Retro: Facing Fear in the Night _ Kampung Lintang -2012

 

Facing Fear in the Night

One of the lingering questions I’ve struggled with in my journey of self-discovery has been around fear. What is fear? What makes a man, seemingly in control of his faculties, suddenly shudder to the core, or—to put it bluntly—shit his pants? What makes the blood run cold, the hairs on the back of your neck rise like a disturbed porcupine?

What paralyzes us when we most need to act—when justice calls, when wrongs cry out to be righted? Why do we remain silent while atrocities unfold across the world—in Gaza, Palestine, and Yemen? Why do we tolerate corruption, repression, and moral bankruptcy in our own country? The answer may be rooted in fear. We’re afraid of consequences. Afraid of losing what little we have. Afraid of standing alone. We’re afraid of being made to account for our own conscience.

About a week ago—on my birthday, the 12th of August—I had an intimate brush with fear that left a lasting mark. I was staying alone in a hut nestled at the edge of the jungle near Kampong Lintang, where the SRI LOVELY Organic Farm is located. It was the early hours of the morning, around 3 a.m., and I had been asleep when I was jolted awake by the sound of fruits falling on the thatched roof. The hut sits beneath a large langsat tree, and it was fruiting. I assumed that was all it was.

                                             The Hut that sat under the Langsat tree.

Unable to return to sleep, I sat up in meditation, reciting Quranic verses and doing some Zikrullah—quiet chants, mantras of remembrance. I spoke to the Lord like He was sitting beside me. It calmed me, focused my mind. But the sound above grew louder, more erratic. The "fruits" now sounded like stones being hurled—not falling naturally, but being aimed with purpose.

I stopped chanting. The pelting paused. I resumed. It started again, more intensely. By then, I was unsettled. Something wasn’t right.I stood up, grabbed my long bamboo stick, and stepped outside. The night wasn’t pitch black; a quarter moon hung in a clear sky. No wind, so there was no reason for an unusual fruit drop. I stood my ground and declared aloud to the night, “As the earth beneath my feet and the sky above my head bear witness, I fear none but Allah, and He is the Lord of Power over the seen and unseen!” I felt like a fool—but also strangely grounded. I began walking around the compound. The fear was still there, but I was no longer running from it. The entire area slowly lit up, bathed in moonlight, as if acknowledging my presence. I’d had similar moments before—surreal, electric—but this time felt more personal.

Back inside, I sat again in meditation, resuming my recitations. That’s when a deafening bang struck the zinc section of the roof. My spine tingled. It wasn’t imagination—it was a direct challenge. The barrage resumed, this time like an Intifadah, like Palestinian boys hurling rocks at an Israeli tank.I was no longer afraid. I was pissed off.So, I started to sing—out loud, full voice."Those were the days, my friend, we thought they'd never end… we'd sing and dance forever and a day… hey hey!"I belted it out, song after song, like I was in a karaoke bar instead of a jungle hut. I poured it all out—my defiance, my fear, my joy, my absurdity. The noise stopped. Even the frogs went silent.After three songs, I stopped and spoke to the presence—whatever it was: "Respect me, and I’ll respect you. No more Quranic verses or Beatles songs if you let me sleep in peace. I didn’t come here to make enemies."Peace returned. Rain began to fall. I slept.I don’t know if I was visited by a spirit, a jinn, a trick of my own mind, or simply a mischievous monkey. But I do know that I stood my ground. I didn’t run. I faced what had come to shake me.In that moment, I saw something within myself—a detachment from fear, a witness to my own reactions. I responded not as a victim but as a participant, even a celebrant. I wasn’t cowering. I was singing.And in that strange, sacred night, I glimpsed a deeper truth about my nature—something closer to the Divine. I understood, if only for a breath, what it means to take refuge in the Lord, to trust in His power when you’re alone, shaken, and unsure.

                                      To meet Fear eye to eye in a cosmic balance of unity.

“The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown.”
― H.P. Lovecraft

“It never ceases to amaze me when God wants to take someone to the next level in their life and they let fear of the unknown rob them of tremendous blessings… They are scared to death of being truly free and of God's overwhelming love.”
― R. Alan Woods

                        The Kapten burning some trash at night, do you see the figure in the fire?