All M!a
Feeling so dissapointed.
Hmm wer shall i start. . i am feeling so pain n dissapointed. My buddy thinks i have secrets that i didnt tell him. haizz. seriously at this point of my life ,i have tried my best not to hide things from him. even tho i feel tht things not gonna workout between us, at least as a fren i've tried my level best. but i guess its about time for me to just follow the flow. not to think too much. The more i think i make this relationship a complicating one..i am just a fren to him. why m i making my self so complicated to think all this. loos like i am my own best fren to console myself. lotsa things in my mind. but i just dunno which one should i pen down.my feelings towards him, my feelings bout me...?? why should i bother to think what people gonna think bout me n etc. i should move on. i appreciate him alot, i noe certain help tht he have done for me is beyond limit. no one else will do this to me. but he is there whnever i needed him.. at the same time no point me thinking of goin back to him, he has clearly told me ther is no chnace for me. fair enuf for him, as there were things happened tht make him behave like this.. so wake up my dear(* refering to myself).. dun sit n cry. take responsible for what i have done n move on. this is what he used to advice me. Just one request GOD, gimme the courage to move on. love him so much..gud nite
Oh god..there she comes n i am having pain..
I wonder why girls have to go thru lotsa pain.. i was having my gud time n arghhhhh she came. neway i am glad in a way it is not a painful as before. I stil rmmber those days i had to be hospitalised just for the pain. Thank god my hero saved me. Dr Dev Kumar Menon. i am grateful to u doc. *wink wink* he is good looking tho. Neway back to my pain. haiz what should i do. i have tried many way. eating 2 full chocolate bar, warm water, do sum yoga pose.. nothing works on me.. i am feeling so frustrated.
just came back from having hot chocolate... thinking of wat to do now....
any idea???
next week to tokyo
i will be spending a week in tokyo from 21 June - 27 June.
Cant wait!
Que Sera Sera.. what will the future be.. Part I
Remember the song of our childhood, Que Sera Sera, whatever will be, will be.... I have been meaning to write about our life without man of the house for so many years now, never had a clue how to begin. I was 44 when I became a widow, and I am 53 now. My young princes have grown into handsome young men now, and yet I haven't really pen down the experience. The truth is, I had began writing in various locations (loose papers, note books, PCs) all of which I have lost touched (or missing). I should begin it here, I think this is the appropriate place for me to 'recite' my thoughts, knowing the path might be different now, the sad feeling has mellowed down. As the proverb says, much water has flown down the bridge. In 1999 I looked at life differently from how I am looking now... I was younger, worried about the princes, worried about how I would cope with them and life 'alone'. Of course, I was never really alone, in any Malay family, the word alone does not really exists, family members, family extension members are always there, loving and caring, sometimes becoming nuisance....Many years ago, when my husband passed away, I felt as if all eyes were on me, a single mom with four growing boys. They would be wondering what lies ahead for us, what would the future of these boys without a father be. It was Friday, 11th. November 1999, the death and the funeral that same day, there was a kindergarten graduation for my youngest prince Liran Glomli on Monday after that. Being end of school season, there were various meetings with teachers from three different schools for the other three princes that same week. It was a hectic life, I was miserable, I was sad, I had no partner to share the burden with. I thought I could not manage but life went on. There were outpouring of condolencense , from relatives, friends, and people with good intentions. Seven or eight days after that, it was Ramadan, our fasting month. I thank our great Allah for that perfect timing... for fasting is an exacting act of deeply personal worship seeking a raised level of Allah-consciousness. I was sad but contented.
Ramadan being the ninth month of the Islamic Lunar calendar and the holiest month we are obliged to abstain from all food, drink, between dawn and sunset. Purity of thought and action is paramount. The act of fasting helped to redirect the sadness in my heart away from worldly activities, towards Allah. I did not ask WHY because deep down I knew it was all for the best. Allah had his plan, Allah worked in His mysterious ways. The month of Ramadan is a time for spiritual reflection, prayer, doing good deeds and spending time with family and friends, helps to teach us self-discipline, self-restraint and generosity. Though there was one less place at the table during sahur (early morning meal) and iftar (breaking fast) we managed very well. Family and friends continued to pop-in, call, there were plenty of guidance, food, extra love going round. I buried myself in prayers, I did not have time to cry............to be continued....
Centuries of Stories - 2nd Century
INTO THE DARK....... by HENRIETTA BRANDFORD
I was born out of doors. I think, under the tall green bracken or out on the bee-singing heather. My mother loved such places. She died when I was very small but I remember her. She loved me and held me close. She did not want to leave me. She was one of the lake people, and our house was built on stilts, over the water. All night the lake lap-lapped under our floor.
When my mother died I was taken in by a woman called Marne who moved me away from the lake to live beyond the forest. I got no love from her - cold food and a cold heart, that was her way. Blows and curses. Goban, her man was worse. Many's the time I thought he'd kill me. I used to think that if I did what they wanted, they would take to me, but they never did. They wanted my labour, not me.
That's why they sent me to carry the warning. It was a simple message: the Romans are coming, clanking up the hillsides, tall as giants. This is our land, but their general Hadrian has ordered the building of a great wall across it, to keep us away. It never will. They may be powerful and strong, with their gods and their roads and their long, long marches, but this is our land and we'll keep it.
I was to run to the lake. They said I must run all night and not stop until I'd warned the lake people. I said: "It will be night time, and dark." They laughed.
Marne and Goban were grabbing what they could carry and running north almost before I left them. "How will I find you when I'm done?" I asked. They didn't answer.
"Head for the river and sundown," the head man told me. "Cross where the rocks make stepping stones. Follow the stream through the wood. You'll find the village on an island in a lake."
He did not give me a knife or a spear. I had no wool cloak and no shoes either. I do not like the dark. It presses on me and makes me afraid. The spirits of the dead love darkness. So do the priests, whom everybody fears. Also the wolf and the boar and the bear.
As I left the village, mad Mab tottered out of her hut and laid her bony hand on my head. She wiped a sign onto my forehead with her thumb. Writing is forbidden to us. Only the priests may write. I felt afraid, but I trusted her, because on those nights when Marne threw me out, or when I had to run from Goban's fist, I ran to Mab and she would let me in. Mostly she had no food and no fire, but she let me stay with her. I said goodbye to her and she kissed me. Then I ran towards the river.
Smell of the bog myrtle as I push through the bushes. Smell of mint, and the water close by. I reach the river just as dusk wraps the land in mystery. The rocks are slippery and the water's deep. Water will suck you under if it can. Wait until the sun is gone. Now the sky is red like blood. Fish rise to catch the last of the dancing flies. Deer step out of the wood to drink at the river. Maybe an old grey wolf follows behind. Watch where the evening star will rise.
The star will show me the way. They told me not to stop but how can you run if you don't know the way?Moonlight, starlight, bad'uns won't come out tonight. I think my mother taught me that. Here is my star now. Look to the oak tree. Mark where the sun goes down. See where the star comes up. Now run.
Deer scatter when I stand. The dark is thicker now. River plants, cold under my foot, give off a good clean scent.
I run under the trees and the dark is all around me. These are yew trees. when the priests cut mistletoe from the yew they sacrifice to Lugh. I don't want their sacred knives digging in my entrails.
Water beside me. Look for the star in every clearing. Run until my lungs hurts and my heart hammers. Stop, breathing hard and loud. Quiet, quiet. I'll sit and rest a moment. I hear the song of water over stones. My eyes close. Only for a moment. Then I'll run again.
Wake to the sound of footfalls in the dark. Two priests come down to the water. No one can hide from them, they can see in the dark. What will they do to me? I make myself small and quiet and pray to Macha our mother to protect me. They lean over the water, killing something small they take from a sack. When they have finished they go back the way they came. They don't want me. I stand up, stretch, and run.
Wolves call to one another in the moonlight, long, shivering wails. I run under holly trees, the prickles sting my bare feet. After the prickle is out, the sting remains. I will run around them. where is the water? I have lost the stream. The wolves are coming close, very close. Is it me they're hunting?
A yip in the dark, ahead of me. another behind me. Climb like a cat up the ivy on a big oak tree. I sit on a broad branch, high above the pathway, with my legs drawn up tight. An old grey wolf trots out of the bracken. He stands under my tree, looking up. Moonlight shines on his long teeth. His mate comes out from under the bracken and stands beside him, staring at me. She is asking me a question but I don't know what it is. Now comes a long cry, a hunting cry, from off behind. Old man wolf and his mate run away into the darkness. It wasn't me they wanted.
I sit in the tree, shaking. From here I can see pst the wood and down into the valley. There's a fire down there. Firelight shines on the helmets of the Romans. They clothe themselves in iron, makes them hard to kill. I must move quietly. If they catch me they'll kill me. If they kill me, the lake people die too. I want to stay safe in my tree. I want to warn my mother's people. I want to hide. I want to run. Cloud covers the moon, the wood grows pitchy black. Down in the valley the fire glows red. Goban would stay in this tree. Goban has no pride, no courage, no love for anyone. But I am not like him. I remember how my mother loved me.
I scrabble down the ivy. The moon sails out to light my way. I run down to the valley, moving quietly, carefully around the camp. A dog barks. Guards pace inside their palisade. They do not see the boy running past in the dark.
Ahead, the lake shines like a silver dish. I stand and stare while my fear and my anger and my sorrow rise in my chest and take my breath away. I think of my mother, take a deep breath and run downhill and out on to the wooden causeway. My feet thud, the wood is wet, I trip and roll over. I have not fallen all my long run, but now I fall like a fool, thumping down on my arse, ringing the wooden causeway like a bell.
A man runs out and hauls me up by the elbow. He brings his spear up under my chin. "Who are you?" he whispers. "Tell me, before I kill you." His spear pricks sharp into my neck.
Before I can answer, a door opens in a house close by and a woman steps out. she walks over to where I crouch, the spear at my neck. She puts out her hand to trace the sign on my forehead. "Leave him," she says. "He's a friend."
"I'm from beyond the wood." I say. I do not tell them that I came from here, once. "I've run all night."
"What for?" asks the woman. The man's spear is close to my neck still.
"To tell you the Romans are coming. They're camped close by in the valley. I was sent to give you time to run."
"Run now, fight later," says the man. He takes his spear away from my neck. "What kind of people send a boy, alone and unarmed, without shoes on his feet, to warn their neighbours of danger?" he asks. The woman shakes her head and sighs. I feel ashamed.
After that the man put his hand on my shoulder and brought me indoors. His name was Vran. He gave me food and I sat in the warm, eating and drinking, while Vran spoke to the woman. When they went out to wake the village, I slept. I dreamt I had a proper home, where I could sit by the fire and eat when I was hungry. A stupid dream, I thought when I woke up.
Vran came in soon after. "We're going now," he said.
"So am I," I answered.
He looked at me. "I see a boy with nowhere good to go," he said. "I know that look."
That was a long while back. I am at home in Vran's house now - one of the Lake people again. But I still remember running through the dark, and meeting Vran on the causeway.
Reaching For the Stars...
Reaching For The Stars - a book by our own first angkasawan Dr Sheikh Muszaphar Shukor. Actually the book was written by the brother who passed away before Dr Sheikh Muszaphar could come home. The book was a tribute to both of them, two bothers so closed they knew what in each others' thought. It tells the journey of angkasawan in the making, the growing-up years and so on...A short Foreword by our angkasawan, " My journey to space is a tribute to my late younger brother, Ajil, who passed away on October 27 ,2007. Who would have thought that this incident would occur? What a twist of fate ! I was the one facing all the dangers and risks of travelling at 27,000 km/h into space but God took his life instead."
It was a good book, a bit sad but truthful. A must read to all youngster.
Birthday Present....
My second prince sent a birthday present, all the way from Connecticut... how very thoughtful of him !!
True Love ....(Part 3)..
A feeling which is an everlasting emotion, a craving inside that hurts sweetly, unknown loneliness, an experience of sunshine, rain, thunder and tremors all at the same time, a need to belong, desire to make moments and memories for a lifetime, thoughts of togetherness, a hope of eternal happiness, to wish to fly high and touch the sky, escape to paradise, to give, an epoch, gentle breeze, deep ocean, twilight, a tide, enigma, mist, peace, glow, patience, magic, tranquility, a thirsty flower, prayer, withering rose, vibration, compassion, endless flight, blossoming flower, compromise, healing, light, unspoken words, still wind, dreams, secret smiles, tenderness, a wish come true, beautiful silence, echo of a distant voice, a poem, connection, a story, silver stars, imagination, endurance, madness, meaning, inner beauty, strength, chaste, protection, kindness, warmth, tenderness, leisure, belief, care and love. TRUE LOVE.Love is patient and kind; love is not jealous or boastful; it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrong, but rejoices in the right. Love bears all things, believes all things, endures all things, love is never blind; love is beautiful and meaningful; love grows forever; love is strong and is strength; love is warm; love is hope; love is safety; love lasts forever; love is moments of joy; love heals; love is nice; love is important; love is falling again and again but not getting hurt; love is a dream; love is incredible; love is heavenly; love is truth; love is a dream and reality; love is a smile; love is protection; love is togetherness; love never hurts; love is a sweet song;love is yesterday, tomorrow and today; love is the best; love is deep; love is magic; love is gentle; love is tenderness; love is grateful; love is a forever dance; love is fragrance; love is light; love is real;love is promise; love is all.
What is in the Name...
Many people who read my recites (Chain Of Thoughts) queried about the names I use here. Why Sidhiel Jydda?? Nobody would believe a Malay lady with that name?? Why change all the names of my King and my Princes?? The truth is when I decided to recite my thoughts, I was too coward to use my own name, so I disguised...How do I get all those names?? I used name translator of course!!! I love Lord of The Rings so much so I translated all our names into the Ring names... kudo to the internet... so if you guys find that website, you can translate back our Ring names into our real names... Good Luck!!!
True Love...(Part 2)
Does love really exist?? True Love. We're all supposed to want it, along with the good career. I was always pretty much a cynic though. The vast majority of people seem to find someone they can put up with, stick with them so they don't have to go back to being single, then marry because they've been together a while and it seems like the thing to do. And twenty six years back I was in danger of going that way myself.
Then I met my King Liran Andursil, he was someone I'd known a while and always found interesting and cute, but one day in Japan (we were sent to Japan for a three month course) we really opened up to each other and something just clicked. We got together really fine , and frankly this relationship is so pure it's like trying sailing on the smooth water. We both came from big family, he was so humble sometimes leaving wondering were all guys like this??
So I've managed to stumble across the right person for me. I must have been particularly well behaved to his eyes, if not how could he was attracted to me?? I was twenty seven then, considered 'andalusia' by some, but it's really a case of waiting for love. Much as I'd like, I could not just go out there, tag someone and say, "you're It." I met my love through work, but it's just down to luck he became my true love.
True Love...(Part 1)
Two nights ago while waiting for my third prince come back from doing assignment at the college, it was 11 pm when I acciddently switched on channel 122 on ASTRO and watch this Hindustan movie. I do not catch the title as I seldom bother to watch any movie on this channel. The reason being , one they are not in English, second they are normally ancient movies.Anyway, just to pass the time, so I thought, I sat through and watched on... Bit by bit, I became intrigue and found myself glued to the TV. The story was as a usual Hindustani movie, was about a poor middle class girl from a small town, falling in love with a rich boy from a big city. But the interesting part was there was no dancing and very minima singing as in any normal Hindustani movie!! Surprise, surprise!! I was not bored then... Besides the usual boy loved girl, girl so shy to confess her love, I was impressed with the Indian cultures the movie trying to potray. In this modern world I sometimes wonder whether arranged marriage still exist, young man still obey the father's wish to wed him off to the girl he never met but it was a beautiful story, anyway....
I fell in love with the last 1/2 hour of the movie, where the girl burnt herself trying to save her cousin while their house caught fire just one day before her wedding day. In the midst of Indian rich culture and tradition of wedding celebrations, one firework got astrayed and landed on the many boxes of wedding clothes. Of course being a normal dramatic movie, in the chaos of the girl being upset because the aunty did not want to bless her, she fell asleep, woke up when the fire was at its peak. She got out, realised her cousin was still in, rushed in, save the cousin and burnt roof fell on her.
I was impressed with what the doctor told her uncle, forget about the wedding.. no man would want her now... but then the boy when heard about the news, rushed to the hospital, insisted on marrying her there and then, himself signed the consent form, brought in the surgeon from the city and operated on her. It was the true love that I saw, on how he took care of her, be at her side while she recuperated at the hospital, the conversations sometimes were so touching that tears flowed down my cheeks. I found myself wondering again if this kind of love still exists....
Anyway, being the normal, Hindustani movie, the ending was happy, months later when the girl was almost well, there was wedding celebration again, the rich Indian cultures shown. The doctor's last statement being, normally he treated a girl who got burnt because of dowry, and man deserted her but here is man insisted to marry a burnt girl, that what true love is about!!! I LOVE IT!!!
Did I leave any impact.....??
When I left the company I was working after twenty-five years, I wondered if anyone going to miss me. These were the several responses I received when I sent out the good-bye... then I knew I did leave some impacts...- Beribu malah berjuta idea but sepatah pun tak dapat saya coretkan buat Pn.Siedhiel......mungkin ini yg dinamakan sebuah 'kehilangan'.Terima kasih segalanya hanya Allah SWT yg dapat membalas jasa baik Pn.Sidhiel......
- I would also like to thank you for all the times we had together. I appreciate how you work with me, for not instructing me and leaving me to work alone. I hope that you remember me with fondness and will contact me now and then.
- I would say thank you and thank you for all your support & kindness towards me during my early months with the company. You have guided me so much towards fulfilling my duties.
- It has been almost 30 years that we have known each other since Jun 76 I suppose. You have been very kind to me. Lend me warm clothing for my first trip oversea, Offer me an accomodation at your relative's place when I have nowhere to turn to, Guide an assist me whenever I need it, A lot more which I am not good at expressing it.
- Whatever it is, I am going to miss you and I do pray that you will do better and be more happy after you have all the time for yourself and family. Please keep in touch.
- It is sad indeed to know that you will be leaving us. However, it is a consolation knowing that this decision you have chosen must be the best for you. Wishing you all the best in all your future undertakings and may your dreams come true. Please do keep in touch.
-
Assalamualaikum,
amboi...panjangnya pantun dan puisi..saya pun macam tu puan sidhiel. kalau ada tersalah laku, tersilap bahasa, terhutang ke harap maafkan dan halalkan. puan sidhiel satu-satunya veteran company yang saya tidak kekok untuk berkawan despite perbezaan pangkat dan umur. puan very positive mind and humble orangnya. You have been very good friend of mine. semuga puan dipanjangkan umur dan dimurah rezeki. salah satu cita-cita saya ialah retire young, retire rich macam puan sidhiel. supaya kita ada masa dan keupayaan untuk beribadat, berbakti kepada masyarakat dan berehat gracefully.
An unexpected Present...
Last evening my third prince, Liran Galendil, shyly handed me a CK paper bag saying belated present mama... I looked inside the ,, wow .. a white CK purse!!! Really unexpected, from him most of all.. I guess he overheard I have been mumbling about replacing my existing over-used purse. But most surprise of all I did not expect to get one from him... thank you my son.. I really appreciate it... and secretly I know he will be asking additional allowance to cover-up the expenses on this present.. heh..heh..
Princes Around Me....
Me - I am a Queen mother, Sidhiel JyddaMy King Liran Andursil passed away in 1999, short of about 50 days into a new millenium. We had 17 lovely years together. Within ten years of marriage we have four wonderful handsome princes.
Prince No. 1 - Liran Glinus
Prince No. 2 - Liran Gwanyc
Prince No. 3 - Liran Galendil
Prince No. 4 - Liran Glomli
When the princes were young, they used to call me Liran Mama, after all their names and their father's name begin with Liran. I love my princes with all my heart. After their father has gone, they are all I have... and they know it.
My Birthday....
6th March, 6 pm, my No. 1 prince Liran Glinus came in with a big smile, a box in hand, with No. 4 prince Liran Glomli in tow, both of them smiling. I was watching TV, berita jam 6, hot with soon to be election news. With great 'aksi' he opened the box and wow..... 49 cupcakes!!! The middle 18 with the alphabets HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAMA! Heii.. I said I am 53, not 49 , but then No. 1 said tak muat kotak mama..Soon my bedroom became a celebration centre, delicious cupcakes gone one by one. Honestly I only ate two of them ,one because they are too beautiful, second they are on the sweet side. No.4 prince gulped most of them.. Called No.3 prince Liran Galendil, on the handphone, we are going out for dinner. Hmm.. I miss my No. 2 prince Liran Gwanyc, sob sob...he is so far away, in USA. He did emailed wishing me happy birthday yesterday though. Thank you my princes, I do love you all...
Make a short film for Tokyo trip
Hmm, I got an opportunity to go to Tokyo in June. Problem is I have to come up with a short film idea to participate for the event in tokyo. Not my forte anyway of storytelling. Have to comeup with some plesant idea. Ask wife tonight :)
Saying Goodbye....
On 18th April 2005, twelve days before I left the company I was working for 25 years, I wrote this email to almost all my dearest friends...
Dearest all,
Another eleven more days before I have to hand-over ;
1) Kad Pas Keselamatan Pekerja XX
2) Buku Terma & Syarat Perkhidmatan
3) Buku Perjanjian Bersama
4) Kunci Kenderaan syarikat
5) Komputer Bimbit
6) Telefon Bimbit
7) Alat faksimili, etc... etc....
After over twenty-five years in XXXXXXX
I have been very fortunate, because of the nature of my responsibilities, to have been able to work closely with staff in all areas of the company - management, non-managementc, executives, non-executives, support and operational groups. I have been privileged to know many marvellous staff and I have enjoyed working 'behind the scenes', helping staff with sometimes coping with the new changes the company introduced. I have valued very much indeed the friendship shown to me by colleagues, past and present. Through this email I would like very much to thank everyone for the help and tremendous support that has been given to me over the years. - I know that without this support I would have found it difficult at times to do my work.
A very special 'thank you' to everyone for their great kindness to me and my very best wishes to everyone for a happy and peaceful future.'
For all the times you made me smile, thank you.
For all the times you held my hand, thank you.
For all the times you smiled at me, thank you.
For all the times you listened to me when no one else would, thank you.
For all the times you encouraged me, thank you.
For all the times you hugged me, thank you.
For all the times you shared a part of yourself with me, thank you.
For all the times you kissed me on the cheek, thank you.
For all the times you gave me a ride somewhere, thank you.
For all the times you asked to spend time with me, thank you.
For all the times you trusted me, thank you.
For all the times you complimented me, thank you.
For all the times you cared about my well being, thank you.
For all the times you said "hey.. that's a beautiful baju", thank you.
For all the times you thought of me, thank you.
For all the times you brought me joy, thank you.
For all the times you were there when I needed you, thank you.
For all the times you missed me, thank you.
For all the times you gave me comfort, thank you.
For all the times you looked at my works and said that's a great job, thank you.
For all of this:
Never forget that when I smile at you, I'm saying "You are a great person "
Never forget that my hand is always outstretched toward you.
Never forget that I am always here to listen to you.
Never forget that I will always stand behind you.
Never forget that I am an open book to you.
Never forget that you need only ask me for anything, and it's yours.
Never forget that I want to spend time with you.
Never forget that I completely trust you.
Never forget that I think you are the most beautiful person in the world.
Never forget that I do appreciate you, whether I say it or not.
Never forget that I'm thinking of you right now.
Never forget that you bring me joy, especially when you smile.
Never forget that I am always here for you.
Never forget that I missed you to.
Never forget that I am here anytime you need comforting.
First Memory....
Ever wonder what is your first memory?? I mean the earliest memory of childhood that you can remember...I have so many memories of my childhood that I do not know which one was earliest, one rolled into the other like rewinding your tapes, not knowing which part is the beginning, which part the middle and so on.. But whatever I remember of my childhood were the happy ones, none too scarry or maybe my young mind blocked all the unhappy ones. Some people says when trauma comes our mind (especially the young ones) block it to protect us.
Amongst my earliest memories, I remember playing in the flood water in our house compound in Dungun, Trengganu. I must be two or three at that time, as my parents were teachers posted to Dungun in the fifties. I remember my abah put me in a big plastic 'besen' and push it in the water, me squelling with laughter. My other memory was also in Dungun, in the same rented house's compund, our nek (my ummie's maid) washing the clothes by the telaga, and me bathing naked. Then I remember finding a chicken egg under the house, me and ummie broke the egg and found two egg yolks inside... As I said earlier I do not know the sequence of event and mysteriously I do not know why these images are still strong in my head after all these years...One thing for sure, these memories are in black and white!!!
Centuries of Stories - 1st. Century
Many years ago, I can't exactly remember when, maybe just after the millenium, as we turn into the 21st century second prince gave me this book titled Centuries of Stories. He said, "Mama you should read this".Old curiousity shop, that's me, I slowly turn the pages. It is a book of collection of 20 stories of 20 centuries. It enthralled me.., written in story-telling like, the language simple enough for children and adults alike. The stories are wide-ranging in subject, style, time and place, sort of sense of history as well as a taste of power of storytelling!!
I will try to "tell" you all the stories here..............
IN ANCIENT TIME......by Micheal Morpurgo.When I was young we heard it often, all of us in the village did, but whenever the old man began his story again, we listened rapt all the same. He was blind in his last years, but every time he told the story his eyes blazed as if he was seeing it happen in front of him as he spoke. he finished always with the same words. "See! He is here! He is here with us now." And he would point over our heads into the smoky darkness beyond the fire. Time and again I would find myself turning round to look, and I wasn't the only one.
Like the wind through the trees before the rain, we always knew when the story was coming. He would wait for a silence around the fire, lean forward warming his hand, and begin.
In ancient time before any of you were even born, I was a young man. No cursed Roman soldier had yet set foot in this land of ours. We were not then a beaten people. We were wild perhaps, quarrelsome certainly, but we were our own people.
My mother died in giving birth to me, and my beloved father fed me, taught me and protected me. Wheerever I went I walked in his foot steps. He was a god to me. Then one day. whilst I was still only a small boy, he went off hunting intp the forest with his brother my uncle, and did not return. He had been attacked by a bear and taken off. Not a bone was ever found of him. That was what they told me.
My uncle, who had no children of his own, took me in, and at once treated me as his slave. I gathered his firewood for him. I set his traps. I skinned his derr. I ground his corn. He was a giant of a man with arms like tree trunks, and the neck of a bull, and he had a raging temper too. It was not until I was nearly a man myself that I at last found the courage to stand up to him, to protest at how I had been used all these years.
"You whining wretch," he cried. "Have I not fed you, clothed you, kept you warm through the winters?" And in his fury he took a great staff and beat me to the ground. Blow upon blow he rained down on me. I curled up like a hedgehog to protect myself. I would have stayed there cowering in the dirt. But as he struck me he began to shout at me, a vicious curse with each blow, with each kick. And then after the curses came these terrible words:"I killed your miserable father, kicked him to death in the woods till there was no breath left in him. Like you, he too turned on me, and enraged me. Like this i killed him, and this, and then left him to the bears and the wolves. So I will leave you. Your blood shall join his blood."
Vengeance gave me all the strength I needed. With a scream of anger, I rose and tore the staff from his grasp. I struck him about the body, about the head, until he fell on his knees and begged me to stop. But I did not stop until he was stretch out lifeless at my feet. I ran and then, stumbling into the forest, knowing full well that after what I had done I would never see my childhood friends again, nor ever return to my village; that I would wander an outcast for ever, alone all my life, a killer man, a cursed man.
I went west towards the setting sun, and after many weeks, found myself high on a windswept moor, in amongst the sacred mounds where great chieftains lie buried, the sea about me on both sides. It was a darkening winter's evening. The howling cold bit into my bones and froze my spirits. For some days I had had a little or nothing to eat, and no shelter either. I was a lost man, filled with remorse at my terrible crime, with nowhere to lay my head, no one to comfort me. I was no hope, no end to my suffering. I wandered wailing in my misery through the high bracken that whipped me about the face and the grasping gorse that ripped at my clothes and at my flesh beneath, until at last I came to the edge of a towering cliff with the sea surging far below me. Here, I thought, here I shall end my life for it is not worth the living. I would be resolute. I would be brave. I stepped forward, but found that I could not jump, that my legs would simply not obey me.
I felt a sudden hand on my shoulder.
"Friend," said a voice. I turned.
He was a man still young, but older than I was, taller too and with darker skin. He had eyes that looked into my very soul. "Come," he said, and putting his arm around my shoulders, he led me away from the cliff edge. I found I had neither the will nor the power to resist him.
"You need food. You need warmth. You shall stay with my uncle and me, he said. "We live close by. It's not much of a place to live, but it is out of the rain, out of the mists. We have a warming fire and there'll be food enough and plenty for another one. Come."
So they took me in. He called himself Jesus of Nazareth, and his old uncle I came to know as Joseph of Arithmathea. I had heard of neither place. They were travellers, they told me, who had come from an eastern land across the sea. They had come as far west as they could and were working in a tin mine nearby. It would be hard work, they said, but they could always do with help, with another strong back, another pair of hands. So, for a winter, spring and a summer, the three of us lived together, and side by side hammered and hewed in the tin mine. My spirits were restored and my strength too. I lacked for nothing: food, water, shelter, and most welcome of all, human companionship.
There was often silence between us, but it was the silence of friends at ease with one another. Jesus and Joseph seemed often deep in meditation and prayer, and more and more I found myself drawn into their ways. When they did talk they spoke of such wonders, such places and people as I could never have imagined. From them I first heard of the Romans, who already ruled their country and much of the rest of the world too it seemed. It was a rare and wonderful thing, they said, to come to a place where the Romans di not rule. They had been as far east as they had west on a great voyage of discovery. They talked of mountains as high as the sky itself, of great temples in the clouds of the east, of wise men and visionaries they had encountered in their travels. But most often they told me of their God, a god so powerful that he would one day prove stronger than even the mighty Romans themselves, and yet at the same time a merciful god who loved and forgave us when we did wrong.
I listened in wonder to all this - Jesus was a man I had to listen to, I wanted to listen to - and in time I began to ask questions, for there was much I did not understand. "Who is this god you speak of? Where is he? Where will I find him?"
"He is in me." Jesus replied. "Heis in my uncle Joseph, and he is in you too. He is in all of us, if we want hinm to be."
In all this time neither Jesus nor his uncle Joseph ever asked why I had come there or how it was that I had been found in so wretched a state, ready even to kill myself.
WE were sitting silent around the fire one autumn evening. I was filled with remorse, as I always was when contemplating my dreadful crime. I looked up and found them both watching me. There was no accusation in their eyes, only tenderness, an understanding that moved me at last to speak out and tell them my story. When I had done, Jesus reched out and put his hand on mine.
"Go home where you belong," he said. "Your uncle lives. I tell you he is not dead." He spoke with such certainty. "We will go together, for the time has come when my uncle and I too must go home where we belong. We have wandered long enough in this wilderness. I have God's work to do, and I must wait no longer."
So early one morning with the autumn mists still shrouding the valleys we set off together. The closer we came to my village the more I worried how I might be received, and the more I began to doubt Jesus' assurance that I would find my uncle was still alive. We parted by the river below the village, in the shadow of the great alder trees where the salmon lie low in the pools. I was fearful, and reluctant to leave my companions. I urged them to accompany me into my village.
"Go on alone," Jesus whispered as he embraced me. "All shall be well."
"If ever you need us, come to Palestine. You will find us easily enough,: Said Joseph. and they left me to find my own way.
It was as Jesus had said. My uncle was indeed alive. More than that, he was a changed man, utterly changed. He fell on his knee at once, begging me for forgiveness before the whole village. I could see that he meant it, that all the fury and cruelty had gone out of him. I forgave him readily, knowing only too well what agony of remorse he had been through. There was great feasting and rejoicing that night, for I had long been supposed dead.
But despite all my uncle's kindness to me - he treated me with great affection after my return, like a long lost son - I found myself restless, no longer content to stay all my life in my village. I longed to go to Palestine, to be with Jesus and Joseph again. So after only three summers at home I set off on my own voyage of discovery. I travelled over the sea into Gaul, to Rome itself, then by ship again to Egypt and across the desert at last to Palestine.
The closer I came the more I heard of Jesus of Nazareth, how his words touched the hearts of the people, of the poor and the downtrodden, how he had given hope where there was none. Some said he made miracles. Some were calling him "the Messiah". Some said he would set them free and drive the Romans from their land forever. He was on his way to Jerusalem they said.
So I went at once to Jerusalem to meet him. There were very few people about. I asked after him in the market place. They just laughed at me and told me I had better hurry.
"Why?" I asked.
"Why do you think there's hardly anyone here in the market? Always the same when they crucify someone - half the city goes to watch - ruins our trade. It's all his fault, that Jesus of Nazareth. It's him they're crucifying, him and a couple of thieves."
"Where?" I could scarcely find my voice.
"Golgotha," they told me and pointed up the hill. "Outside the city walls. Just follow the crowd."
So I did. I joined the surge of the crowd as they packed the narrow streets, pushing and jostling my way through until at last I found him. He was staggering under the weight of his cross, Roman guards whipping him on like a donkey as he went. Someone had pressed a cruel crown of thorns on to his head and his face was running with blood.
Our eyes met, and he knew me at once. He smiled through his pain. "All shall be well, friend," he said. Swept along by the crowd, I followed. I was there when they nailed him to his cross and raised hin high. Those same accused Romans that now infest every corner of our land stood there and mocked him in his agony. But Jesus shouted no curses at them. He simply said:
"Father, forgive them. Father, forgive them. "
He took all night to die. In the cold grey of dawn as I sat huddled under my cloak, my eyes filled with tears of anger, tears of grief, I felt a hand on my shoulder.
"Come, friend, we have seen enough. Come away."
It was his uncle Joseph, Joseph of Arimathea. We left Jerusalem that same morning. It was not safe to stay. Everyone of Jesus' friends was being sought out and hunted down. In fear of our lives we moved on from village to village, travelling only by night, and hiding by day.
One day, hiding out in the dark depths of a mountain cave, he showed me the cup for the first time. "This cup", he told me, "is the very cup Jesus drank from at the last supper he ate with his friends. I shall hide it somewhere where it will be safe, safe forever."
Joseph was very old and frail by now, and I knew that he could not keep running for much longer.
"Let's go home Joseph," I said, "Let's go back to my land, my village. There are no Roman there. We'll be safe. The cup will be safe."
He was too exhausted to argue. The journey home was long and arduous, so it was nearly winter before we came home at last. And for one short autumn we lived here together, Joseph and I, in my uncle's house. Never a day went by that we did not speak of Jesus. We drank from his cup every evening at supper = it was one way we could feel close to him. To both of us the world seemed such an empty place without him
Sometimes Joseph liked to walk up the Tor at Glastonbury to watch the sunset. He found the climb hard, and often had to lean heavily on his staff. We were up there at the top one evening as the world went dark around us.
"Bury me here on this hill, friend," he said, "with Jesus' cup beside me. Here is here with us now. Can you feel him?" and I could. I could.
When the time came, I did as he had asked me. I laid him in the soft earth of Glastonbury Tor, set the cup from the last supper in his hands and filled his grave. As I walked away, I drove his staff into the ground and left it there.
I did not go back until the snows came. At the very place I had left his staff there now grew a hawthorn tree, covered in white blossom. It is still there to this day. Blind as I am, I can see it now, as I can see Jesus. See! Here is here! He is with us now.
The old man died many long years ago, and I myself am now as old as he was. The Roman are still here, but one day they will be gone and we shall be our own people again. The hawthorn tree still blossoms on Glastonbury Tor in the depths of every winter, and rest assured, it always will. Now it is I who sit by the fire and tell the old man's story to the young ones. Each time I tell it, I feel as if I am passing on something precious, more precious even than the cup that still lies buried somewhere on Glastonbury Tor.
If Only I Knew...
In 1999, a few days or weeks after my best friend, the father of my four princes passed away I found this poem. It spoke of my sadness at the time, I copied it, pasted on the wall of my room in the office, reminded myself again and again of how short life is.....IF ONLY I KNEW
If I knew it would be the last time
that I'd see you fall asleep
I would tuck you in more tightly
and pray to Allah, your soul to keep
If I knew it would be the last time
that I see you walk out the door
I would give you a hug and kiss
and call you back for one more
If I knew it would be the last time
I'd hear your voice lifted up in praise
I would video tape each action and word
so I could play them back day after day
If I knew it would be the last time
I could spare an extra minute or two
to stop and say I love you
instead of assuming you would know I do
If I knew it would be the last time
I would be there to share your day
well I'm sure you'll have so many more
so I can let just this one slip away.
For surely there's always tomorrow
to make up for an oversight
and we always get a second chance
to make everything right
There will always be another day
to say our I love you's
and certainly there's another chance
to say our "Anything I can do?"
But just in case I might be wrong
and today is all I get
I'd like to say how much I love you
and I hope we never forget
Tomorrow is not promised to anyone
young or old alike
And today may be the last chance you get
to hold your loved one tight....
So if you're waiting for tomorrow
why not do it today?
For if tomorrow never comes
you'll surely regret the day
That you didn't take that extra time
for a smile, a hug, or a kiss
and you were too busy to grant someone
what turned out to be their one last wish
So hold your loved ones close today
whisper in their ear
Tell them how much you love them
and that you'll always hold them dear
Take time to say, "I am sorry, please forgive me,"
"thank you", or "it's okay"
And if tomorrow never comes
you'll have no regrets about today.
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