do I feel this so deeply? Take it away! Take it away! I want nothing to do with it! Give me happy days! Then the wind blew the thick smokes of the grill, slapping my face, bringing a message, “One must not crave the roses, if she cannot grasp the thorns.” Aghh!

I realized I must make a choice, which ironically, there is only one. The ruach that is always in me gave me no choice but to choose Life. There, in the middle of a busy street, I was forced to abandon attachments. It was not without a great fight with the giants in me, I could literally felt the pull to my left and to my right. But the pulls subsided when I made my decision. Then I realized it was possible only through humility. Humility to accept what is.

After two rounds of coconut juice, I picked up my bag and my car key and I drove home, then I slept my exhaustion away.

...of loss of a friend, mother, father, a brother, sister, loved ones in all persons.

One that will surely follow death is Life.