???????

The death of the sun

A little girl sitting alone in a tragic weather
By the roadside culvert, smashed a while ago
Anxious look permeates her sweet bloody face
She wants God to patch her mother back.

She, the daughter of a suicide bomber
A martyr in the words of the supporting few
The mother had lived her life fighting
For a cause, genuinely legitimate to her.

With looks of fear and dead anguish
The scars on the face began to tell her woes
Of a painful saga inflicted on the young one
Because she witnessed the whole, become pieces.

She cries, gently wiping her face
With the rag she holds dearly upon
A piece from her mother’s last worn dress
Before her mum, burst unto pieces unknown.

The mother is dead leaving the girl alone
By the roadside, she still awaits her mother’s hug
Whilst the trickling tears wasting the bodily liquid
The little girl suffers the greatest pain today.

The war between the titans born of devils
Have left the girl together with roadside gravels
Nowhere to go, and no place to call home
And, the worst has happened, a mother is gone.

A tale of a suicide bomber is hard and tough
None can match the spirit enshrined within
That the life as a token given for shadowy reason
The end anticipated, but the pain we don’t know.

The little girl emotionally explodes within
Layer by layer her pain began to swirl
Tough indeed her life will be without a mother
And, can we say her mother is last of its kind?
Possibly the daughter holds the same mind,
soon to become.

©cyclopseven. All right reserved 270907.

An encounter

My ramble took me far
Into the caverns beyond the star
Where darkness and light equally dwell
To make us always walk on razor’s edge.

The unknown darkness impenetrable easily
But at ease it conquer the caverns for ages
Where dinosaurs still roam wild
To pounce on us at our slightest slumber.

As my slumber gets deeper
In delusion I begin to wander
Under a tree I take shelter
From the sweltering heat of the day.

I see ghosts dancing in front of me
Seducing me with proposals
Pinching every cell in my body
To satisfy the finer urges, however wild.
Nasty indeed the ghosts that dances
They send fear deep unto the recesses
of my mind, which I thought is safe
and the ghosts have proven the insecurity.

My encounter with the ghosts
Are nothing but the billowing smoke
Of desires that rises unknowingly
They remind me that they are still there
And I need to tie them up
Before they do so on me.

©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 240907.

Are we really progressing?

Life is a winding path that runs from where we stand. I ponder at every second that ticks away, what is this life all about. Is it a merely coincidental or is a fine carving by a master craftsman? As I was typing away my assignment, my mind began its wild travel into this wonders to ponder. So, not wanting to force myself to sit and type scholarly assignment, I let my mind running loose on this mystery for a distant that time permits me.

Are we really progressing? As I sit here on the round table in front of my office and staring at the environment around, I am almost convinced that we are progressing. The high rise building that provides accommodations for millions, but again to compare with, there are still squatters and slum dwellers among us. The motor vehicles that roar loud like a snoring lion too convinced me that transportation business is prosperous, but again to compare with, there are people who can’t afford to buy bicycles and what to say of motorcycles. I look around to see how and electricity and water suppies have moved within the convenient reach of the people, yet sad to say there are still people without that facilities and they go on using oil lamps to brighten their nights, water from well to wet their mouth and clean their bodies and to wash their clothes. I look around, telephone cables are gradually becoming invisible as wireless transmission is becoming popular, and everyone seems to be preoccupied with the talking business with hand phones in their hands. So many things have changed over the years and we come to accept that we are really progressing.

Are we losing something as we claim to be proud of this progress? Or are we just to ignore everything and continue our march to be within the scope of progression. I turned 360, I began to see the impact of modernization which has creep into our very beings. We all are rushing from ‘nowhere to nowhere’. This is the reality. Our senses, continually being bombarded with external stimulus, and we let our faculty of discrimination to fail us most of the time, just to enjoy the pleasure of the moment, out of the so called modernization.

Where does this modernization taking us to? Are we sharing the world with others or are we gradually widening the gap among the members of the society, under the banner of progress? It’s good to see progressive elements in the society. There a lot of good factors around that benefit us. But, nothing comes without a price tag on it. And, know what? The modernization has created two holes of selfishness and fears within us. The modern world, despite reducing the physical gaps between man, have spiritually distance them, thus there is a thirst for spirituality in this world. People do not know who they are actually. They try to become everyone they come across. If these two factors of fear and selfishness diminished, then we have every reason to celebrate the progression towards modernization.

Everyone is conscious of their own existence, own pleasures and wanting and self-satisfactions. Including me too. So, when change within going to take place. We are rob our values by succumbing to our own mental ruckus and we are degenerating in every ways we can possible think of.

Modernization is not a sin or a crime. But, to be strayed from our traditions, family values and individual values under the name of modernity is definitely sinful. Our own attitudes towards life and the world around us will be the yardstick to measure the impact of a modern world on us. While we go on enjoying every opportunity that appear to us, we must also create opportunities for those who are living a live lesser than us. Modernization gains its value, only when humanity is valued.

Errors under your tender care.
Mistakes are mine.
Corrections are yours.

©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 230907.

Beautiful dried leaves

I sit watching

The brown leaves
That decorates
The field.

How divine they look?
I am in awe
Inspiring beauty
Of dry leaves
Lying bare
On the grass.

Are they dead?
I asked repeatedly.
Nay.
I don’t think so.
How can the dead
Cast an attraction on us.

The brown leaves
Dried though
Carries within
The metamorphosis
Of nature’s law
To beautify
And decompose
With dignity.

Nature’s ingenuity
A genius hidden
In the dryness of the leaves.

©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 230907.

What may become??

one day I shall depart
unto the unknown deepest slumber
I shall be gone
leaving behind all the smiles and tears.

I know one day I shall be gone
unto the mysteries of unknown
stepping aside all the experiences
in this world, called earth.

I shall leave
my loved ones
my friends
my foes
my likes
my dislikes
and wander, I may
in an unknown world.

I don't know if these feelings
that I have now called attachment
or when I leave, will the feelings
be detached?

Will I be thrilled
to leave this world
and this body?

Will I mourn my own death?

©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 220907.

At what expense are we progressing???

Once again Malaysians are in a state of shock. Irrespective of race, religion, language, culture, lifestyles, social status and colors Malaysians joined together to mourn for the dead of Nurin Jazlin Jazimin. Nurin, eight years old, who was kidnapped on 20 August 2007. According to the reports published in the local dailies, eyewitnesses claim that a man dragged Nurin into a white van and sped off from the scene. Nurin, was said to have gone to a night market nearby her house, to buy hairclips when this incident happened.

While massive search being conducted to look for her, police had initiated intensive investigation into this case. Banners, posters and photos of the girl were put up and distributed to the members of the public by the parents and family members. After almost a month missing, suddenly last Monday, Nurin turned up dead and was found stuffed into a gym bag place at a shophouse in Petaling Jaya. The DNA test and dental records confirmed that it is Nurin.

She was tortured and brutally murdered. I cannot stop imagining how she might have suffered during the period in the hand of a monster. Post mortem reports revealed that the girl died of an infection. There were signs of foreign objects forced into her private parts which resulted in ruptured intestines.

The shocked parents couldn’t accept the reality that the DNA test confirmed the blood ties. They requested for a second test to be conducted. And the second test to confirmed same result. It’s understandable, after weeks of separation from the loved one, lack of sleep and food the parents had undergone hellish period of their lives. It can happen to anyone who breathe the same air and walk the same earth.

Yesterday, she was given a proper Islamic burial at Taman Ibu Kota Muslim cemetery with hundreds shed their tears. Let us pray that she rest in peace.

Ironically, God is watching all these, but silently.

Resources :
Most information contained here are taken from the local dailies, mainly,
The Star Newspaper and New Straits Times,

http://www.thestar.com.my/
http://www.nst.com.my/

Errors under your tender care.
Mistakes are mine.
Corrections are yours.

©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 220907.

Curtain Hole

The streak of gleam sun ray
Find its way through the hole in the curtain
Waking me up early in the morning
To strengthen my broken heart.

It says loudly with broadest smile
Oh, mankind, at each strike of pain
You fall into disdain that this has happened
Failing blindly to see me in that fall
You sheepishly surrender to it.

C’mon stand straight face me right on my light
Don’t you see my struggle at every morning rise?
Despite the curtains that blocked my view of you
I remained steady to build my faith and will
And, in the middle of that trouble, I found a tiny hole
To enter your room and bright it up for you.

Ha..ha..ha..man oh man, troubles are like the curtains
If you but care to stand upright to face the troubles
A tiny hole will reveal itself for you to experience the light
And, know you my dear one, through that hole a solution will come.

©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 200907.

The Spastic Charity Raffle Draw 2007

Being an NGO, The Cerebral Palsy (Spastic) Children's Association of Penang has to continuously embark on some large scale fund raising projects in order to sustain the implementation of new programmes or extension of its physical infrastructures. Through my 12 years working with this Association, I have seen and been part of many fund raising projects such as Spastic Charity Food Fair, Spastic Merdeka Lucky Draw, Walk-Jog-Wheel-A-Thon and many others which I can't list out here.

Now there is a dire need for space as we have implemented some new programmes and lack of space poses a big problem. So to start with we started off with The Spastic Charity Lucky Draw 2005. Though we targeted to achieve about RM 1,000,000.00, the response was far from satisfactory. So, this year we are embarking into the second part of the fund raising project to build an extension of the 2nd floor on the existing one. This project is called The Spastic Charity Raffle Draw 2007, aiming to collect RM360,000.00. We are selling the raffle Draw tickets prized at RM3.00 each.

The Cerebral Palsy (Spastic) Children's Association of Penang provides various services for the benefits and upliftment of the individuals with cerebral palsy. Among the services provided are Hydrotherapy, Speech Therapy, Computer Assisted Lessons, Occupational Therapy and academic activities. Over the years most children have shown some marked improvement in various aspects of development and this definitely augurs well for the development of the Association.

Yesterday, 19 September 2007, we hold the launching ceremony for The Spastic Charity Raffle Draw 2007 at our premises. From morning my colleague and I were busy setting up the P.A. system and stage decorations to ensure that everything goes well. The programme started at 3:00pm with two performance by our students. Then, the introductory speech by the Organising Chairman Dato' Dr. Lim Huat Bee, followed by speech from our President Y.B. Ng Fook On and lastly a speech by our guest of honor Dato Seri Chew Weng Khak. At 3.30pm we headed from our hall to the field to officially launch the event. The three top prizes, a car, two motorcycles and two Pensonic LCDs were displayed there. We had the press cover the event from beginning till the end. Though the launching was very simple, we hope the message will get across to the public especially our well wishers, through our local dailies. The draw date will be on the 23 December 2007 at Prangin Mall at 6:00pm.

Its interesting to work with an NGO like this, but at times things can become taxing especially when it comes to multitasking. Sometimes we have to stay back to complete our work. Pay is a main issue in an NGO, yet despite the dissatisfactions and grumblings that take place here, there are some elements of satisfaction too, to be cherished at the end of the day. Malaysians are known for generosity and I hope this time around we will reach our target of RM360,000.00.

Its not the building that we are talking about here, its the life prospect of the disabled individuals and their future. If you care, do donate towards this worthy cause. God Bless.


Errors under your tender care.
Mistakes are mine.
Corrections are yours.

Living and earning

Little do we realize how important is living compared to earning. Though earning constitutes the daily occurrence of life, the essence of life is how we live while earning. More importantly in the process of making a living, many of us live to earn. This is the saddest part of our lives. It’s perfectly fine to earn, as its one of our essential requirement without with we can’t lead a proper life on the face of this earth. A pertinent issue here is how do we earn, righteously or unrighteously? While we earn we should not forget to live. Nowadays many of us have forgotten the art of living and develop an establish pattern of earnings.

If we earn the right way, we will always be conscious and follow the voice of conscience so that we do not deliberately take advantage of another man’s opportunity or skill to the extreme of jeopardizing or neglecting him of his livelihood. This is one among the many things that my dad told me two weeks before he passed away, 22 years ago. Rightful manner of making a living take into consideration many of pertinent issues in life before one claim his gains by rightful manner. We must always be vigilant in this process, as along the way we may, due to our selfishness become very defensive and deprive a person of his/her opportunities. This can happen to any of us at any point of time in life.

Though we try hard to practice a rightful way of making a living, the greed factor may sway us to look at only the profits minus humanity. We have to learn to resist this. It may take some time before we place the human values ahead of everything. Then, the earnings will become a highly beneficial and can give us utmost inner satisfaction. Lets us pray that our conscience guide us into this understanding on the process of earning.

Errors under your tender care.
Mistakes are mine.
Corrections are yours.

Memories down the lane – King Cobra

The word ‘king’ itself sufficient to indicate a majestic, prominent and impeccable nature of a character, be it an animal or man. But, King Cobra, despite its majestic and shiny appearance is very much feared by many. My six years stay with a cobra was indeed a wonderful tale of fantasy for those chose to disbelieve me. When my family members slowly began to move out from Pengkalan Hulu, a place where part of my childhood life is enshrined amidst the fresh greenery of that hilly town, I chose to remain there for sometime. This is due to the fact that I had not decided nor had any intention to move out from there.

We lived in a double storey wooden house built during the Japanese Occupation in the then Malaya. Two families occupied the house. My family and my uncle’s family. It is a very big house and looked like the houses that one can see in a horror movie. The planks were showing the grayish color of deterioration, an indication that some repairs need to be carried out. However, my days in that house went by without much complain over the condition of the house, and I really enjoyed living there.

A few months after all my family members shifted from there, I sensed some kind of presence in that house but I didn’t know what it was. I didn’t bother to find out what it was. Each time I enter the house, I could sense a kind of smell and to add that there were some markings such as dust, trails of liquid etc. on the floor, a sign that something had moved about the house. Some weeks later, while I was lying on my bed listening to some fine country and western, I heard some noise from underneath my bed. As I was so habitual sleeping with my hand left hand hanging by the side of the bed, I felt the bed sheet was pushed from inside and against my hand. Without second thought I bent down and pull the bed sheet up to check who the culprit was, but couldn’t see anything except that I kept hearing a hissing sound. Yes, it was a cobra.

For almost six years, we were sharing the same house. It was a kind of agreement like; you take care of your own business and I take care mine. Though in the beginning, I was frightened to death, but as time flies by, I learn to appreciate my new housemate. We lived together for six years with each respecting one another’s presence in the house. Almost every day, it would slither across the living room and the bedroom, without making any threatening motions. We can live in harmony once we obey the rules of nature. I left the place in 1992 and don’t know what happened to the cobra after that. May this harmony continuously exist at all place at all time.

Errors under your tender care.

Mistake are mine.

Corrections are yours.

©cyclopseven 2007. All rights reserved.

Stalker

I feel hunted.

The stalker is here
Stalking me all the seconds
I know I have to nab him
And put him to rest on the pages

Before the rules decide
Whether I have done my part
And my job be accepted
So I maybe credited with six.

Now I have to stalk the stalker
My thesis.

©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 180907.

Nothing to write?

I sit cramped In between my knees
Grumbling there is nothing to write
But something keep telling me
There is something to write
And I began to write
‘nothing to write’.

©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 180907.

Self

Many roads I may have taken
Yet I move to nowhere
But here I am enshrined until death
Within this body this self shall stay.
Irrespective of illness and health
This place is a paradise called home
For without this you the Great Lord
Would remain totally oblivious to me, the self.

To every nook and corner
My journey may have taken me to,
But never was I ever removed
From this pedestal where I sit
Silently witnessing the play of my senses.

Allow me the greater leap, my lord
The embodiment of endless compassion.
Allow me once my lord
Let me break away from this shell
So, permanently I shall be seated within you,

©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 170907

Letter to a friend

How are you, my dear friend?
Hope things are bright and right
With everyone around in happiness, dwell.

I am fine without anything to grumble
Except time is running fast
Leaving my youth behind
In this race towards future.

I am sorry for the increasing silence
In this golden silence
I wish to hear the footsteps of god
So I may know my original origin.

Don’t get me wrong buddy
In life we do take a break
At times a little longer than usual
Just to return, to where we belong within.

This letter is an important matter
To wade off the rainfall in your mind
That kills the sunny shower within you
And, lengthens the worrying drought.

Life is a mysterious journey
We come across many people
Some let their hands slip away from us
While some clings strongly to us
This bond is hard to explain
As to why not all but a few are close to us.

Though my silence takes me far within
Remember my friend that in my silence
You always there trailing my mind like the shadow
That falls only when the light is blocked.

I am there my friend, always.

©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 110709.

Man, are we man?

Man we are, born as man
In others we always try hard
To look for ourselves
This self of ours we wanna impose
On another spirit
And say proudly
“hey, buddy we are compatible”.

Little differences take us away
Letting run a deep river in between
A river that no man can imagine to swim
The river of hatred.
We always wish to see
Only ourselves in whomever we come across
We realize not man
But, that’s what we are and we do
All the way through all this time
We spend on this earth.

Why must our reflection
Through another man be projected?
When the spirit within
Is the divine, the same in all of us.
Can’t any man appreciate another one
Without digging to find ourselves
In the man across the life?

Why man? Why man?
People are waning away
Waking in silent selfishness
Looking for only ourselves in others.
Hardly ponders
How much of others do we imbibe in us?
Oh man
Such a painful creature
Lame in thoughts
Shame in actions.
I shudder to think
That I am one too!

©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 100007.

Inequal equality

We all breathe the same air
Yet very few say, “I care”
Amidst many who don’t care.

©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 070907.

Warring thoughts

Ravaging worms
Gnarled the mind,
And the emotion bleeds
In frustration, reverie stands still.

My fall is a torture
Together the shadow suffer
Given a chance
The liberty, my shadow seeks.

Alas! It nature’s play
That it should stay with me
When the light is block
To darken the trail
Follow me back
Or lead me the way.

©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 010907.

Fear

The fearful agony
Is still intact with me
Though many times
Stubbornly I shirked it hard.

I refused that pain
Which, always frowns
Upon my freedom
Chaining me slave-like
to fear of pain.

It remains and I believe it is here to stay
To accompany this mortal to his grave
To rest in peace with this unrest mind
And its fearful to think, I may have to go with ‘fear’.

©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 020907.

MERDEKA (Independent)

Celebration of independence
Roam the streets in Malaysia
50 years the chain been broken
Away from the grips that colonize.
The land is ours as we march across
The earth of Malaysia.

Today 31^st August
Our flag raised 50 years ago
Still going high
To the cares of the wind above
With whispers and shouts of MERDEKA.

MERDEKA MERDEKA MERDEKA
Lets Malaysia MERDEKA.

Lets all Malaysians
Rightfully flags the legitimacy of being Malaysians
In this nation called Malaysia
irrespective of race and religion,

Then we know we are truly MERDEKA.

©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 310807.