Gurindam , the Weed, the Rice and the Lemongrass - The Nature of Love and Her Sweet Responsibilities

Love's Gentle Feint
It was overcast I said in the morning. And it was.
Later the wind blew the clouds away, and I thought… oh no, a sunny (hot) day!
But in the afternoon the rain came, with lightning and thunder.
So I bared my shoulder
As the Prophet once did,
And I danced in the rain,
The dervish in rapture
To Love’s intimacy
And gentle feint.

GURINDAM, THE WEED, THE RICE AND THE LEMONGRASS. My last story (which I can recall) of Gurindam and his traditional Malay lore concerns the weed, the rice and the lemongrass.

“When these three plants are just a few days old, it is hard to distinguish them apart. They look exactly alike!” said Gurindam. "So you need to get close to the ground and feel them. The leaf of the weed is coarse to the touch, so you can rule the weed out. But then you find that both the rice and lemongrass is soft. Now you need to get even closer and smell them. You will find that the rice sapling has no scent, but the lemongrass has that familiar tangy lemongrass aroma.” Then he smiled at me. “So you see, when you are in a position of responsibility (he was an ancient Planter, the boss of bosses of the palm oil estates, bearing the title of Chief Operating Officer), you cannot rely on hearsay and judge from a distant. You must go to the ground, examine the matter firsthand. If need be, you need to get on your hands and knees and taste the salinity of the trench canals which cuts across the estate like a city block grid.”

DUE DILIGENCE. He is right of course. In everything which we do, whether it is to bestow privilege or largesse or to withdraw entitlements, we need to get dirty on our hands and knees, and to run our hands through the soil of the human soul. We cannot know for certain of course, but we need to apply some basic diligence because let’s be frank here - People are often reticent and shy even if they are not overtly deceptive. They are just reluctant about revealing the relevant truths, and will hide the real source of their problem(s).

IT IS ALL ABOUT LOVE. Hehehe. It cuts against the grain does it not? Talking about management in this little almanac. After all, talking about responsibilities, rights and obligations appear to be anathema to our mystical credentials of ‘just letting go’ and ‘going with God’s flow’. But it isn’t really, in fact sometimes it is the essence of Love. After all… as the sinner once ruefully noted…

Jika (If)
Jika kamu tidak ingin
Berjabat tangan
Dengan kesabaran,
Usahlah kamu katakan
Yang kamu mencintaiku,

Jika kamu tidak ingin
Berkenalan dengan
Tanggungjawab,
Mengapakah
Kamu katakan,
Yang diri ini,
Kamu kasihi?

Translation:
If you do not desire
To befriend patience,
Do not say unto me
That you love me.

If you do not wish
To make acquaintance
With responsibilities,
Then why, pray tell,
Do you say that,
It is I,
Whom you truly love?

So you see? It is all about love after all. Just like a good Sufi would say. If you find one tell me. After all, sinners are what Sufis are made for.

Have a nice Sunday, pet.

Pax Taufiqa.

Man in the Jungle, Swiftlets in Hotels - Pictures tell Stories

From 10,000 feet in the air, the hinterlands of Sarawak is all green, with rivers and streams cutting through its vast, vast expanse. The sinner has been awake since before 5am, and he is tired already. And the day hasn't even started properly! Oh dear...
Then suddenly, the city of Sibu materialises itself amidst the rainforest. I didn't know this, but this is as close as I will ever get to the city. Or to any city, come to think of it!

Landed! Safe and sound. There is nothing like air-travel to make you feel closer to your mortality! Wuu HUU!

The gritty, rugged and tough estate managers. It is a hard, hard life with hard, hard work on a daily basis for these men. They are responsible for the welfare of hundreds of workers and milions of dollars in investments, and it is no walk in the park.

The vast horizon of the estate wearies my eyes, so used as I am to the short, stunted views of urban life. It rained a little in the evening.

With roads built of solid granite quarried from the earth...

... You would need transportation like these. But even on these pick-ups, the journey was less of a drive, and more of being tumbled about in a washing machine. I was bouncing all over the place. "Oh, you should have been here, before we had these road paved with granite. It was even worse!", said Ariffin. "My head was hitting the roof of the car!"

These strange monolith structures dot the countryside of Sibu. They are bird-hotels and built to intice swiftlets to nest and roost there. The birds' nests are then 'harvested' for local consumption but mostly for export to mainland China and the teeming Chinese diaspora all over the globe. Such is the demand for these aviary delicacy that there is a small hotel which was converted into a bird-hotel. Apparently, hosting swiftlets is more profitable than human guests.

In the second estate, we could see small bunches of palm oil fruit by the roadside. These are the preliminary harvesting which they call 'scout harvesting'. Scout harvesting is intended to pluck the first fruits from a young tree. The quantity is very small, but it is still necessary because if left to rot on the tree, it may cause all sorts of fungal problems to the young plant.

Scratched upon a palm stalk is the number of the lot or grid from which the scout harvests were picked. It is a poignant symbol of the difficulty and hardship faced by these men who are planting and scratching for wealth from the fertile peat soil of this locality. From a plant that is not even originally from this region (oil palm is indigenous to Africa).

Have a lovely day, sunshine. I still have one more day here.

Pax Taufiqa.