(Sequel article of Bonang)
“Where is our destination today?” Kendrick asked.
Ahmed took a map from behind the sack on the back seat, studied it in a moment, and said, “We are going to Mount Muria in Kudus.”
Kendrick stretched his hand to ask for the map and observed the surrounding. “Are we still in the East Java?” He looked curious.
“Yes, we are,” Ahmed touched Hamdan’s shoulder. “How long is it to Mount Muria?”
“It’s around four hours, sir.”
“Good, then, I’ll do my maghrib sholat there.” Ahmed nodded calmly.
After taking on fuel, their car moved fast for the next destination.
“Moving along, I believe that you have five practices in Islam?” Kendrick started the conversation.
“Oh, yes, the profession of faith, ritual prayer, charity, ritual fasting, and hajj.”
“The pilgrimage to Mecca,” Kendrick confirmed. “Was the one you did early in the morning a ritual prayer?”
“Yes. I felt close to God whenever I pray.” His eyes were sparkling with worship and faith as he spoke.
“Yes, I understand. You have settled your itch,” Kendrick mumbled softly.
“Sorry? What did you say?”
“I wanted to feel the same just that way, being elated by my faith and felt fulfilled with God’s presence.”
“You are still searching, aren’t you?” Ahmed looked closely at his face.
“It’s very weird. Yesterday I felt the power seemed to engulf me. But, today I felt empty again, as if it didn’t want to stay in me.”
Ahmed smiled solemnly. “Take your time to find what you are searching for, my friend. As for me, I’ve found my way in Islam.”
Kendrick nodded thoughtfully.
They visited the grave of Raden Umar Said, the real name of Sunan Muria, up in the mountain.
After doing the ritual, they went back to the car and drove along the road for about half an hour to the grave of Sunan Kudus.
Sunan Kudus was a title given to Jafar Shodiq, a respectful guru who proselytized the teaching of Islam throughout the area by assimilating tradition with religious values.
“I notice that the architecture of the grave and mosque is similar to the Hindu temples in Bali.”
“Yes, the Sunan didn’t want to compel the new teachings into the society.”
Kendrick moved his head to signal acknowledgment. A religion penetrated without pressure, he commented inwardly.
After being silent for several minutes, Ahmed said, “Now, we move to Demak, the City of Wali. We are close to the end of our journey, my friend.”
“Wali? Are you referring to the Sunans?”
“Yes. Wali Sanga, the Sunans. Demak used to be the center for Islam teachings throughout Java. Sunan Kalijaga whose grave we’re going to visit played a very important role in its establishment.”
“I see,” Kendrick nodded.
“By the way, we’ll pass by the Demak Mosque. I want to have my evening prayer there. Afterward, let’s grab some food. What do you think?”
Kendrick smiled. “Fine with me.”
“We’ll spend our night there because it’s going to be a long trip before our destination to Cirebon.”
Kendrick stared, admiring in awe at the huge mosque beautifully-decorated with ancient relic interior and carved-ornament exterior. He waited for Ahmed to complete his prayer. The Demak Mosque was built in 1477 and was the first one established in Java Island.
Kendrick sat down on a rock. With the light of the outdoor lamp, he started writing his diary, and then he mulled over.
My pilgrimage is about to be over tomorrow. God, I have seen before my eyes that many wonders had happened in this world. I’m yearning for Your guide. Enlighten me.
Kendrick shut his eyes, took a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling the strong atmosphere of people worshiping God.
“Kendrick, my friend, I’m finished. Let’s eat. I’m starving.” The soft voice of Ahmed brought Kendrick to his conscience.
Kendrick opened his eyes widely and their eyes met, exchanging a true friendship. “Yes, me too. Come on.”
“Hamdan, do you know the good place to eat here?”
“Oh, yes, sir. They have a local food called gudeg. Let me take you there.”
He drove them to a small bamboo stall. Stepping out of the car, they set themselves in the rustic chairs.
“Why don’t you order for all of us?” Ahmed turned his head to Hamdan.
“Do you want chicken, eggs, or—”
“Just order the specialty, Hamdan. Let’s all of us have good meals.”
Kendrick observed the food in front of him; white rice, two pieces of breast chicken, two slices of half egg, steamed tofu, and dark brown vegetable making full his plate.
He had a spoon of it, trying to guess the taste.
“It’s some young jack fruit mixed with coconut, sir.” Hamdan supplied having observed Kendrick knitted his brows.
“Oh, yes, off course. Very tasty and crunchy.”
Ahmed nodded eating his meal. He chewed his rice tastily.
Author: Damien Dematra
A novelist, writer, painter, and photographer.
He can be contacted at info@damiendematra.com
www.damiendematra.com
You are allowed to copy and to distribute this article with limitation only for non-commercial purposes and with credit to the author.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
How to Experience a Miracle in 15 days: The Miracle of Love
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Thursday, August 14, 2008
How to Feel the presence of GOD in less than 5 minutes
Damien Dematra is a spiritualist, novelist, writer, painter, and photographer.
He can be contacted at info@damiendematra.com
www.damiendematra.com
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Bonang
(Sequel article of "Saved by A Fish")
“Ahmed, could you enlighten me about Sunan Bonang?”
“He was, as of others, a man of magic with one distinction. The Sunan was a music expert specializing in the instrument called bonang.”
“Oh, I see. What kind of instrument is that?”
“It is a part of Javanese gamelan. You know the horizontal arrangement of small gongs attached to the strings in a wooden frame in one or two rows. People played it with two padded sticks.”
“Oh, yes, yes. I know the American gamelan. The university keeps one in their music room.”
“So, his instrument echoed the magic that once paralyzed the criminals. They repented and became his follower afterward.”
“To which grave shall we visit, sir?” suddenly Hamdan raised the question, turning his head at them.
“Let’s visit the one behind the Tuban Mosque.”
“Is there more than one grave?” Kendrick was surprised. “How many bodies did he have?”
Ahmed laughed. “He left it uncovered. During his last days, he took his missionary in a small island outside of Java Island. The students wanted to bury him there but his other disciples in Tuban objected the idea. So, they ‘stole’ his body.”
“Let me guess, the body appeared in the two places?”
“That’s correct, my friend. Ah, here we go.”
They stepped out the car and strode along the small alley beside the Tuban Mosque to get into the graveyard to pray.
After doing the routine ritual, they went out to find a hotel.
Kendrick and Ahmed shared a room.
Kendrick’s was very sleepy but before shutting his eyes and saying good-bye to the night, he opened his diary and wrote:
I’m visiting four graves in one night. I’ve never done that in my whole forty-five-year life. Each of them gave me a different nuance. It was the sense of a supernatural power. I could see clearly that Ahmed was gaining what he aimed to. Yet, I don’t feel homey as if I feel that I have to seek for more. The hole inside me hasn’t been filled completely yet.
He put his diary back to his backpack and went to bed.
Kendrick felt that he was just only sleeping for a few hours when he was awaken by Ahmed’s move.
“What are you doing?” he whispered, squinting at him in the dark. “Do we have to go?”
“Hush. I’m sorry to wake you up. No, we’re not leaving now. I’m only doing my fajr sholat. It’s my morning prayer. Go back to sleep!” Ahmed replied him with a subdued voice.
Drowsing, Kendrick sneaked a look at him. He was kneeling down on certain directions, bowing down his back, whiffing a prayer. But he did not remember the rest of his ritual because he had gone back to his sleeping, dreaming about the four graves he had just visited.
They woke up rather late the next day, strode slowly to the modest cafeteria, had their fried rice with hot sweet tea as their brunch in rush, and then went back to their room to take a bath.
Being refreshed, they checked out and jumped back to the car ready to continue their journey to the rest of the graves.
“Where is our destination today?” Kendrick asked.
Ahmed took a map from behind the sack on the back seat, studied it in a moment, and said, “We are going to Mount Muria in Kudus.”
Kendrick stretched his hand to ask for the map and observed the surrounding. “Are we still in the East Java?” He looked curious.
“Yes, we are,” Ahmed touched Hamdan’s shoulder. “How long is it to Mount Muria?”
“It’s around four hours, sir.”
“Good, then, I’ll do my maghrib sholat there.” Ahmed nodded calmly.
After taking on fuel, their car moved fast for the next destination.
“Moving along, I believe that you have five practices in Islam?” Kendrick started the conversation.
“Oh, yes, the profession of faith, ritual prayer, charity, ritual fasting, and hajj.”
“The pilgrimage to Mecca,” Kendrick confirmed. “Was the one you did early in the morning a ritual prayer?”
“Yes. I felt close to God whenever I pray.” His eyes were sparkling with worship and faith as he spoke.
“Yes, I understand. You have settled your itch,” Kendrick mumbled softly.
“Sorry? What did you say?”
“I wanted to feel the same just that way, being elated by my faith and felt fulfilled with the God’s presence.”
“You are still searching, aren’t you?” Ahmed looked closely at his face.
“It’s very weird. Yesterday I felt the power seemed to engulf me. But, today I felt empty again, as if it didn’t want to stay in me.”
Ahmed smiled solemnly. “Take your time to find what you are searching for, my friend. As for me, I’ve found my way in Islam.”
Kendrick nodded thoughtfully.
Author: Damien Dematra
He is a novelist, writer, painter, and photographer.
He can be contacted at info@damiendematra.com
www.damiendematra.com
You are allowed to copy and to distribute this article with limitation only for non-commercial purposes and with credit to the author.
“Ahmed, could you enlighten me about Sunan Bonang?”
“He was, as of others, a man of magic with one distinction. The Sunan was a music expert specializing in the instrument called bonang.”
“Oh, I see. What kind of instrument is that?”
“It is a part of Javanese gamelan. You know the horizontal arrangement of small gongs attached to the strings in a wooden frame in one or two rows. People played it with two padded sticks.”
“Oh, yes, yes. I know the American gamelan. The university keeps one in their music room.”
“So, his instrument echoed the magic that once paralyzed the criminals. They repented and became his follower afterward.”
“To which grave shall we visit, sir?” suddenly Hamdan raised the question, turning his head at them.
“Let’s visit the one behind the Tuban Mosque.”
“Is there more than one grave?” Kendrick was surprised. “How many bodies did he have?”
Ahmed laughed. “He left it uncovered. During his last days, he took his missionary in a small island outside of Java Island. The students wanted to bury him there but his other disciples in Tuban objected the idea. So, they ‘stole’ his body.”
“Let me guess, the body appeared in the two places?”
“That’s correct, my friend. Ah, here we go.”
They stepped out the car and strode along the small alley beside the Tuban Mosque to get into the graveyard to pray.
After doing the routine ritual, they went out to find a hotel.
Kendrick and Ahmed shared a room.
Kendrick’s was very sleepy but before shutting his eyes and saying good-bye to the night, he opened his diary and wrote:
I’m visiting four graves in one night. I’ve never done that in my whole forty-five-year life. Each of them gave me a different nuance. It was the sense of a supernatural power. I could see clearly that Ahmed was gaining what he aimed to. Yet, I don’t feel homey as if I feel that I have to seek for more. The hole inside me hasn’t been filled completely yet.
He put his diary back to his backpack and went to bed.
Kendrick felt that he was just only sleeping for a few hours when he was awaken by Ahmed’s move.
“What are you doing?” he whispered, squinting at him in the dark. “Do we have to go?”
“Hush. I’m sorry to wake you up. No, we’re not leaving now. I’m only doing my fajr sholat. It’s my morning prayer. Go back to sleep!” Ahmed replied him with a subdued voice.
Drowsing, Kendrick sneaked a look at him. He was kneeling down on certain directions, bowing down his back, whiffing a prayer. But he did not remember the rest of his ritual because he had gone back to his sleeping, dreaming about the four graves he had just visited.
They woke up rather late the next day, strode slowly to the modest cafeteria, had their fried rice with hot sweet tea as their brunch in rush, and then went back to their room to take a bath.
Being refreshed, they checked out and jumped back to the car ready to continue their journey to the rest of the graves.
“Where is our destination today?” Kendrick asked.
Ahmed took a map from behind the sack on the back seat, studied it in a moment, and said, “We are going to Mount Muria in Kudus.”
Kendrick stretched his hand to ask for the map and observed the surrounding. “Are we still in the East Java?” He looked curious.
“Yes, we are,” Ahmed touched Hamdan’s shoulder. “How long is it to Mount Muria?”
“It’s around four hours, sir.”
“Good, then, I’ll do my maghrib sholat there.” Ahmed nodded calmly.
After taking on fuel, their car moved fast for the next destination.
“Moving along, I believe that you have five practices in Islam?” Kendrick started the conversation.
“Oh, yes, the profession of faith, ritual prayer, charity, ritual fasting, and hajj.”
“The pilgrimage to Mecca,” Kendrick confirmed. “Was the one you did early in the morning a ritual prayer?”
“Yes. I felt close to God whenever I pray.” His eyes were sparkling with worship and faith as he spoke.
“Yes, I understand. You have settled your itch,” Kendrick mumbled softly.
“Sorry? What did you say?”
“I wanted to feel the same just that way, being elated by my faith and felt fulfilled with the God’s presence.”
“You are still searching, aren’t you?” Ahmed looked closely at his face.
“It’s very weird. Yesterday I felt the power seemed to engulf me. But, today I felt empty again, as if it didn’t want to stay in me.”
Ahmed smiled solemnly. “Take your time to find what you are searching for, my friend. As for me, I’ve found my way in Islam.”
Kendrick nodded thoughtfully.
Author: Damien Dematra
He is a novelist, writer, painter, and photographer.
He can be contacted at info@damiendematra.com
www.damiendematra.com
You are allowed to copy and to distribute this article with limitation only for non-commercial purposes and with credit to the author.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Saved by A Fish
(Sequel article of "Miracles in Giri")
In less than two hours, the car launched to a dark forest area where Kendrick saw a huge parking space. Buses and private cars filled in the empty spaces.
So many vehicles! Kendrick thought. He followed his friend to the grave. The mystical aura was overwhelming the environment encouraging him to think whether he was getting near to God.
Kendrick saw Ahmed was extolling God and spelling the beads.
How serene his face is! he commented mentally. Suddenly, Kendrick saw a soft white light illuminated from Ahmed's face. God, is that the miracle I'm longing for? He was amazed.
As soon as it finished, Ahmed turned his head to his friend and saw Kendrick watching him mouth-opened. He smiled wisely. "Let's go outside, Kendrick."
They strode in silence.
"Let's eat first. I'm starving." Ahmed suggested.
"Oh, God, yes. Me, too. Just realized it." Kendrick finally remembered his body's calling. "Hey, there's Hamdan. Let's invite him to eat with us."
Ahmed waved his hand at his aide to follow them.
They tramped down the grass entering a bamboo veranda and then sitting crossing their legs in front of the rattan table.
"Ahà nice! What do they have here?" Kendrick remarked.
"Let me see." Ahmed tried to check the list.
Kendrick, not knowing the language, just sat still enjoying the atmosphere.
"What do you think, Hamdan?" Ahmed handed the food menu to him. "I used to have hot coffee and boiled noodles."
"Which one is that?"
Hamdan checked the menu. "This one, sir!" He pointed at the word kopi panas and mie kuah.
"Okay, I'll take that one. What about you?" He stared at Kendrick.
Kendrick squared his shoulders. "Make it double!"
"What about you Hamdan?" Ahmed turned to his aide.
"I'll order the same as you, sir." He bent his shoulders as a gesture of respect Kendrick had already got used to.
A fat woman came to approach them and asked the food they wanted.
While waiting, Kendrick asked, "So, what's the story of this Sunan?"
"Sunan Drajat? He was a man full of magic like the others and ?" Ahmed's eyebrows deepened. "If I'm not mistaken, he was also miraculously saved from the ocean's storm."
"When he was a baby?"
Ahmed grinned. "No, when he was sailing a fish-boat. He got some help from the fish but I forget what kind of fish they were."
"Fish?" Kendrick gave him an inquiring look.
"Yes. Then, he began teaching the denizens. At the same time, he developed this area." Ahmed glanced at his watch. "Hum, what about going to the grave of Sunan Bonang after this? It's around one and a half hour from this place. We can spend our night there instead."
Kendrick nodded. "Sure. Ah. Our dinner is coming right up." Kendrick rubbed his hands, seeing the fat lady approaching them with three bowls of steaming noodle soup and three glasses of coffee.
Author: Damien Dematra
He is a novelist, writer, painter, and photographer.
He can be contacted at info@damiendematra.com
www.damiendematra.com
You are allowed to copy and to distribute this article with limitation only for non-commercial purposes and with credit to the author.
In less than two hours, the car launched to a dark forest area where Kendrick saw a huge parking space. Buses and private cars filled in the empty spaces.
So many vehicles! Kendrick thought. He followed his friend to the grave. The mystical aura was overwhelming the environment encouraging him to think whether he was getting near to God.
Kendrick saw Ahmed was extolling God and spelling the beads.
How serene his face is! he commented mentally. Suddenly, Kendrick saw a soft white light illuminated from Ahmed's face. God, is that the miracle I'm longing for? He was amazed.
As soon as it finished, Ahmed turned his head to his friend and saw Kendrick watching him mouth-opened. He smiled wisely. "Let's go outside, Kendrick."
They strode in silence.
"Let's eat first. I'm starving." Ahmed suggested.
"Oh, God, yes. Me, too. Just realized it." Kendrick finally remembered his body's calling. "Hey, there's Hamdan. Let's invite him to eat with us."
Ahmed waved his hand at his aide to follow them.
They tramped down the grass entering a bamboo veranda and then sitting crossing their legs in front of the rattan table.
"Ahà nice! What do they have here?" Kendrick remarked.
"Let me see." Ahmed tried to check the list.
Kendrick, not knowing the language, just sat still enjoying the atmosphere.
"What do you think, Hamdan?" Ahmed handed the food menu to him. "I used to have hot coffee and boiled noodles."
"Which one is that?"
Hamdan checked the menu. "This one, sir!" He pointed at the word kopi panas and mie kuah.
"Okay, I'll take that one. What about you?" He stared at Kendrick.
Kendrick squared his shoulders. "Make it double!"
"What about you Hamdan?" Ahmed turned to his aide.
"I'll order the same as you, sir." He bent his shoulders as a gesture of respect Kendrick had already got used to.
A fat woman came to approach them and asked the food they wanted.
While waiting, Kendrick asked, "So, what's the story of this Sunan?"
"Sunan Drajat? He was a man full of magic like the others and ?" Ahmed's eyebrows deepened. "If I'm not mistaken, he was also miraculously saved from the ocean's storm."
"When he was a baby?"
Ahmed grinned. "No, when he was sailing a fish-boat. He got some help from the fish but I forget what kind of fish they were."
"Fish?" Kendrick gave him an inquiring look.
"Yes. Then, he began teaching the denizens. At the same time, he developed this area." Ahmed glanced at his watch. "Hum, what about going to the grave of Sunan Bonang after this? It's around one and a half hour from this place. We can spend our night there instead."
Kendrick nodded. "Sure. Ah. Our dinner is coming right up." Kendrick rubbed his hands, seeing the fat lady approaching them with three bowls of steaming noodle soup and three glasses of coffee.
Author: Damien Dematra
He is a novelist, writer, painter, and photographer.
He can be contacted at info@damiendematra.com
www.damiendematra.com
You are allowed to copy and to distribute this article with limitation only for non-commercial purposes and with credit to the author.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Miracles in Giri
(Sequel article of "A Pilgrimage with Ahmed")
After praying and bestowing his respect in front of the shrine of Sunan Maulana, they are headed for the shrine of Sunan Giri, not far from the visited one.
"There was a miraculous story behind this man."
"Oh, really? Fill me in, Ahmed!" Kendrick enthused.
"He was born in a royal family from a consecrated Moslem man who finally tied the knot with a princess whom he cured. Just like the modern world, there wasn't much different then when you are talking about power and politics of the past. The influence of the Moslem man became larger causing the second man for the king felt his position in threat. He conspired to get rid of him. At that time, the princess had already been in seven-month pregnancy. Feeling insecure, the second man arranged for the baby to be thrown to the sea soon after his birth. The princess was devastated. She decided to start roving. Since then, no body had ever heard about her anymore."
"Such a sad story."
"Yeah. That's life, isn't it?" Ahmed commented in gloomy tone.
"So, the baby is Sunan Giri?"
"Giri was the name of the place. His real name was Raden Paku. Well, you know, Raden was a title for Javanese nobility."
"Oh, I see." Kendrick nodded. "What happen after he was drifted along the ocean?"
"He was magically saved by a merchant's boat which belonged to the conspirator's wife."
"The second man to the king? It's very ironic as he was the one who tried to put the Raden in exile at the first place."
Ahmed smiled approvingly. "Indeed, but then, the man had died."
"Oh, yeah?" Kendrick raised one of his eyebrows.
"Yup, back to his wife. She took and raised the child until he grew up. He performed many magical occurrences which made people stunned."
"What kind of magic did he do?" Kendrick's emotion was elated by the story.
"Well, like one day, he led his mother's merchant-boat trade in another island. Instead of having the commodities traded, he gave them to the poor. On his way home, to balance the weight of his boat, he instructed his men to load the boat with sands and stones."
"I can imagine he will face the music from his mother," Kendrick grinned.
"Well, yes and no. It was just this close," Ahmed pulled his thumb and forefinger together to make a signal and then continued. "She learnt that the sands and stones had turned into the merchandise she needed."
"It's another miracle."
"Yes. He displayed many in his life."
Kendrick mulled over the story. I've been searching for God all my life but I have never experienced any spectacular miracle. Does it mean that I am not as good as others?
God, I'm trying to understand You better. I've learnt that my small brain can't take the grandness of Your wisdom but stillà.
He recalled his life. Well, it's not like that I desperately need one. I've never had trapped in a great danger. My life is quite simple.
"Have you ever experienced a miracle, Ahmed?"
"Every single day, my friend." He gazed tenderly at him.
"Every day?"
"Yes, my life is a miracle. The happiness inside my heart, my serenity, my family, they are all my miracles."
"I mean despite your regular life. Have you ever encountered one?" Kendrick persisted on the subject.
"I feel closer to God everyday but hey, I can't fly if that what you are asking about." Ahmed laughed.
"Of course not.." Kendrick felt himself blushing.
Kendrick accompanied his friend praying in the grave and then, they drove again.
"Are you okay with this trip or shall we find a place to rest for a while?"
"I'm okay, Ahmed. I've had enough rest before. I'll follow your routine. Don't worry!"
"Hamdan," he called the aide. "Are you still okay to continue?"
"Yes, sir. I'm all right. Do you want to go right away?"
"Yes, please. Let's pay a visit to Sunan Drajat's grave."
Author: Damien Dematra
He is a novelist, writer, painter, and photographer.
He can be contacted at info@damiendematra.com
www.damiendematra.com
You are allowed to copy and to distribute this article with limitation only for non-commercial purposes and with credit to the author.
After praying and bestowing his respect in front of the shrine of Sunan Maulana, they are headed for the shrine of Sunan Giri, not far from the visited one.
"There was a miraculous story behind this man."
"Oh, really? Fill me in, Ahmed!" Kendrick enthused.
"He was born in a royal family from a consecrated Moslem man who finally tied the knot with a princess whom he cured. Just like the modern world, there wasn't much different then when you are talking about power and politics of the past. The influence of the Moslem man became larger causing the second man for the king felt his position in threat. He conspired to get rid of him. At that time, the princess had already been in seven-month pregnancy. Feeling insecure, the second man arranged for the baby to be thrown to the sea soon after his birth. The princess was devastated. She decided to start roving. Since then, no body had ever heard about her anymore."
"Such a sad story."
"Yeah. That's life, isn't it?" Ahmed commented in gloomy tone.
"So, the baby is Sunan Giri?"
"Giri was the name of the place. His real name was Raden Paku. Well, you know, Raden was a title for Javanese nobility."
"Oh, I see." Kendrick nodded. "What happen after he was drifted along the ocean?"
"He was magically saved by a merchant's boat which belonged to the conspirator's wife."
"The second man to the king? It's very ironic as he was the one who tried to put the Raden in exile at the first place."
Ahmed smiled approvingly. "Indeed, but then, the man had died."
"Oh, yeah?" Kendrick raised one of his eyebrows.
"Yup, back to his wife. She took and raised the child until he grew up. He performed many magical occurrences which made people stunned."
"What kind of magic did he do?" Kendrick's emotion was elated by the story.
"Well, like one day, he led his mother's merchant-boat trade in another island. Instead of having the commodities traded, he gave them to the poor. On his way home, to balance the weight of his boat, he instructed his men to load the boat with sands and stones."
"I can imagine he will face the music from his mother," Kendrick grinned.
"Well, yes and no. It was just this close," Ahmed pulled his thumb and forefinger together to make a signal and then continued. "She learnt that the sands and stones had turned into the merchandise she needed."
"It's another miracle."
"Yes. He displayed many in his life."
Kendrick mulled over the story. I've been searching for God all my life but I have never experienced any spectacular miracle. Does it mean that I am not as good as others?
God, I'm trying to understand You better. I've learnt that my small brain can't take the grandness of Your wisdom but stillà.
He recalled his life. Well, it's not like that I desperately need one. I've never had trapped in a great danger. My life is quite simple.
"Have you ever experienced a miracle, Ahmed?"
"Every single day, my friend." He gazed tenderly at him.
"Every day?"
"Yes, my life is a miracle. The happiness inside my heart, my serenity, my family, they are all my miracles."
"I mean despite your regular life. Have you ever encountered one?" Kendrick persisted on the subject.
"I feel closer to God everyday but hey, I can't fly if that what you are asking about." Ahmed laughed.
"Of course not.." Kendrick felt himself blushing.
Kendrick accompanied his friend praying in the grave and then, they drove again.
"Are you okay with this trip or shall we find a place to rest for a while?"
"I'm okay, Ahmed. I've had enough rest before. I'll follow your routine. Don't worry!"
"Hamdan," he called the aide. "Are you still okay to continue?"
"Yes, sir. I'm all right. Do you want to go right away?"
"Yes, please. Let's pay a visit to Sunan Drajat's grave."
Author: Damien Dematra
He is a novelist, writer, painter, and photographer.
He can be contacted at info@damiendematra.com
www.damiendematra.com
You are allowed to copy and to distribute this article with limitation only for non-commercial purposes and with credit to the author.
A Pilgrimage with Ahmed
(Sequel article of "The Sunans")
On the following day, Kendrick and Ahmed had breakfast together at the hotel. Kendrick was ladling the porridge out of the small cup when Ahmed opened a conversation.
"How's your sleep?"
Kendrick nodded. "Oh, good. I felt asleep instantly the moment I smelt my pillow."
Ahmed sipped his coffee and asked, "So, what do you think about yesterday?"
Kendrick moved his lips for a soft smile. "It gave me a new sensation I'd never felt before. It was really a new thing for me."
Ahmed made a gesture. "Oh, really? So, you are going to continue this journey with me?" his lenient eyes expressed his wisdom.
"Absolutely. Now, tell me about our next destination. Where are we heading to?"
"We are going to visit Sunan Maulana's grave in Gresik. It's an hour drive from here."
"Maulana? What's his story?"
"His full-name was Syekh Maulana Malik Ibrahim. He mentioned some good points I agree with. His analysis was that before the believers came into the House of God, they should be fulfilled with the basic daily needs. In doing so, they wouldn't keep thinking and worrying about such things while praying."
Kendrick remembered how difficult it was to concentrate on his first yoga session whereas he had nothing to worry about except for his yearning desire. "Yeah, I also agree. We used to hear so many voices, and our minds tend to compete with them in a constant battle. When the surrounding suddenly went calm down, the mind was behind in coping with the new situation. It needs some time to adjust in the new calmness, and be reorganized. You can be surprised of how much unnecessary subjects we think of every day."
Ahmed chuckled. "Are you saying it based on your theories or experiment?"
Kendrick laughed. "Yeah, it relates to my latest experiment while taking my yoga course."
Ahmed commented, "It's so true. Still, I think that we have to be in balance. The best thinking is to synchronize the thoughts. From my experience, I learn that human beings tend to fill our minds merely with the physical pleasure like food, sex, recreation. We give too little proportion for the healthiness of the spirit when actually the spirit is what makes us alive."
Kendrick pondered.
Ahmed rose up to his feet. "I think I'm going to line up for some eggs. How about you?"
"I'm okay." He expressed his thanks with his smile and extended his hand to seize the handle of his coffee cup.
Drinking, Kendrick observed Ahmed from a distance. He wore his daily clothes with a long light orange cotton shirt, creamy pants, and white turban.
Author: Damien Dematra
He is a novelist, writer, painter, and photographer.
He can be contacted at info@damiendematra.com
www.damiendematra.com
You are allowed to copy and to distribute this article with limitation only for non-commercial purposes and with credit to the author.
On the following day, Kendrick and Ahmed had breakfast together at the hotel. Kendrick was ladling the porridge out of the small cup when Ahmed opened a conversation.
"How's your sleep?"
Kendrick nodded. "Oh, good. I felt asleep instantly the moment I smelt my pillow."
Ahmed sipped his coffee and asked, "So, what do you think about yesterday?"
Kendrick moved his lips for a soft smile. "It gave me a new sensation I'd never felt before. It was really a new thing for me."
Ahmed made a gesture. "Oh, really? So, you are going to continue this journey with me?" his lenient eyes expressed his wisdom.
"Absolutely. Now, tell me about our next destination. Where are we heading to?"
"We are going to visit Sunan Maulana's grave in Gresik. It's an hour drive from here."
"Maulana? What's his story?"
"His full-name was Syekh Maulana Malik Ibrahim. He mentioned some good points I agree with. His analysis was that before the believers came into the House of God, they should be fulfilled with the basic daily needs. In doing so, they wouldn't keep thinking and worrying about such things while praying."
Kendrick remembered how difficult it was to concentrate on his first yoga session whereas he had nothing to worry about except for his yearning desire. "Yeah, I also agree. We used to hear so many voices, and our minds tend to compete with them in a constant battle. When the surrounding suddenly went calm down, the mind was behind in coping with the new situation. It needs some time to adjust in the new calmness, and be reorganized. You can be surprised of how much unnecessary subjects we think of every day."
Ahmed chuckled. "Are you saying it based on your theories or experiment?"
Kendrick laughed. "Yeah, it relates to my latest experiment while taking my yoga course."
Ahmed commented, "It's so true. Still, I think that we have to be in balance. The best thinking is to synchronize the thoughts. From my experience, I learn that human beings tend to fill our minds merely with the physical pleasure like food, sex, recreation. We give too little proportion for the healthiness of the spirit when actually the spirit is what makes us alive."
Kendrick pondered.
Ahmed rose up to his feet. "I think I'm going to line up for some eggs. How about you?"
"I'm okay." He expressed his thanks with his smile and extended his hand to seize the handle of his coffee cup.
Drinking, Kendrick observed Ahmed from a distance. He wore his daily clothes with a long light orange cotton shirt, creamy pants, and white turban.
Author: Damien Dematra
He is a novelist, writer, painter, and photographer.
He can be contacted at info@damiendematra.com
www.damiendematra.com
You are allowed to copy and to distribute this article with limitation only for non-commercial purposes and with credit to the author.
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