When a child cries

When you see a child cry, hug her tight and don't let her go till she has dried her tears. For in your arms there is comfort and happiness.

A song of my own

It seems a little silly now that I have two blogs and have to maintain two instead of one. It is just that I wanted  a blog under my company name rather than my name and to focus more on work, but it all sorts of blend into each other so wither the difference?

I have an interview to do today on my article of Mums who own FB boutiques, I am glad the editor of the daily newspaper thought it interesting to do along with my ex-con and ex-%^&* turned artist and professional article. I proposed about four articles and he picked two after some silence as he is a really busy man. Anyway I am raring to go and happy with my articles in Manja which has been published.

Goes to show that I have to work hard and produce as much as is possible without losing that laid back feeling as I wake up each day and slowly ease myself into work.

I am now in my jammies, ha ha, just swept the house and plonked right back to my dutiful friend, my pc. Nothing much happening there these days. I am meeting my new fb friend on Monday for drinks and looking forward to meeting a person whom you had wonderful chats with.

I was thinking I must write something inspiring for my blog is mywordstoinspire.blogspot.com so let me think of one for the next entry.

Anyways, I went to a spontaneous song writing program Isdar and it was a novel way of self expression coming up with spontaneous lyrics and melody and recording them. I am not proud of my work but there is a song that I really want to put into music. In fact it has been recorded by Khair M Yasin a singer songwriter and I am forever grateful to him. He is encouraging me to record the song, but I think I'd rather hear him sing it than me.

Chores aside

The kitchen is in a mess and I am not ready to tackle the second last chore for today. Which is to clean the kitchen, and then after that to fold the laundry. Luckily I have a few more hours before my daughter Ayesha returns home. I am sorry to say that I have been giving her simple meals for the past few days and she complained the vegetables were not fresh yesterday. Poor girl, she has been subjected to my lacklustre cooking while Nek is out.

I am not wanting to spend extra so I have been cooking what's available and today it is kai lan soup with soya sauce beef and potato and fried beancurd. It has to do. I know it does not excite the palate.

Yesterday what excited my palate was a bowl of soto or chicken soup with rice cakes and potato pattie and wow was it so declicious I wallop it in a jiffy, and did not give my sister a second chance at tasting it. Haha, she nearly ordered another bowl of soto having had the equally good mee rebus at Kg Glam Cafe but we decided we will look too greedy and beside, I was full from all the drinks.

I am feeling equally bloated after a small lunch and lots of water. In fact I am beginning to feel sleepy. Think I'll snooze then clean. Mmmmmzzzzzzz.

Pyramid Meditation with Apekman

Last night I walked the stretch of Chinatown with my Apekman, my best senior citizen friend whom with his bermudas and polo shirt and cap and purple backpack and beautiful sandals remind me of a kid on an adventure. We were about to discover Pyramind Meditation, having turned up for this meetup.com free event.

Chinese New Year was palpably in the air with the decorations and many shops still closed and in from of a karaoke pub we found a pair of ladies in tight short red dresses firing some crackers.

This new year I have been with Apekman thrice, one to celebrate over wine, siew mai and sushi at his home near where I lived and one more time sitting at Chinese Garden at night, discussing everything under the stars.

Our friendship has been for nearly 10 years and he has been beside me through thick and thin, always giving me love, faith and knowledge. It is from him that I learn more of the secrets to the universe and we were on an adventure together on our spiritual development that cross all religious borders. He is a Catholic and I am a Muslim and we have respect for each others beliefs.

So there we were sitting under handmade plastic pyramids, mine a bright blue and in the darkness for one hour we meditated, focusing on our breaths. It was my first time in a group meditation apart from up short sessions during yoga. We were at a yoga centre at South Bridge Road and I felt comfortable with the group which was a good mix of Chinese, Malays and Indians.

At the end of the session we shared our experiences and I shared that in the darkness I saw many pyramids on a plain and I saw the colour purple. Interesting was my recollection of a similar meditation session on my own when I had actually traveled through space and time just a week earlier. I saw myself as a scribe, a man in 15th century Brussels. I am looking forward to the Full Moon meditation come next week  and I hope it will be more awesome. I did not buy the pyramid hat that was on sale for meditation at home. I am not sure if my family will understand. The pyramid structure helps to focus energy and give food placed under it more lasting power. It gives humans to more spiritual power, something like that anyway.

Racing and streaming thoughts

It is a buzz to be on a creative spurt but it is also very draining. I need lots of rest in between the sprints and lots of water too. It is now my bedtime at 10.30 am as I wake up at 5am to prepare Ayesha's breakfast and lunch. It will be simple vegetarian burger for her lunch and bread with Nutella, toasted for breakfast. I have three appointments tomorrow so I must have rest in the morning after my walk.

Today I walked 135 blocks away and took a bus home after having two soft-boiled eggs with teh tarik at a coffeeshop. It feels good to be free to make choices in life. To have peace within and without. The peace to breathe and hear your thoughts streaming or racing.

Tristan Jacob

Youth becomes you


Save your eyes of old


They spoke of past and present hurts


Wild nights, seeds unsown


Yet fatherhood becomes you


A protector of the unborn


You play with her wide-awake curiosity


Which mirrors your own


You dance with life


The meaning of philosophy


You sleep with the enemy


To learn secrets untold


Unfold its honey


The doors to eternity


You step not the borders


Of lies and trysts


Tristan you peddled dreams


Of distant lands and disinhibitions


Freedom from lust


The animal unfolds


You turned the other cheek


And build castles in shifting sands


The leaves of love you gather


You make a bonfire


Whenever you die


Your ashes to phoenix rise


Your heart is in the right place


Your warmth embrace


Life knows no bounds


For eternal is your soul


In fraternal spirit we meet


In body we feat


Tristan, there shall be no defeat


8.2.2011

Your Kiss

Without a touch
You kiss my lips
In a beautiful garden
I feel your heat on my skin
The wind whispers poems
We are seldom two
Even though near we are far in sight
Your nature's kiss is my embrace
To the soul
My spirit
A gift
Of your Kiss

7.2.2011

Traveling Light

Where does a journey begins?  Is it in the heart, the mind or the soul? Truly it is inseparable. It begins at the beginning where there was Him and Him alone. “I was a hidden treasure and I wish to be known. Therefore I created.” I am His creation and I am a jewel being polished to shine till I find the hidden treasure, again and again.

Last night, my soul travelled again to the vast universe. I close my eyes and I see darkness of space and the lights which are angels, multitudes of them. I see purple lights and I enter them and saw objects and people in space and time. They whiz by as I pan by them and they are moving at high speed but a speed slower than light so I can make them out as something from a bygone era in Europe. People in old world costumes, horses, carriages, household paraphenalia.

I saw the galaxy of stars and I approach a black hole and as I enter I saw what is on the other side, a parallel universe much like Earth. I enter a portal which will tell my fortune and I saw many tables with writings, books, pens, stamps, from the past, in Europe of the 15th century. I am Yohanna and my name means Life in Arabic or God is Gracious in Hebrew.

My soul knows multiple lives in multiple parallel universes, in all I was always the scribe, I write, that is what I do. I am a writer. I am a teacher. I am a traveler. Now I know I don’t need planes because I am flying without wings. I fly as the light travels. I travel light.

Pinch Me My Prince

I wish to say I do not know you
Yet I think we have met
My being feels the touch
Of a lover's kiss
Yesteryears
Centuries reborn
I see I
In your iris of blue
You were my prince
Once upon a time
You kissed me
And I slept
Never to wake up
From Dreamland
Pinch me I am dreaming now

Ciumanmu

Tanpa menyentuh
Kau cium bibirku
Di satu taman nan indah
Ku rasakan hangat di kulitku
Angin sepoi-sepoi bahasa
Tidak biasa kita berdua
Namun dekat jauh di mata
Ciuman alam adalah dakapanmu
Pada sang rohani
Kalbuku
Anugerah
Ciumanmu

6.2.2011

You are my cup of coffee

I am eating mee soto, a Malay dish made of Chinese noodles and spicy chicken soup. Last night I was too hungry after my Understanding the Quran class and had dinner with my sister and Ummi at Geylang. I am just having a small portion of my mum's best mee soto for breakfast.

Today is a departure from most days when I do not sleep after subuh. I am wide awake, I think I should change my sleep pattern to sleep at 10 and wake up at 5 and not sleep back thereafter. I love the fresh morning air, in fact I am going to walk in the park after my breakfast.

Breakfast is an apple and lots of water first thing in the morning and something a bit more substantial, but not too much a little later. I am having mostly the chicken soup and the potato cutlet, I am not interested in the noodles in this mee soto. My mum bought an insipid noodle which is of a different brand and the bean sprouts are limp, I like them raw for the crunch.

I submitted my two articles for the wedding supplement of Manja yesterday and I hope my editor likes it. It didn't take me long to cook up the stories, but when you are working it out, you need a little patience and leave time for it to grow as you piece the puzzle through. In between you get writers' block when you can't really write anything because the story is not ripe, so you just have to chill and hang out with friends. I haven't been out for more than two weeks until the day before yesterday. I love coffee and conversations, in that order.

I am having my half mug of coffee now, I have cut down basically to two half mugs of coffee a day when I am home. Here is a poem to catch my morning coffee mood:

Ode to Coffee
I hold your cup of temptation in my hand
I feel the heat warming my inner vessel
You fill my senses with it
I am quick witted and alert
All I need is some conversation
That goes with this bit of poison
You kill me but ever so softly
I am putty in your hands
Always, I imbibe you with my passion

2.2.2011