Writing in Happiness

I found a friend on Facebook. I had not met him for nearly half a century since the beginning of my teaching career. It immediately evoked very sweet memories of my first teaching post at a kampung (village) secondary school.

I began writing my thoughts of that nostalgic period of my life. It was in Kampung Astana Raja where I was shown so much love and respect. I was treated like one of their own by the kampung folk.

After school hours, I was able to enjoy fishing by the small ponds around the village and the irrigation canals of the rice fields. On weekends, I was invited to rather a lot of wedding kenduris (feasts) where I was able to relish minangkabau (tribal) delicacies. On Hari Raya (Eid), I was showered with lots of local food and cookies by the students.

 This teaching stint was rather short but it was indeed one of the happiest times of my life.

I have discovered writing and the power it holds to transport me anywhere, at anytime, beyond the restriction of my life. I have been able to recall happy times. I have found it to be very cathartic, indeed.

ltbs

Do the thing you believe in. Do the best you can in the place you are and be kind.

Scott Nearing

Dedicated in gratitude and friendship to YAA Tan Sri Mohd Raus Sharif - President of the Court of Appeal, Malaysia. He was one of my former students in Kampung Astana Raja where I was shown so much love and respect. His parents were especially kind to me.

An Angler No More

I used to love fishing. I would travel all over my country to fish. I have fished in the irrigation canals of kampung rice fields, in the ditches of rubber smallholdings, in fish ponds, in large lakes, in disused mining pools or in the sea. I have done deep-sea fishing, too, travelling on simple fishing boats but not on yachts. I have never taken my family on any fishing outings.

However, I took my wife, my son and two daughters to a golf resort which had old mining pools, for fishing some years ago. We stayed in a chalet which was built over water at the edge of an old mining pool. My children used bread as bait while I used live small fish as bait.

My son managed to hook a huge carp while I caught nothing, so in the evening I put out a lot of lines by the edge of the mining pool and from the chalet. Every line had a small fish hooked on its back and hung circling on the surface of the water to attract large predator fish.

I read a book while eagerly waiting to hear the splash of water should a snake-head or other large fish attack the live bait. I waited for quite a while but heard nothing. I only heard my wife and my children telling me that I was being cruel to the small fish. They kept harping on it non-stop and asking me to release them.

Finally, I realized that I was actually being rather cruel so I took in the lines; unhooked the small fish and released them into the water. That was the day that I became imbued with ahimsa  -  the principle of non-injury to living things. I gave up fishing totally from that day onwards.

ltbs

Speak to his heart, and the man becomes suddenly virtuous.
Ralph Waldo Emerson