Rambling on...

“The stream of knowledge is heading toward a non-mechanical reality; the universe begins to look more like a great thought than like a great machine. Mind no longer appears to be an accidental intruder into the realm of matter, we ought rather hail it as the creator and governor of the realm of matter. Get over it, and accept the inarguable conclusion. The universe is immaterial-mental and spiritual.” – R.C. Henry, Professor of Physics and Astronomy at Johns Hopkins University , “The Mental Universe” ; Nature 436:29,2005)"

The day I decided to leave my immediate family sometime in 1970 while living and working in Kuala Terengganu, on the East Coast of he Malay Peninsular, was the day I felt I became a man. I felt like i had unburdened myself of a heavy load of family confine, and expectations, not playing by the rules and various other accusations upon my character which I must admit were mostly true. I was a stubborn, headstrong, easy to explode in anger and incorrigible in just about every worse ways. It was a blessing for all when I left my family and returned to Penang where I was born and raised as a child by my uncle who hyad adopted me since my birth. I felt free from all the heavy judgments being imposed upon me by family and friends alike and I felt like I grew wings and took to the skies. Hence began my life of inner and outer exploration inthe human consciousness, like what it is that makes me tick, what is it the allows me to be bullied or to be the bully, what is it about God or no God, what is it about love and sex! 

22 odd years of my life had passed when I arrived in Georgetown Penang sometime in 1971 and soon got a job with Hagemeyer Trading Company, an old Dutch owned firm for import and export of assorted goods from all over the world. I was hired as a prerequisite that the government had impost upon all private companies to do a fair practice of hiring and firing. I was among the two Malays hired as recommended by a friend from my village. The job threw me among the competitive business world of the Chinese where rivalries occurs as a matter of fact even among employees working for the same company. There were mistrust among all the departments which are all run by Chinese and I became a ping pong ball to be thrown around when the going gets tough. But I survived the ordeal for two years more or less until I met and married my wife who was from the United States on a student exchange program. Two months into our relationship and we had a child on the way and so we got married and started a whole new episode in my life as a father at the age of 25. I was a proud father of a beautiful son whose mother was a Westerner, which at the time was quite an special to say the least. 

Life was not easy for us being married and having a child but living in two different parts of the country where my wife had worked in Shah Alam  and I was employed in Georgetown, Penang. My son, Nazri J. Bahari was born at the Asunta Hospital in Shah Alam, Kuala Lumpur sometime in the morning of the 8th. of April and I was not there to be with both mother and child as the birth was premature. The due date was off by two weeks if I am not mistaken and so I was not prepared when I received the call that same morning from the hospital telling me that I was a father of a baby boy. I was working when I received the call and with a mixture of excitement and trepidation I make all haste to travel to KL that same morning. And so loaded with two suitcases full of baby's stuff which my wife had put together in preparation for the event, I set out on my journey for Asunta Hospital.

It just so happened that on the very same day it was a Memorial day for the Chinese to visit the graves of their ancestors and so there was a wgole lot of traveling happening all over the country and which meant that I was stuck with no transportation to get to my destination. The plane, the train, the taxis the buses were all fully booked except for one texi which would only take me up to the town of Ipoh which was half way to KL.I left Penang late in the afternoon and arrived Ipoh sometime in the evening. Left by the roadside in the rain with two suitcase I felt warm tears flowing down my face, I was scared as it was getting dark and all around me was quiet. I stood under  a street light for quite some tie until a car pulled up and asked me where I was headed.  The driver was an Indian gentleman who told me to get in and we set on our way to KL. He was not much of a talker which I was glad but he told me that I would have to put up with his cassette playing a prayer chant to Lord Ganesha which he plays every time he drove long distance he told me it kept him centered. I had no problem as I am used to listening to Hindu prayers as most of my friends at the time were Indians..

We arrived at the Hospital almost twelve hours later after I received the call announcing my son's arrival into this world and when I was led to my wife's room I saw her on the bed with tears popping out of her eyes and a big smile on her face on seeing me. In all my excitement I never even got to properly thank the gentleman who drove me there from out of the blue and till this day I feel a sense of gratitude whenever I see the image of Lord Ganesha, the savior of those in need while on the road and the protector of children, like Saint Christopher. Yes, I believe I was being watched over and assisted by the higher powers in my times of need and I strongly do. Albeit God or the Universe, or Allah or the Tao or the myriads o Chinese and Indian deities, I know and I feel like there is a helper watching over me, to assist me through my difficult times. The trade off is simply that I keep up with my spiritual practice no matter how little or significant it may be, that I do not forget who I truly am. Till this day I often find myself being aided in one way or another especially when I find myself on the verge of despair or giving up hope. 

I find the need for divine help in whatever form, to be more relevant today for us as a specie as we face an ever increasing hardship in our daily lives. Even if our spiritual understanding has lifted us to the highest level of a state of non-duality or absolute consciousness where nothing else really matters as all are a part and parcel of our divinity, at the level of our present realm of existence, I believe we are still interdependent upon each other in order that we may serve and be served if and when needed to be. To the awakened minds this life may be an illusion or even non-existent, but to a Bodhisattva this life is a field of servitude where helping others become free from suffering of any form is the Dharma practice. We call them angels, we call them friendly spirits, we call them deities and some we even call Gods, but by whatever name they are called, these are our spiritual guides and assistants, our Dharma friends and invisible playmates. They need us as much as we need them but it is up to us to be resonant to the inter- connection of this relationship. All I had left while standing in the drizzling rain under the street lamp with two suitcases full of baby stuff on that fateful twilight time in the town of Ipoh, was a prayer and it was answered.