Friday, September 29, 2006
9:51 PM /
0 comments
todae is fridae...actualli wan go sch todae de...but cannnot wak up in time so nve go...at hm ply my ps2 game...den around 1230 bao n cardi come my hse...den slack til 1++ den cardi go hm...bao sae jb they all at 824..so go find them...go hm at 2++ den ply com...watch tv til nw...todae dun feel lik study...dunno y also...nt in e mood 4 studyin...
i miss u alot...
hope dat my life wun be a trash nw...
Sunday, September 24, 2006
9:04 PM /
0 comments
todae is sundae...v sian cos i didn't get any msg...so sad...at hm doin nth til evenin time go eat dinner wid my parent...den reach hm bout 7+..watch tv til 830...den slack awhile den on com...den nth to do so come blog..
i waited for ur msg so long but u nve did reply mi....
Saturday, September 23, 2006
4:53 PM /
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todae is saturdae...cannot go out cos mus look after my younger bro...hai at hm so sian...nth to do de...wish i can go out n enjoy...
im jus being left out by someone...hai...
Friday, September 22, 2006
5:08 PM /
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todae is fridae...feel so sick so nve go sch...slp til quite late de..around 10+...den around 11+ JB cal mi den go 824 eat...den 1230 reach hm...den JB ming n bao come my hse..
todae at hm look after my younger bro if nt go out wid jb they all..so sad...den ply game at hm...
at last my hm got refrigerator le...lol...
miss u so much
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
9:44 PM /
0 comments
dunno wad to blog le lei...everydae is sian lo...hai...den u keep nve reply my msg...more sian..
den nw plyin e 'battleon' i played b4 2yrs ago but everytime server full nw dunno y can ply le...den nth do le lo...
i miss u
Sunday, September 17, 2006
8:57 PM /
0 comments
todae is sundae...wak up at 9+ den go out wid whole family...go harbour front there shoppin...dunno e shoppin mall cal wat...den bought one mouse for myself...den after that go jurong east de shoppin mall shop til bout 4+ den go kembangan eat dinner...e food was so nice lo feel lik eatin n eatin again lo...
den around 640pm reach hm...do nth for awhile den watch tv...'ai qing mo fa shi' sad tig happen in e show...aniway qy there is sumtig i wan to tell u e chara cal xiao bei de...look alike to u sia lol... so funny..haha...ok den after finish e show go bath den nw here le...lol...
i miss u
Thursday, September 14, 2006
9:36 PM /
0 comments
todae nve go sch again...at hm slp til v late...
todae jb, ah ming, yan, bao, sen, vin come my hse...use my come go see hard gay(HG) nb...den i ply my ps2 game...den they also use my bro com ply CS...den watch tv together i wish to hav this kind of life everydae cos it feel so gd...
den watch "tian long ba bu"...nice lo...fighting show lai de...lol...den around 4+ they go hm le...i so sian...y u nve reply my msg so many time de...sad...nw ply alot online game...'kingsofchaos' 'bots2' n 'utopia'...all ply from scratch...
i miss u...when wil we b toghther...
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
8:44 PM /
0 comments
todae nve go sch...at hm v sian...cos forget to wash uni so nve go sch...at hm ply game lo...maple for awhile den ply my PS2 game...
whole afternoon nth to do!!!sian...
im fat le -_-!!! ...mus exercise le...:(
Saturday, September 09, 2006
7:56 PM /
0 comments
todae v sian miss her so much...wish i cld see her nw...hai...at hm also nth to do...so sian...den nw watchin tv v sian...todae dun tell story,todae ask lame jk..
a rabbit and a fast-runnin tortise hav a race...hu wil win...tag mi to get ans...tmr got another Qn...
bb....miss u...always...
Friday, September 08, 2006
7:14 PM /
0 comments
todae dun tell story v long to writ out...waste tim also...but i wil blog my happenin todae n ytd...ytd go e EXPO food fair quite fun saw dat banana at there being a slave...lol...funny sia...den come back around 9+...den at inter saw my mother..she noe i smoke le...sad...tik it time for mi to quit smokin le...hai...
todae wak up at around 11+ but den slp again...til 1+ den wak up lo...hai todae also nth to do...at hm ply my 'shinobino'(PS2) game...den til nw update blog...den watch tv lo...my live seems so sianx de hor...
Eventually, I had to leave Mersing to attend university in Kuala Lumpur. I took my good luck bottle with me.
I can't remember how it happened, but one day i returned to my dormitory and found the bottle smashed on the floor. The little ship inside had vanished. I've always suspected that one of my fellow students was respondsible.
That night, quite late as i recalled, i was summoned to the office. My mother was on the telephone, her voice shaking with grief.
"You must come home quickly," she begged. "Bomoh Charles is asking for you..."
"But I don't understand..." I begun.
"Bomoh Charles is dying. You must hurry. He doesn't have long!"
It took me a full day to travel back to my village, switching from bus to taxi, arriving at the old man's house in the evening, as the sky turned a gloomy purple and grey. A crowed was gathered outside. Lanterns burned in the silent dusk. My mother stepped forward and urshered me inside.
There he was, Bomoh Charles, stretched out on a bunk, older than i could ever remember him, his skin drenched with sweat, his eyes feebly searching for mine. The veins on his bony hands were as thick as cords. His touch was weak and clammy. At the sound of my voice, a smile flickered over his deathly face
"The ship is no longer in the bottle, i believe," he croaked
How could he have known, I wondered. And then i shuddered with a fearful realisation. "Is that why you're... like this?" I asked him.
he fixed me with a stern gaze.
"Is that why i'm dying?" he corrected me. "We have always told the truth, you and I." His body convulsed with a rasping coughing.
"I put the ship in there when i faced death, many, many years ago. I was a prisoner of war, and I expected the Japanese to kill me anyday. They had almost killed me with their torture..."
Again his body shook with a coughing spasm. "I had made the ship with little scraps of wood and paper I'd found in the POW camp. It kept me occupied, I suppose. And then i found an old bottle in the prison hospital."
His hand feebly gripped mine.
"The ship was like my life. When it was in the bottle, I was safe. And so were you, when you were that sick little boy I firstr met. I suppose the ship has served its purpose, wouldn't you say? It's out of the bottle, and free to sail anywhere..."
I sat there beside him, listening to is fragile breath as his life ebbed away. His name was Charles Thomson, or was it Thomkins, his words had become so slurred.
He was a British doctor, that's how he'd known so much about medicine and first aid. After the war, his body broken by his Japanese tornentors, he had been unable to find work in England. So he had returned to Malaya, as it was then called, and worked in a hospital. But the work taxed his weak physique.
When he contracted a bout of fever, he had been taken to a Bomoh with whom he become good friends. A few weeks later, When the Bomoh himself had almost died from a heart attack, he had nursed his friend back to health. In return, the Bomoh had shared secrets with Charles.
"It seemed the most natural thing in the world to become a bomoh myself," the old man gasped. "So I stayed in the village, and when the bomoh died, i took over. With all his knowledge, and with all my training in western medicine, I suppose I did have specal power..."
A contented smile played over his features and his eyes fluttered. Suddenly he grasped my hand.
"You won't forget me, will you Faizal?"
"Never, I swear." I promised with tears.
A moment later, I reached out and closed his eyes. The shallow breathing had ceased, and the most extrodinary bomoh in all Malaysia had gone to his rest.
-=STORY ENDED=-
when i was growing up in Mersing, a town on the east coast of Johor, my parents would visit a bomoh ever so often. This was decades ago and my parents have long passes on, but i'll never forget their reliance on the bomoh. Whenever a family member fell ill or wnehever my parents suspected that a curse had been place on them, they would always turn to the bomoh for help.
I had barely turned six when they first took me to him. I was a sickly, very skinny child and had been suffering frequent attacks of asthma.
His house was an old, rambling attap structure hidden in the midst of a lush garden filled with jackfruit, rambutan, mango, banana and coconut trees. There were clusters of hibiscus plants and sugar cane. Chickens and ducks, and a few goats, roamed freely.
Imagine my surprise when i struggled up the steps to the verandah and discovered an elderly white man greeting us with a kindly smile.
"This is Bomoh Charles," my mother announced. "He's the most powerful Bomoh in malaysia."
I looked at the stooped orang puteh with the friendly eyes and snowy white hair. He looked anything but a powerful bomoh! He took my hand in the traditional greeting. His touch was firm, his skin cool, and he moved with dignity and grace.
"Your mother has told me a lot about you," he confided with a wink. "Now, let's see what we can do to help you regain your strength..."
He led me into his tiny parlour, hopelessly cluttered with books, papers, all sorts of herbs, dried roots and bark. He reached foe his spectacles. He asked me about my shortness of breath and how the violent asthma attacks had begun. Whenever i stopped to catch my breath he regarded me with his gentle eyes, never once looking impatient or cross.
After about an hour, he got up and brought my mother to sit with me, while he mixed some herbs. He carefully instructed my mother when I should be given the mixture. Then he stood up and took my hand.
"I think your asthma will be gone soon." he promised me. "But you can come back to visit me whenever you like."
"What, no jampi-jampi?" mother asked.
"I've something better." Bomoh Charles said and crossed to a cupboard and rummaged about inside. When he turned to face us again, he was holding a bottle with a ship inside.
"I spent many hours getting the ship to fit inside," he chuckled. "Let's see if you can get it out again..."
He was a wise old Bomoh! I took to him right away.
I spent hours with that bottle, staring at it, poking inside it with a stick, but the ship never came out. Whenever I felt ill or short of breath, playing with that bottle calmed me down. I kept it for years and years; it was my good luck charm.
Bomoh Charles became a friend and a confidant. He knew our way even if was orang puteh. He was always gentle and considerate.
..::TO BE CONTINUE TOMORROW::..
story has not ended
