The One with the Hand of Water

It rained quite heavily when I was in school today. Sudden pour which didn't last for long. Happens pretty often. But it was not until today that I noticed how, when it rains, a place, an object, a person, anything - would look as if they are further away compared to days when sunshine decides to watch over us closely. I have always noticed the tranquil and sense of calmness that rainfall brings, but never this. Yet, despite the distance, that place, that object, that person, that something - feels more welcoming, warmer. (This gets me thinking - are romantic scenes more romantic when that couple who have braved all odds are finally able to share love's unification under the blessings of the One with the Hand of Water? Compare that to the One with the Hand of Rays. But I'm referring specifically to movie-making here. Life has so much to offer in every beautiful location, each in its own distinct way.)

I failed to do one thing today, though. I failed to look up after rainfall decided to shower upon another land. I simply forgot. Perhaps "forgot" is an understatement. I didn't bother to. I simply didn't bother admiring the beauty that was left behind. Perhaps I need to post a note in my books - LOOK UP. THE ONE WITH THE HAND OF WATER WOULD APPRECIATE IT. In fact, I failed to realise (not until now) how I managed to cross the street so easily when school ended today (rain droplets took the place of rainfall). So much for the Dawn of Realisation at school.

Here's an apology to the one I owe my glance:

Mighty waters,
Giving fullness,
Feeding one,
To feed all ones.

Subtle traces,
You leave behind,
Non-glancing faces,
Yet you never mind.

Salutations to the One with the Hand of Water,
Look up.

Peristalsis

One can be taught but never learn. One can learn although never been taught.

It's refreshing to wonder how the clockworks of life functions at times. If I were to create an analogy to it, I would love to synonymise life as a peristalsis. A continuous wave-like motion which transports the food we consume into our stomachs through the oesophagus. Similarly, I would like to think of life as a motion which just keeps going, pushing down, or rather, taking in whatever that comes along the way, good or bad, which would finally (or not finally) take its path to what would be our future (which, in the case of peristalsis, is what we defaecate).

It's the Raya holidays and nothing much has been happening. But perhaps it is because nothing much has been happening that I actually am able to reflect upon the days which have passed "nothingly". Here's what I recall doing during the past few days:
- Supported my popo by holding her hand (and a teeny weeny bit of pride actually came upon me while walking through the narrow lanes of the morning market).
- Brought an insect (I still don't know what it is called) out of a puddle of water (it is a puddle for the insect, but just a drop for us humans) in which it got its wings stuck in. Perhaps it was my imagination but I thought it actually climbed up to my finger instantaneously.
- Made the decision to sit in the front passenger's seat during one of the journeys to Kulim, Kedah. Apart from the fact that I managed to entertain my brother who was driving through the crawling traffic, I stayed up to actually take notice of all that was happening outside the comfortable confines of the car I was in.
- Accompanied Rocky (a pet dog in popo's house) for a little while and opened a door for it to go to the front porch of the house when it stood up very suddenly.
- Blamed my brother (for the feeblest reason of all reasons) for having to wait quite a while at a hawker's centre, only for "Yi Poh Nga Choi Kai" and some "Kuai Tiu" which was apparently very delicious (which it is).

That's pretty much all I can recall at this particular moment in time, but here's my point.
Simple deeds, good or bad, make us learn. At least, I learned. What I have learned, it's not exactly something that I can just rest my finger on (which is why I didn't include any "moral of the story" in the above list). It was like coming to that one tiny hole which opens up to the small things that make up part of life's one big thing. Ones that make up One. I was not taught per se, but there was a teacher all along. Perhaps life itself is the teacher. If that is so, then we are our own teachers. How wonderful it is to have the freedom to mark our own assignments and to judge our own work! In my case, simple deeds was the teacher and I was privileged to be its humble student.

In the name of peristalsis,
Cheers. =)

The Here & Now Named Beginning

The weight of silence envelopes like a blanket.
Good, quiet silence.

Then emerges the soft laughter of triads.

Tickling triads - we now begin.