(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.
Saturday, March 22, 2008
The Sunans
(Sequel article of "Bali to Java: The Quest Continues")
"Our first destination is the shrine of Sunan Ampel, one of the eldest among them. Most of the rest of the Sunans we're going to visit were related to him," Ahmed said, looking at Kendrick.
"Related as in a family?"
"Yes. He was also the guru for some of them."
"It's like a big clan, then?"
Ahmed beckoned Kendrick on. "Yes, it's something like that."
"So, how many times have you been doing this pilgrimage?"
"This trip will be my third one. Every time I come to Indonesia, I always try to visit at least one of the shrines whichever I'm close to at the time."
"What drives you to visit those places, Ahmed?"
"The spiritual aura, my friend. The strong sensation you feel whenever you are there. Rather hard to explain but it makes me feel closer to God." Ahmed stroked his chin slowly, smiling. His mind drifted.
Kendrick made a reflection. This should be a new experience for me. I must be able to feel the superpower engulfing me too, then.
He pulled out his diary, attempting to write on it despite of the shaking motion of the ferry in the rippled ocean.
"You keep a journal, huh?" Ahmed regained his consciousness from his daydream, paying attention to Kendrick again.
"Hum, yes. After I'm back to DC, I want to have good recollection of my journey, you know."
"All right, then." Ahmed glanced at his neat diary, grinning in full understanding. "You are a professor, aren't you?"
"Yes." He gave a secretive teasing smile while knowing his friend was curious about his diary. "Back to the subject, what do people usually aim by going to the shrines? I mean I assume there must be other reasons beside yours."
"Yeah. Some people come to seek for blessing, others for solutions of their problems, businesses, or households. Yet, some people even ask to have their rivals cursed."
Kendrick was surprised. "Cursing?"
Ahmed chuckled to see his friend's face. "Well, I knew that from people's stories."
"Does the pray work?"
Ahmed shrugged his shoulders. "I never ask anything when I'm in front of the grave. I just want to feel the aroma of the power, you know. It strengthens me."
"Yeah. You've mentioned that." Kendrick beckoned.
"Speaking of belief, I'm in favor of Sufism teachings. They stressed on finding the inner truth within one's heart. I don't really believe in those boundaries people made."
"Are you referring to the institutions?" Kendrick asked.
Ahmed creased his eyebrows. "I'm talking about everything, in general, blocking people's view to see the truth. Sometimes, we are carried away with the package we forget about what the essence is."
"I think that it's all about mind. To some extent, I agree with the restrictions because what you are talking is hard-chewed stuff. You know that not everybody can take in the same weighty consideration as you. At the end, not everything can be applied to everyone, can it?"
Ahmed pondered for a moment before continuing the conversation. "So, tell me, what you think about the sayings that they could lock you up but couldn't lock your mind? Fill me in a little here, Kendrick!"
"I believe in the system as long as there is freedom in it. As simple as that."
"Hmm…." Ahmed was silent and took his time to muse over their conversation until their ferryboat landed on the east tip of Java Island.
Driving for plenty hours, the car passed some big stores selling many souvenirs such as Koran, Islamic clothing, praying beads, and talismans.
"We are close to the grave," Ahmed informed. He reached his pocket, pulled out his string of beads, and began to spell it slowly. His lips moved in repetition, uttering soft voice Kendrick did not understand.
Their car stopped in front of a big mosque.
"I'll do my maghrib prayer first. Could you wait for me?" Ahmed pushed his door open.
"Sure. I'll wait here," Kendrick replied.
He was standing by their car thinking. Now, I understand what Ahmed was saying previously. Yes, I do feel a strong aura around here.
After praying, Ahmed strode inside the graveyard complex. Kendrick walked beside him. They found a huge tomb fenced in with around five-feet-tall stainless steel.
Ahmed bent his head down for a whiff and prayed in deep devotion and reverence. Kendrick stood still near him. He relished the serene feeling of being there with his friend. Kendrick could not understand Ahmed's words but he noticed that after finishing the pray his face turned to be radiant as if he had been recharged. God, I want to have that kind of serenity either. He seemed so relaxed and joyful.
Ahmed stroked his face with both of his palms taking a deep breath. "Come, let's go, Kendrick."
His voice startled him. "Okay. Shall we find a place to sleep?"
"All right, let's find one."
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.
"Our first destination is the shrine of Sunan Ampel, one of the eldest among them. Most of the rest of the Sunans we're going to visit were related to him," Ahmed said, looking at Kendrick.
"Related as in a family?"
"Yes. He was also the guru for some of them."
"It's like a big clan, then?"
Ahmed beckoned Kendrick on. "Yes, it's something like that."
"So, how many times have you been doing this pilgrimage?"
"This trip will be my third one. Every time I come to Indonesia, I always try to visit at least one of the shrines whichever I'm close to at the time."
"What drives you to visit those places, Ahmed?"
"The spiritual aura, my friend. The strong sensation you feel whenever you are there. Rather hard to explain but it makes me feel closer to God." Ahmed stroked his chin slowly, smiling. His mind drifted.
Kendrick made a reflection. This should be a new experience for me. I must be able to feel the superpower engulfing me too, then.
He pulled out his diary, attempting to write on it despite of the shaking motion of the ferry in the rippled ocean.
"You keep a journal, huh?" Ahmed regained his consciousness from his daydream, paying attention to Kendrick again.
"Hum, yes. After I'm back to DC, I want to have good recollection of my journey, you know."
"All right, then." Ahmed glanced at his neat diary, grinning in full understanding. "You are a professor, aren't you?"
"Yes." He gave a secretive teasing smile while knowing his friend was curious about his diary. "Back to the subject, what do people usually aim by going to the shrines? I mean I assume there must be other reasons beside yours."
"Yeah. Some people come to seek for blessing, others for solutions of their problems, businesses, or households. Yet, some people even ask to have their rivals cursed."
Kendrick was surprised. "Cursing?"
Ahmed chuckled to see his friend's face. "Well, I knew that from people's stories."
"Does the pray work?"
Ahmed shrugged his shoulders. "I never ask anything when I'm in front of the grave. I just want to feel the aroma of the power, you know. It strengthens me."
"Yeah. You've mentioned that." Kendrick beckoned.
"Speaking of belief, I'm in favor of Sufism teachings. They stressed on finding the inner truth within one's heart. I don't really believe in those boundaries people made."
"Are you referring to the institutions?" Kendrick asked.
Ahmed creased his eyebrows. "I'm talking about everything, in general, blocking people's view to see the truth. Sometimes, we are carried away with the package we forget about what the essence is."
"I think that it's all about mind. To some extent, I agree with the restrictions because what you are talking is hard-chewed stuff. You know that not everybody can take in the same weighty consideration as you. At the end, not everything can be applied to everyone, can it?"
Ahmed pondered for a moment before continuing the conversation. "So, tell me, what you think about the sayings that they could lock you up but couldn't lock your mind? Fill me in a little here, Kendrick!"
"I believe in the system as long as there is freedom in it. As simple as that."
"Hmm…." Ahmed was silent and took his time to muse over their conversation until their ferryboat landed on the east tip of Java Island.
Driving for plenty hours, the car passed some big stores selling many souvenirs such as Koran, Islamic clothing, praying beads, and talismans.
"We are close to the grave," Ahmed informed. He reached his pocket, pulled out his string of beads, and began to spell it slowly. His lips moved in repetition, uttering soft voice Kendrick did not understand.
Their car stopped in front of a big mosque.
"I'll do my maghrib prayer first. Could you wait for me?" Ahmed pushed his door open.
"Sure. I'll wait here," Kendrick replied.
He was standing by their car thinking. Now, I understand what Ahmed was saying previously. Yes, I do feel a strong aura around here.
After praying, Ahmed strode inside the graveyard complex. Kendrick walked beside him. They found a huge tomb fenced in with around five-feet-tall stainless steel.
Ahmed bent his head down for a whiff and prayed in deep devotion and reverence. Kendrick stood still near him. He relished the serene feeling of being there with his friend. Kendrick could not understand Ahmed's words but he noticed that after finishing the pray his face turned to be radiant as if he had been recharged. God, I want to have that kind of serenity either. He seemed so relaxed and joyful.
Ahmed stroked his face with both of his palms taking a deep breath. "Come, let's go, Kendrick."
His voice startled him. "Okay. Shall we find a place to sleep?"
"All right, let's find one."
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.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Bali to Java: The Quest Continues
(Sequel article of Lunch in Ubud)
Kendrick went out with Maya and Mangku Marendra a couple of times to see the traditional dance performance and other Bali's exotic places. During his stay in Bali, Kendrick attempted to meditate more often.
The longer he attended the yoga class, the more he became calm. His mind was still filled with many thoughts, sometimes it traveled back and forth DC and Bali, mixed-up with his quest but then, it was lessened, until one day, he managed to break down his thoughts one by one. However, Kendrick's heart was still searching. He has become calmer but his yearning heart remained unanswered.
He was sitting in an open-air café, gazing at the beach, delighting the sunny weather, pondering.
God, maybe, this is not my path. It seems to be my friends' path of life and I haven't been satisfied yet.
Kendrick searched for his diary inside of his leather backpack, seized it out, and started to write.
God, I think I'm going to end my stay in Bali. Where should I go next? I'm still not able to feel You, the way the Mangku expressed in his words and eyes. Am I doing it wrong?
Well, maybe, I should take another road but where should I go?
Suddenly, his cell phone rang. He startled to hear the sound. It had been quite a while since he heard it ringing. Is something happening in my house in DC? Is it on fire? He frowned and rashly opened the flip.
"Hello? Professor Lovington?"
"Speaking. Who's this?"
"I'm Ahmed Badullah, your friend from the conference."
"Oh, yes. Of course, I remember you. How are you?" Kendrick's imagination ran into a tall man around of his age with a white turban, pointed nose, and trimmed beard.
"I'm fine. I heard from Mangku Ida Marendra that you are attending the meditation class."
Kendrick chuckled. "Yes, but I'm about to leave."
"So, have you found what you are looking for?"
"Hum…" Kendrick was hesitant. "I found the peace inside me but I haven't got my ultimate answers."
"Listen, I'm still in Bali and about to take a pilgrimage throughout Java Island. How about if you come along with me? I can go in company. I've rent a car."
Gee, could this be an answer from God? "Hum, okay. When will you leave?"
"Oh, great! I know you would say yes. I'm leaving on Monday."
"Two days from now? All right."
"Great. Pick you up at eleven?"
"I'll be ready. Thanks, Ahmed. See you."
Kendrick wore the beige clam-digger pants with a white cotton shirt. He stretched out his arms in front of him to examine his appearance and smiled.
I'm ready to start a new journey.
He walked slowly across his room, turned the doorknob, pulled a deep breath, and aimed to the receptionist at the front hall of the hotel waiting for Ahmed.
At eleven o'clock sharp, Kendrick saw a green landrover approaching the hotel. Ahmed jumped out of the car.
"Kendrick! Hi! How have you been?" He shook Kendrick's hands cheerfully. "Oh, this is Hamdan. He's from Java. He used to drive pilgrimages to the sacred places. Ahmed patted Hamdan's back who immediately gave a blushing gesture.
"Hi," Kendrick greeted him.
Hamdan was a skinny dark-haired man in his thirties with a heart-shaped face and friendly gesture. He bent his shoulders every time he walked passing the two men and rushed to close the door for them.
No one had bestowed him such a respect. "Does he have to do that?" Kendrick's eyebrows curled.
"It's his way of giving a respect. He considered us superior."
Kendrick would never imagine one of his students would do that to him.
"Well, well, all right then, if he feels convenient with it."
They drove a couple of hours to the harbor and took a ferryboat to Java Island.
"So, could you brief me on this journey?" The breeze teased his hair touching his soft face repetitively. He let the sliding window next to him open to get the ocean breeze penetrated inside the condensed cabin.
"We're going to Surabaya to the first stop of the nine shrines of the Sunans we're going to visit."
"I'm sorry, do you mind shedding a little light on the journey for me? What is a Sunan?"
"It's an Islamic title for the earliest Islam preachers in Indonesia. It means God's messenger."
"Oh, I see."
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.
Kendrick went out with Maya and Mangku Marendra a couple of times to see the traditional dance performance and other Bali's exotic places. During his stay in Bali, Kendrick attempted to meditate more often.
The longer he attended the yoga class, the more he became calm. His mind was still filled with many thoughts, sometimes it traveled back and forth DC and Bali, mixed-up with his quest but then, it was lessened, until one day, he managed to break down his thoughts one by one. However, Kendrick's heart was still searching. He has become calmer but his yearning heart remained unanswered.
He was sitting in an open-air café, gazing at the beach, delighting the sunny weather, pondering.
God, maybe, this is not my path. It seems to be my friends' path of life and I haven't been satisfied yet.
Kendrick searched for his diary inside of his leather backpack, seized it out, and started to write.
God, I think I'm going to end my stay in Bali. Where should I go next? I'm still not able to feel You, the way the Mangku expressed in his words and eyes. Am I doing it wrong?
Well, maybe, I should take another road but where should I go?
Suddenly, his cell phone rang. He startled to hear the sound. It had been quite a while since he heard it ringing. Is something happening in my house in DC? Is it on fire? He frowned and rashly opened the flip.
"Hello? Professor Lovington?"
"Speaking. Who's this?"
"I'm Ahmed Badullah, your friend from the conference."
"Oh, yes. Of course, I remember you. How are you?" Kendrick's imagination ran into a tall man around of his age with a white turban, pointed nose, and trimmed beard.
"I'm fine. I heard from Mangku Ida Marendra that you are attending the meditation class."
Kendrick chuckled. "Yes, but I'm about to leave."
"So, have you found what you are looking for?"
"Hum…" Kendrick was hesitant. "I found the peace inside me but I haven't got my ultimate answers."
"Listen, I'm still in Bali and about to take a pilgrimage throughout Java Island. How about if you come along with me? I can go in company. I've rent a car."
Gee, could this be an answer from God? "Hum, okay. When will you leave?"
"Oh, great! I know you would say yes. I'm leaving on Monday."
"Two days from now? All right."
"Great. Pick you up at eleven?"
"I'll be ready. Thanks, Ahmed. See you."
Kendrick wore the beige clam-digger pants with a white cotton shirt. He stretched out his arms in front of him to examine his appearance and smiled.
I'm ready to start a new journey.
He walked slowly across his room, turned the doorknob, pulled a deep breath, and aimed to the receptionist at the front hall of the hotel waiting for Ahmed.
At eleven o'clock sharp, Kendrick saw a green landrover approaching the hotel. Ahmed jumped out of the car.
"Kendrick! Hi! How have you been?" He shook Kendrick's hands cheerfully. "Oh, this is Hamdan. He's from Java. He used to drive pilgrimages to the sacred places. Ahmed patted Hamdan's back who immediately gave a blushing gesture.
"Hi," Kendrick greeted him.
Hamdan was a skinny dark-haired man in his thirties with a heart-shaped face and friendly gesture. He bent his shoulders every time he walked passing the two men and rushed to close the door for them.
No one had bestowed him such a respect. "Does he have to do that?" Kendrick's eyebrows curled.
"It's his way of giving a respect. He considered us superior."
Kendrick would never imagine one of his students would do that to him.
"Well, well, all right then, if he feels convenient with it."
They drove a couple of hours to the harbor and took a ferryboat to Java Island.
"So, could you brief me on this journey?" The breeze teased his hair touching his soft face repetitively. He let the sliding window next to him open to get the ocean breeze penetrated inside the condensed cabin.
"We're going to Surabaya to the first stop of the nine shrines of the Sunans we're going to visit."
"I'm sorry, do you mind shedding a little light on the journey for me? What is a Sunan?"
"It's an Islamic title for the earliest Islam preachers in Indonesia. It means God's messenger."
"Oh, I see."
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.
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Lunch in Ubud
(Sequel article of Maya and Yoga)
Maya led Kendrick and Mangku Marendra to a new white modern car parked not far from the building.
"Nice car," Kendrick complimented it. He opened the front door for her.
"Oh, thank you." She showed her elegant smile.
After they were all in their seats, Marendra directed his eyes into the back compartment where Kendrick was sitting comfortably. "So, is there any specific place you have in mind?"
Kendrick pondered in brief. "I'm curious about a place called Ubud?"
"Sorry?" Marendra could not catch the name of the place Kendrick mentioned as he did it in the western pronunciation.
"I think Kendrick was talking about Ubud," Maya explained smiling. "My ex-husband used to call the place like that."
"Yes. I heard that it was a huge art village."
"All right." Maya put on the gear and the car started to race steadily.
Driving for an hour, Kendrick noticed that the Ubud streets were similar to the area by the Kuta Beach except that it was located on the highland. The surrounding countryside was greenish with sprawling terraced-rice fields along the rivers, convenient villages, and assorted hotels.
"Wow, it's a very nice place," Kendrick enthused. "Marendra, what if we have lunch first? Seeing interesting places has made me energetic and hungry."
They laughed. "All right. Let's go to the restaurant rows. There are plenty for you to choose. What food do you have in mind, Kendrick?" Marendra asked.
"Hum, let's just go with the traditional ones."
"Very nice."
Maya made a turn and parked the car on the side of the street. They stepped out strolling on the sidewalk.
Kendrick made his choice and they all entered into a cozy, semi-open air gallery café. The weather was good and sunny and white clouds were winging on the sky.
A welcoming waitress with a long wrapped-skirt and a white flower slipped behind her ear, greeted them, and handed the menu book. The restaurant served Indonesian, Balinese, and vegetarian food.
"Why don't you pick for me?" Kendrick spoke to Maya.
"All right. Do you have any forbidden food?"
Suddenly, Kendrick remembered that his new friends might not eat beef. Having read their minds, Marendra said, "How about if you take the mixed rice, the specialty from Bali? It's some white rice mixed with a complete range of food. You'll get spicy chicken, meat on skewers, vegetables, and chilies."
"All right. You make my mouth waters." He gazed at the waitress. "I'll take that."
Maya stepped in to make his order clear to the waitress.
Kendrick observed the paintings hanging attractively on the wall. "There are plenty of lotus flowers in Bali. Like there, in the painting, it also has a background setting of the lotus ponds. Does it have a specific meaning?"
"Oh yes," Marendra replied. "The lotus flower throne with its eight petals is the eight symbols of God's holy and supreme character."
"Please, enlighten me."
"First, the character of God is very fine like the atomic particles. Then, the weightlessness, He is lighter than the ether."
"Ether?"
"Yes, you know that ether was believed as the substance composing the heavenly bodies," Maya added.
"Oh, I see."
"And then He exists in our entire universe. He is God, the Almighty. There's no empty space and that everyplace is reachable by Him."
We can't escape from God. We can run but we can't hide from God when we are still alive or after we enter the eternity. Kendrick smiled in his heart. How can we? He is God.
"Do you mind sharing your thoughts?" Maya gazed at him.
Realizing that he was smiling to himself, Kendrick said, "I was just thinking that there's no hidden place from God."
"I see. Yes. I agree," she said. "That's why when I make peace with God and myself. I find the essence of my life regardless my outer situation."
"So, what's the fifth?"
"His wish will always be accomplished," Marendra said.
"God never fails," Kendrick added.
"True. He is the King of all, and above all, the prime ruler, the number one, and the ultimate. And then, He has the highest power. He controls over everything and exceeds everything. The last one, no body can oppose against His will. He is God, the omnipotence."
"Wow." Kendrick was speechless for a moment. "You have such a thorough understanding about Him."
"At the end, well, he is God. Who can ever be the judge of Him?" Marendra added.
Kendrick bent his head in awesomeness absorbing what his heart had already known but still struck by the fact every time it came up to the surface. Being reminded again with such bold statements, Kendrick's heart had been aching more to have an encounter with Him.
"There's more about Hinduism. They're not very complicated but at the end you'll have to find the resolute answers inside your heart and discover your own enlightenment." Marendra's voice became solemn and serene.
Suddenly Maya enthused, "Oh, there's our lunch."
The lunch, served with banana leafs, was spread on the wooden table.
Seeing the delicious food in front him, Kendrick smiled.
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.
Maya led Kendrick and Mangku Marendra to a new white modern car parked not far from the building.
"Nice car," Kendrick complimented it. He opened the front door for her.
"Oh, thank you." She showed her elegant smile.
After they were all in their seats, Marendra directed his eyes into the back compartment where Kendrick was sitting comfortably. "So, is there any specific place you have in mind?"
Kendrick pondered in brief. "I'm curious about a place called Ubud?"
"Sorry?" Marendra could not catch the name of the place Kendrick mentioned as he did it in the western pronunciation.
"I think Kendrick was talking about Ubud," Maya explained smiling. "My ex-husband used to call the place like that."
"Yes. I heard that it was a huge art village."
"All right." Maya put on the gear and the car started to race steadily.
Driving for an hour, Kendrick noticed that the Ubud streets were similar to the area by the Kuta Beach except that it was located on the highland. The surrounding countryside was greenish with sprawling terraced-rice fields along the rivers, convenient villages, and assorted hotels.
"Wow, it's a very nice place," Kendrick enthused. "Marendra, what if we have lunch first? Seeing interesting places has made me energetic and hungry."
They laughed. "All right. Let's go to the restaurant rows. There are plenty for you to choose. What food do you have in mind, Kendrick?" Marendra asked.
"Hum, let's just go with the traditional ones."
"Very nice."
Maya made a turn and parked the car on the side of the street. They stepped out strolling on the sidewalk.
Kendrick made his choice and they all entered into a cozy, semi-open air gallery café. The weather was good and sunny and white clouds were winging on the sky.
A welcoming waitress with a long wrapped-skirt and a white flower slipped behind her ear, greeted them, and handed the menu book. The restaurant served Indonesian, Balinese, and vegetarian food.
"Why don't you pick for me?" Kendrick spoke to Maya.
"All right. Do you have any forbidden food?"
Suddenly, Kendrick remembered that his new friends might not eat beef. Having read their minds, Marendra said, "How about if you take the mixed rice, the specialty from Bali? It's some white rice mixed with a complete range of food. You'll get spicy chicken, meat on skewers, vegetables, and chilies."
"All right. You make my mouth waters." He gazed at the waitress. "I'll take that."
Maya stepped in to make his order clear to the waitress.
Kendrick observed the paintings hanging attractively on the wall. "There are plenty of lotus flowers in Bali. Like there, in the painting, it also has a background setting of the lotus ponds. Does it have a specific meaning?"
"Oh yes," Marendra replied. "The lotus flower throne with its eight petals is the eight symbols of God's holy and supreme character."
"Please, enlighten me."
"First, the character of God is very fine like the atomic particles. Then, the weightlessness, He is lighter than the ether."
"Ether?"
"Yes, you know that ether was believed as the substance composing the heavenly bodies," Maya added.
"Oh, I see."
"And then He exists in our entire universe. He is God, the Almighty. There's no empty space and that everyplace is reachable by Him."
We can't escape from God. We can run but we can't hide from God when we are still alive or after we enter the eternity. Kendrick smiled in his heart. How can we? He is God.
"Do you mind sharing your thoughts?" Maya gazed at him.
Realizing that he was smiling to himself, Kendrick said, "I was just thinking that there's no hidden place from God."
"I see. Yes. I agree," she said. "That's why when I make peace with God and myself. I find the essence of my life regardless my outer situation."
"So, what's the fifth?"
"His wish will always be accomplished," Marendra said.
"God never fails," Kendrick added.
"True. He is the King of all, and above all, the prime ruler, the number one, and the ultimate. And then, He has the highest power. He controls over everything and exceeds everything. The last one, no body can oppose against His will. He is God, the omnipotence."
"Wow." Kendrick was speechless for a moment. "You have such a thorough understanding about Him."
"At the end, well, he is God. Who can ever be the judge of Him?" Marendra added.
Kendrick bent his head in awesomeness absorbing what his heart had already known but still struck by the fact every time it came up to the surface. Being reminded again with such bold statements, Kendrick's heart had been aching more to have an encounter with Him.
"There's more about Hinduism. They're not very complicated but at the end you'll have to find the resolute answers inside your heart and discover your own enlightenment." Marendra's voice became solemn and serene.
Suddenly Maya enthused, "Oh, there's our lunch."
The lunch, served with banana leafs, was spread on the wooden table.
Seeing the delicious food in front him, Kendrick smiled.
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.
Saturday, March 1, 2008
Maya and Yoga
(Sequel article of 'Contemplation')
Kendrick Lovington was in his hotel room getting ready for his meditation class. He had changed his sleeping wear into white cotton trousers and long sleeve. He stared at his reflection in the mirror.
"Okay, be calm and relax," he said to himself.
He grabbed his leather backpack neatly sat on the chair, inserted the key into the deadbolts, pulled the door open, and pushed it back slowly.
Kendrick walked out and passed the beautiful garden, the swimming pool, and hailed a taxi.
Kendrick stared at a gray brick-mixed stone building. He saw a pile of brochures spreading on the desk covered with a green-checkered tablecloth before the entrance door and took one. As he paced inside the red brick door into a big hall, he read a short note about the essence of yoga.
He put the brochure inside his brown backpack. Okay, I'm ready to be united with the divine, he said silently to himself.
He saw a middle-aged woman having long hair and serene look with a touch of eastern exoticism approaching him.
Wow, she's pretty! he commented inside the heart.
"Hi, I'm Maya," she introduced herself and walked him to the corner hall where some other students were sitting crossing their legs.
Kendrick placed his backpack on the side of the big wall and sat down on the floor with the others.
They began the session. He knew that he was supposed to listen to the silence. After a certain stage, his mind would be still and then he should find what he was looking for.
Kendrick could not concentrate at the first meeting. His mind was loaded with too many jumbled questions from important things until rubbish statements popping up in his mind.
Have I brushed my teeth?
Oh, gee, the lady in front of me is so pretty. Gosh, is it that all these times I couldn't get attracted to women because I'm looking at the wrong places? Could it be that my soul mate is in Asia?
Golly! Golly! Kendrick! What are you thinking? Why is your mind wandering around that far?
I'm supposed to be silent. He squinted. The painting on the wall is very nice.
Look, how serene she seems now!
God, can I be still? Why am I so restless? Oh… take a breath, slowly and slowly.
Hmm… where should I go after this?
This place is so full! Look, there are many young people!
He heard Maya telling them to be still and listened to the inner voice. Once again, he tried but failed.
After the meditation class was over, Maya approached him.
"What do you think about the session? Is this the first time you follow a meditation course?"
"Yes, it is. Well, my mind seemed to be full and I get to admit that it was quite hard."
Maya nodded. "I know. Meditation could be that way for some people. Take it slow," she encouraged him.
"Yeah, I think I will." Kendrick felt he was blushing in front of her. "How could you do that? I mean, you looked so serene back there."
"I have found myself and yielded my life completely to God. Otherwise, you know, with all my daily problems, I might end up crazy." She circled her forefinger next to her temple and gave a soft smile. Her eyes were shining when she continued, "After being enlightened, I start living my life differently."
Kendrick gazed at her interestingly. "Listen, I'm meeting Mangku Marendra in about a minute or so. Do you want to come with us for lunch?"
"You're meeting him here? All right, then. Thanks for the nice offer," her face was brightened.
"My pleasure." With the tip of his eyes, Kendrick noticed Mangku Marendra was walking toward them. "Oh, here he comes."
Marendra smiled and greeted them. "Hi, Maya, Kendrick." Marendra turned his head to Kendrick. "So, how's your first meditation class?"
"I still have to learn a lot," Kendrick said honestly.
Marendra opened an understanding smile. "It takes time. Don't worry."
Kendrick grinned. "Maya is telling me the same."
"Is she?" Marendra gazed at her.
"I've invited Maya to have lunch with us," Kendrick told him.
"Oh, sure. Let's go then."
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.
Kendrick Lovington was in his hotel room getting ready for his meditation class. He had changed his sleeping wear into white cotton trousers and long sleeve. He stared at his reflection in the mirror.
"Okay, be calm and relax," he said to himself.
He grabbed his leather backpack neatly sat on the chair, inserted the key into the deadbolts, pulled the door open, and pushed it back slowly.
Kendrick walked out and passed the beautiful garden, the swimming pool, and hailed a taxi.
Kendrick stared at a gray brick-mixed stone building. He saw a pile of brochures spreading on the desk covered with a green-checkered tablecloth before the entrance door and took one. As he paced inside the red brick door into a big hall, he read a short note about the essence of yoga.
He put the brochure inside his brown backpack. Okay, I'm ready to be united with the divine, he said silently to himself.
He saw a middle-aged woman having long hair and serene look with a touch of eastern exoticism approaching him.
Wow, she's pretty! he commented inside the heart.
"Hi, I'm Maya," she introduced herself and walked him to the corner hall where some other students were sitting crossing their legs.
Kendrick placed his backpack on the side of the big wall and sat down on the floor with the others.
They began the session. He knew that he was supposed to listen to the silence. After a certain stage, his mind would be still and then he should find what he was looking for.
Kendrick could not concentrate at the first meeting. His mind was loaded with too many jumbled questions from important things until rubbish statements popping up in his mind.
Have I brushed my teeth?
Oh, gee, the lady in front of me is so pretty. Gosh, is it that all these times I couldn't get attracted to women because I'm looking at the wrong places? Could it be that my soul mate is in Asia?
Golly! Golly! Kendrick! What are you thinking? Why is your mind wandering around that far?
I'm supposed to be silent. He squinted. The painting on the wall is very nice.
Look, how serene she seems now!
God, can I be still? Why am I so restless? Oh… take a breath, slowly and slowly.
Hmm… where should I go after this?
This place is so full! Look, there are many young people!
He heard Maya telling them to be still and listened to the inner voice. Once again, he tried but failed.
After the meditation class was over, Maya approached him.
"What do you think about the session? Is this the first time you follow a meditation course?"
"Yes, it is. Well, my mind seemed to be full and I get to admit that it was quite hard."
Maya nodded. "I know. Meditation could be that way for some people. Take it slow," she encouraged him.
"Yeah, I think I will." Kendrick felt he was blushing in front of her. "How could you do that? I mean, you looked so serene back there."
"I have found myself and yielded my life completely to God. Otherwise, you know, with all my daily problems, I might end up crazy." She circled her forefinger next to her temple and gave a soft smile. Her eyes were shining when she continued, "After being enlightened, I start living my life differently."
Kendrick gazed at her interestingly. "Listen, I'm meeting Mangku Marendra in about a minute or so. Do you want to come with us for lunch?"
"You're meeting him here? All right, then. Thanks for the nice offer," her face was brightened.
"My pleasure." With the tip of his eyes, Kendrick noticed Mangku Marendra was walking toward them. "Oh, here he comes."
Marendra smiled and greeted them. "Hi, Maya, Kendrick." Marendra turned his head to Kendrick. "So, how's your first meditation class?"
"I still have to learn a lot," Kendrick said honestly.
Marendra opened an understanding smile. "It takes time. Don't worry."
Kendrick grinned. "Maya is telling me the same."
"Is she?" Marendra gazed at her.
"I've invited Maya to have lunch with us," Kendrick told him.
"Oh, sure. Let's go then."
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, February 19, 2008
Contemplation
(Sequel article of A Conversation with a Mangku)
Kendrick strolled along the sandy beach, sat on a rugged chair, and mused over his life.
Am I on my way to the moksa? Can I say that? Or does it only belong to the Hindus?
If I could only find my moksa because I'm Hindu, what about many people who are searching for God? Do they have their own practices which are at the end will only lead into another term of moksa or are they different? But, if there are many different concepts, there wouldn't be many of You, right? There is only one God, the Creator of the Universe. He mused.
"Oh God, what should I do? Maybe I should seriously begin my meditation. Things are just getting more confusing," he mumbled.
The more Kendrick thought about everything, the more perplexed he became.
Kendrick gazed at a modest woman selling the beach clothes with a bamboo basket and a small child wearing humble clothes. He was dazzled.
There were many differences in terms of wealth. Some people were very poor and others were amazingly rich. Why are there so many differences in our life?
Why do some people deal with so many difficulties in this mortal coil when others seemingly live their lives easily? Is it karma? Or is there another reason? Did some people come to this vain world destined to suffer? Can they change their destiny? Is it we who really should decide our own future or is it merely in God's hands?
If it's solely in God's hands, then what about our effort? Will it be justified that people taking too much leisure and simply bestowing their faith in God's will?
All right, all right. I know the term ora et labora. Pray and work. So, it must be the combination of two. But then, what can we do if we have already prayed hard, burned ourselves out but don't get an answer on what we are looking for? He pondered.
Kendrick looked over the moving ridge on the ocean. He inhaled the air deeply and took out his diary from his brown backpack.
God, in my search for You, so far I only became more baffled. I knew that not all people were confused like me. I could see from the Mangku's radiant eyes when talking about faith that he had found the ultimate essence of his life but God, I'm still not convinced. My heart was still trembling inside and I took that as a sign that I haven't found what I was looking for.
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.
Kendrick strolled along the sandy beach, sat on a rugged chair, and mused over his life.
Am I on my way to the moksa? Can I say that? Or does it only belong to the Hindus?
If I could only find my moksa because I'm Hindu, what about many people who are searching for God? Do they have their own practices which are at the end will only lead into another term of moksa or are they different? But, if there are many different concepts, there wouldn't be many of You, right? There is only one God, the Creator of the Universe. He mused.
"Oh God, what should I do? Maybe I should seriously begin my meditation. Things are just getting more confusing," he mumbled.
The more Kendrick thought about everything, the more perplexed he became.
Kendrick gazed at a modest woman selling the beach clothes with a bamboo basket and a small child wearing humble clothes. He was dazzled.
There were many differences in terms of wealth. Some people were very poor and others were amazingly rich. Why are there so many differences in our life?
Why do some people deal with so many difficulties in this mortal coil when others seemingly live their lives easily? Is it karma? Or is there another reason? Did some people come to this vain world destined to suffer? Can they change their destiny? Is it we who really should decide our own future or is it merely in God's hands?
If it's solely in God's hands, then what about our effort? Will it be justified that people taking too much leisure and simply bestowing their faith in God's will?
All right, all right. I know the term ora et labora. Pray and work. So, it must be the combination of two. But then, what can we do if we have already prayed hard, burned ourselves out but don't get an answer on what we are looking for? He pondered.
Kendrick looked over the moving ridge on the ocean. He inhaled the air deeply and took out his diary from his brown backpack.
God, in my search for You, so far I only became more baffled. I knew that not all people were confused like me. I could see from the Mangku's radiant eyes when talking about faith that he had found the ultimate essence of his life but God, I'm still not convinced. My heart was still trembling inside and I took that as a sign that I haven't found what I was looking for.
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.
Monday, February 11, 2008
A Conversation with a Mangku
(Sequel article of New Friends)
Meeting in front of Starbucks, Kendrick Lovington and the Mangku walked along the Kuta Beach, Bali. The beautiful panorama before them infiltrated fresh and relaxing sensation. They watched people water-skiing, swimming, playing on the beach, and shouting in pleasure exchanging their bliss. Some people were cheerful with many activities involving body movement and others just sat leisurely under the big shelters or giant colored-umbrellas drinking their beer and coffee, enjoying the lovely scenery and the hot weather.
"It's a nice place you have here," Kendrick remarked.
Ida Marendra, the mangku, curved his lips shooting a sweet smile. "Yes, this place is blessed."
They walked into a café in wood concept, sitting facing the beach. The Mangku ordered a glass of fruit juice while Kendrick asked for iced white coffee.
"So, how can I assist you?" Ida Marendra asked, smiling sympathetically at him.
"I've read a lot. You know that I'm teaching about human beings and their minds. Yet, somehow, the deeper I went into myself, the more I knew that something was missing," he paused momentarily and gazed at the splendid view in front of him. "Would you share your spiritual experience with me?"
"I'm living my life, reaching out for what we called moksa. It is a state of freedom, from karma, birth, death, and suffering on the Earth."
"And have you found your freedom?" Kendrick tasted his coffee.
The Mangku's eyes shone in happiness and he said, "All of us are going to reach it. We divided the process into four paths. The first one is keeping praying whole-heartedly. God is near the people who are seeking and searching for Him and His will in life. The second one is doing good deeds without expecting anything in return. We simply do it to serve others and for the kindness of mankind."
Kendrick grinned. "Guess, the last two paths are rather difficult to do in our limitation as human, aren't they? We tend to have a self-fulfillment tendency, if you don't want to call it selfishness."
"Yeah, that's the body inclination," Marendra added.
"That's about our deeds. When we've already received many blessings, in terms of material, sometimes we find it's difficult to lose our possessions and share it with others especially to ones we don't know. We consider them as ours. After tasting some richness, we simply can't stand being poor anymore." He paused momentarily and then said, "I guess, it's very human."
"From my experience, the hardest thing is to give up something or someone you love," he said.
Kendrick sighed. "So true," then, continued, "What are the other paths?"
"It's the philosophy. In short, it is said that every existing thing; material or immaterial is temporary. Nothing is absolute except for the Source."
Having read it before, Kendrick nodded.
"And the last one is through yoga."
"The concentration of the mind."
"Yes, it emphasizes the self control of our being."
Thinking he might find the enlightenment during a meditation, Kendrick said, "I'd like to join one. Do you have any recommendation?"
"I'll give you the address and map for the location." Marendra drank his mixed tropical fruit juice.
"Sure. I'll certainly go." He sucked his iced coffee from the straw. "I believe you have the five foundations of faith if I'm not mistaken?"
"You read much, don't you?" Ida Marendra smiled approvingly.
"Yeah, but reading is not the same with experiencing, and having been living it through is not the same with believing. Well, you know believing is yet far from practicing."
"Yeah," Ida Marendra said slowly. "If people just spend more of their time nourishing their inner health, the world would be so much happier, don't you think so?"
Kendrick chuckled. "So, do you believe in karma?"
"Yes, that's one from the five foundations of faith, the faith to God. Secondly, a belief that there is a part of His particles living among us."
"Oh, I see."
"Then, there is karma. I believe you've known about it already," the Mangku stated.
"Yes, good deeds will bring you good results or the contrary. I believe that, either. Practically, why do we want to hurt other people, anyway," he said rhetorically. "And then, the reincarnation?"
"Yes, the rebirth of the soul into this world or a higher place."
Kendrick nodded in agreement.
"The last one is moksa."
"That's the end of the spiritual journey."
"Correct." Ida Marendra opened a wide smile.
They took a couple of deep breaths in silence. Then, Ida Marendra asked, "So, what's your next plan?"
Kendrick gave a wide smile. "First thing first. I'll join the meditation class."
"Sure." Ida Marendra wrote an address and phone number in the rustic paper-napkin, and handed it to him. "Do you want to be picked up?"
"No, no." Kendrick waved his palms to the air as a gesture of polite refusal. "I'll be fine. I'll meet you there?"
Ida Marendra nodded.
Kendrick asked for the bill and they stepped out into the pavement together passing by many people of various ages. Most of them were in drips covering their tanned skin from the ocean water.
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.
Meeting in front of Starbucks, Kendrick Lovington and the Mangku walked along the Kuta Beach, Bali. The beautiful panorama before them infiltrated fresh and relaxing sensation. They watched people water-skiing, swimming, playing on the beach, and shouting in pleasure exchanging their bliss. Some people were cheerful with many activities involving body movement and others just sat leisurely under the big shelters or giant colored-umbrellas drinking their beer and coffee, enjoying the lovely scenery and the hot weather.
"It's a nice place you have here," Kendrick remarked.
Ida Marendra, the mangku, curved his lips shooting a sweet smile. "Yes, this place is blessed."
They walked into a café in wood concept, sitting facing the beach. The Mangku ordered a glass of fruit juice while Kendrick asked for iced white coffee.
"So, how can I assist you?" Ida Marendra asked, smiling sympathetically at him.
"I've read a lot. You know that I'm teaching about human beings and their minds. Yet, somehow, the deeper I went into myself, the more I knew that something was missing," he paused momentarily and gazed at the splendid view in front of him. "Would you share your spiritual experience with me?"
"I'm living my life, reaching out for what we called moksa. It is a state of freedom, from karma, birth, death, and suffering on the Earth."
"And have you found your freedom?" Kendrick tasted his coffee.
The Mangku's eyes shone in happiness and he said, "All of us are going to reach it. We divided the process into four paths. The first one is keeping praying whole-heartedly. God is near the people who are seeking and searching for Him and His will in life. The second one is doing good deeds without expecting anything in return. We simply do it to serve others and for the kindness of mankind."
Kendrick grinned. "Guess, the last two paths are rather difficult to do in our limitation as human, aren't they? We tend to have a self-fulfillment tendency, if you don't want to call it selfishness."
"Yeah, that's the body inclination," Marendra added.
"That's about our deeds. When we've already received many blessings, in terms of material, sometimes we find it's difficult to lose our possessions and share it with others especially to ones we don't know. We consider them as ours. After tasting some richness, we simply can't stand being poor anymore." He paused momentarily and then said, "I guess, it's very human."
"From my experience, the hardest thing is to give up something or someone you love," he said.
Kendrick sighed. "So true," then, continued, "What are the other paths?"
"It's the philosophy. In short, it is said that every existing thing; material or immaterial is temporary. Nothing is absolute except for the Source."
Having read it before, Kendrick nodded.
"And the last one is through yoga."
"The concentration of the mind."
"Yes, it emphasizes the self control of our being."
Thinking he might find the enlightenment during a meditation, Kendrick said, "I'd like to join one. Do you have any recommendation?"
"I'll give you the address and map for the location." Marendra drank his mixed tropical fruit juice.
"Sure. I'll certainly go." He sucked his iced coffee from the straw. "I believe you have the five foundations of faith if I'm not mistaken?"
"You read much, don't you?" Ida Marendra smiled approvingly.
"Yeah, but reading is not the same with experiencing, and having been living it through is not the same with believing. Well, you know believing is yet far from practicing."
"Yeah," Ida Marendra said slowly. "If people just spend more of their time nourishing their inner health, the world would be so much happier, don't you think so?"
Kendrick chuckled. "So, do you believe in karma?"
"Yes, that's one from the five foundations of faith, the faith to God. Secondly, a belief that there is a part of His particles living among us."
"Oh, I see."
"Then, there is karma. I believe you've known about it already," the Mangku stated.
"Yes, good deeds will bring you good results or the contrary. I believe that, either. Practically, why do we want to hurt other people, anyway," he said rhetorically. "And then, the reincarnation?"
"Yes, the rebirth of the soul into this world or a higher place."
Kendrick nodded in agreement.
"The last one is moksa."
"That's the end of the spiritual journey."
"Correct." Ida Marendra opened a wide smile.
They took a couple of deep breaths in silence. Then, Ida Marendra asked, "So, what's your next plan?"
Kendrick gave a wide smile. "First thing first. I'll join the meditation class."
"Sure." Ida Marendra wrote an address and phone number in the rustic paper-napkin, and handed it to him. "Do you want to be picked up?"
"No, no." Kendrick waved his palms to the air as a gesture of polite refusal. "I'll be fine. I'll meet you there?"
Ida Marendra nodded.
Kendrick asked for the bill and they stepped out into the pavement together passing by many people of various ages. Most of them were in drips covering their tanned skin from the ocean water.
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, February 3, 2008
About
Damien Dematra is a novelist, writer, painter, and photographer.
Since his childhood, he had traveled extensively.
He studied religion, philosophy, fine-art, photography, business, finance, and politics.
He won numerous international awards and medals in his respective fields.
He has a mission of bridging the relationships between mankind and God in a personal way despite the differences in religions, belief-systems, and cultures.
He can be contacted at info@damiendematra.com
New Friends
(Sequel article of Where are You God?)
Having plenty of time on the plane, Kendrick pulled out his new small diary. On the first page was a brochure of his destination and he read it again for the tenth times:
Bali is an island between Java and Lombok Island with the vast majority in Hindu. It is famous for its artworks and music and considered to be number one for tourist attraction destination in Indonesia.
“Hi, is this your first time to Indonesia?”
Kendrick squinted at a friendly young man sitting next to him. He had trimmed dark hair with welcoming black eyes and a pair of eyeglasses in silvery frame. From his outer appearance, Kendrick knew that he was an Asian man.
“Yes, it is,” Kendrick answered politely, “And how about you? Are you from Indonesia?” He tried to prolong the conversation.
“Yes, I’m from Bali,” the young man replied. “I’m a university student.” He studied Kendrick’s profile guessing his new acquaintance’s job. He guessed him right.
“Oh, really? I’m a psychology professor. I’m on a long leave,” he paused a moment, then continued. “So, tell me about the place!”
“Well, it depends on your interest. Are you going to stay long?”
“I don’t know exactly. I’m attending a three-day conference and then, well, I guess, I’ll just have to follow my instinct.”
His eyes widened. “Oh, I’m Putu Ray by the way,” he extended his hands.
“I’m Kendrick Lovington,” he replied offering his hand.
“Bali is a superb island. You shall like it. It has sacred nuance of religious aura.”
Kendrick’s face was wreathed in smiles. “That’s exactly what I’m looking for.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, you’ll come to the right place, then. Bali is an exotic island with the depth understanding of God. You’ll also love the beaches. It’s a melting pot between the west and the east.”
“Yes, I surely will.”
“And, hum, you’ll definitely need to change your suit there,” Putu remarked observing his conventional clothes.
Kendrick smiled shyly. “I guess, I will.”
After being on the plane for almost a full day long, the plane finally landed in Denpasar, Bali. Kendrick stretched out his numb legs, said good bye to his companion, and hailed for a taxi.
He entered into a private resort where he was warmly welcomed. It was rather quiet with a shady green garden in the center, next to the restaurant, and a medium-sized swimming pool.
Soon after checking in, Kendrick changed into the creamy pants with long-sleeved white cotton shirt, getting ready for his very first start journey. He strolled along the sidewalk of the streets.
It was a sunny day and warm breeze greeted his pale skin. Almost everyone in the street wore beach-suits and cotton garments.
The streets were full of small stores selling many types of merchandise; clothing, souvenirs, and metal works. The cozy ambiance of semi-outdoor cafés straggled between the stores.
Kendrick bought some T-shirts and long cotton-motif-pants and then ambled at the streets enjoying the new scent of his life, spending more than half of his day, and sat leisurely on a semi-outdoor café reading a book.
On the next day, Kendrick attended the conference.
He entered the huge ballroom with white tablecloths and comfortable red chairs lining up tidily. He walked into an empty seat in the center next to a white turbaned man.
“Hi, is this seat taken?” Kendrick opened the conversation politely.
“Oh, no, no. Go ahead.” He gave a wide smile to Kendrick. “Hi, I’m Ahmed Badullah.”
“Kendrick Lovington.”
“Coming alone?” Ahmed asked him.
“Yes.”
“Religion is my passion.”
Kendrick beamed. “Same as here.”
“Excuse me.” Their ongoing conversation was interrupted by a white-dressed man in a white cotton toupee. He looked modest and warm with black eyes and tanned skin.
“Hi,” Kendrick greeted. He noticed him secretly. He assumed the man was around his age.
The man took a seat beside him.
“Hi, I’m Ida Marendra,” he introduced himself, and they delivered their warm handshakes.
They paused for a while.
Kendrick reached the inside part of his backpack. Ugh, what’s the word for the Hinduism leader in Bali? I’ve written it down in my diary. He grabbed his white soft leather book, opened it quickly, and fingered the lines.
Aha. Here it is! he said inwardly.
Kendrick turned his head to the direction of where Marendra was sitting. “Are, are you a Mangku?” he asked.
The man nodded smiling. “Yes. Why?”
“Well, I’m interested in Hinduism, and hum, actually I’m in search for God.”
“Oh, really?”
Well, maybe we can get together after the conference is over.”
“Oh, sure!”
“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen,” the moderator opened the speech commencing the conference. All participants paid their attention to the stage.
During the lunch break, they sat by each other having fried-rice with chicken and shrimp chips.
“So, what do you do?” Kendrick took a spoon of his rice.
“I’m a businessman.”
“Oh, I see. Where you from?”
“I’m from Dubai.”
Kendrick chewed up his food. “Oh, I believe it’s a beautiful country.”
Ahmed grinned. “Indeed. Thank you.”
“How long will you be staying in Bali?” Ida Marendra asked.
“I’m still having to do some business after the conference. Maybe I’ll stay for two weeks or so.”
“Oh, really?”
They continued talking and became close friends during the seminar.
Author: Damien Dematra
He is a novelist, 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.
Having plenty of time on the plane, Kendrick pulled out his new small diary. On the first page was a brochure of his destination and he read it again for the tenth times:
Bali is an island between Java and Lombok Island with the vast majority in Hindu. It is famous for its artworks and music and considered to be number one for tourist attraction destination in Indonesia.
“Hi, is this your first time to Indonesia?”
Kendrick squinted at a friendly young man sitting next to him. He had trimmed dark hair with welcoming black eyes and a pair of eyeglasses in silvery frame. From his outer appearance, Kendrick knew that he was an Asian man.
“Yes, it is,” Kendrick answered politely, “And how about you? Are you from Indonesia?” He tried to prolong the conversation.
“Yes, I’m from Bali,” the young man replied. “I’m a university student.” He studied Kendrick’s profile guessing his new acquaintance’s job. He guessed him right.
“Oh, really? I’m a psychology professor. I’m on a long leave,” he paused a moment, then continued. “So, tell me about the place!”
“Well, it depends on your interest. Are you going to stay long?”
“I don’t know exactly. I’m attending a three-day conference and then, well, I guess, I’ll just have to follow my instinct.”
His eyes widened. “Oh, I’m Putu Ray by the way,” he extended his hands.
“I’m Kendrick Lovington,” he replied offering his hand.
“Bali is a superb island. You shall like it. It has sacred nuance of religious aura.”
Kendrick’s face was wreathed in smiles. “That’s exactly what I’m looking for.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, you’ll come to the right place, then. Bali is an exotic island with the depth understanding of God. You’ll also love the beaches. It’s a melting pot between the west and the east.”
“Yes, I surely will.”
“And, hum, you’ll definitely need to change your suit there,” Putu remarked observing his conventional clothes.
Kendrick smiled shyly. “I guess, I will.”
After being on the plane for almost a full day long, the plane finally landed in Denpasar, Bali. Kendrick stretched out his numb legs, said good bye to his companion, and hailed for a taxi.
He entered into a private resort where he was warmly welcomed. It was rather quiet with a shady green garden in the center, next to the restaurant, and a medium-sized swimming pool.
Soon after checking in, Kendrick changed into the creamy pants with long-sleeved white cotton shirt, getting ready for his very first start journey. He strolled along the sidewalk of the streets.
It was a sunny day and warm breeze greeted his pale skin. Almost everyone in the street wore beach-suits and cotton garments.
The streets were full of small stores selling many types of merchandise; clothing, souvenirs, and metal works. The cozy ambiance of semi-outdoor cafés straggled between the stores.
Kendrick bought some T-shirts and long cotton-motif-pants and then ambled at the streets enjoying the new scent of his life, spending more than half of his day, and sat leisurely on a semi-outdoor café reading a book.
On the next day, Kendrick attended the conference.
He entered the huge ballroom with white tablecloths and comfortable red chairs lining up tidily. He walked into an empty seat in the center next to a white turbaned man.
“Hi, is this seat taken?” Kendrick opened the conversation politely.
“Oh, no, no. Go ahead.” He gave a wide smile to Kendrick. “Hi, I’m Ahmed Badullah.”
“Kendrick Lovington.”
“Coming alone?” Ahmed asked him.
“Yes.”
“Religion is my passion.”
Kendrick beamed. “Same as here.”
“Excuse me.” Their ongoing conversation was interrupted by a white-dressed man in a white cotton toupee. He looked modest and warm with black eyes and tanned skin.
“Hi,” Kendrick greeted. He noticed him secretly. He assumed the man was around his age.
The man took a seat beside him.
“Hi, I’m Ida Marendra,” he introduced himself, and they delivered their warm handshakes.
They paused for a while.
Kendrick reached the inside part of his backpack. Ugh, what’s the word for the Hinduism leader in Bali? I’ve written it down in my diary. He grabbed his white soft leather book, opened it quickly, and fingered the lines.
Aha. Here it is! he said inwardly.
Kendrick turned his head to the direction of where Marendra was sitting. “Are, are you a Mangku?” he asked.
The man nodded smiling. “Yes. Why?”
“Well, I’m interested in Hinduism, and hum, actually I’m in search for God.”
“Oh, really?”
Well, maybe we can get together after the conference is over.”
“Oh, sure!”
“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen,” the moderator opened the speech commencing the conference. All participants paid their attention to the stage.
During the lunch break, they sat by each other having fried-rice with chicken and shrimp chips.
“So, what do you do?” Kendrick took a spoon of his rice.
“I’m a businessman.”
“Oh, I see. Where you from?”
“I’m from Dubai.”
Kendrick chewed up his food. “Oh, I believe it’s a beautiful country.”
Ahmed grinned. “Indeed. Thank you.”
“How long will you be staying in Bali?” Ida Marendra asked.
“I’m still having to do some business after the conference. Maybe I’ll stay for two weeks or so.”
“Oh, really?”
They continued talking and became close friends during the seminar.
Author: Damien Dematra
He is a novelist, 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.
Where are You God?
Kendrick Lovington gave a last look to his study room. His travel-bags stood up neatly next to his feet. The comfortable wooden room was exquisite with a decorated red carpet spread on the center, a large oak table, a big leather chair, and a big red couch worn out of frequent use by the fireplace across the wall cabinets filled up with journals, essays, psychological and religious books. The place had been his ‘hiding cave’ for his private obsession in searching for the human understanding, truth, and God.
Enough, he thought. I’ve been reading many books but I’m still not satisfied. I’ll be in quest for the journey of searching for God. My heart is still yearning for truth. There should be an answer somehow, somewhere in this world and I have to find it before closing my eyes for the last time.
He noticed his table, which was always, stacked with papers of his college students but now empty. He had marked and distributed all the exams. He smiled thinking about the university where he had taught for fifteen years. All his colleagues of the Psychology Department wished him best luck for his journey.
Kendrick reached for the brass handle of his study room, pulled it softly, and closed the hefty panel door. With a brown leather backpack on his back, he lowered himself to seize on his two bags; one big suitcase and a medium-sized handbag, and pulled them into the living room.
Putting his bags down, he reached for the brown checker-patterned jacket on the coat hanger and wore them. He gripped the brown-grayish flannel cap and stood in front of the mirror observing his reflection.
He was of medium height, a white-haired man of forty-five years old with thick mustache and soft grayish eyes. His square face had soft fair complexion. Kendrick Lovington would not fit the category of modern look for he possessed a rather conventional style.
He had not got married yet. Kendrick enjoyed having good companionship but he never really knew whether he had ever fallen in love and at the same time, he put too much consideration on everything.
My life is definitely going to change, he thought.
He gave an encouraging smile at himself and put his cap down.
A sound of car engine stopped in front of his house and honked twice.
“It’s your cab, Mr. Lovington.” Her house cleaner suddenly turned up in the living room. She dried her hands with a white napkin, stared at her master, and thought silently; some people said that the more you learnt about God, the more you knew of nothing.
“Okay, please keep the house clean, will you? Bye, now,” he said politely to her and headed to the cab waiting for him impatiently.
On the way to Dulles International Airport, the taxi driver, a middle-aged guy with black thick mustache and a toothpick on his mouth was rumbling. “So, you leavin’ town, huh?”
“Oh yes, yes. I’m leaving for Bali.” Kendrick took a pleasure in having a conversation with others.
“Where’s that?” The driver raised one of his thick eyebrows peeping at him from the rear mirror.
Kendrick smiled and said, “It’s in Indonesia, South East Asia.”
“Huh, so far away? What you doin’ there?”
“I’m attending a conference.”
“Sounds biggie, huh?” He pressed the honked hard, long enough to deafen Kendrick’s ears as he saw a car blocking the road and muttered to himself. At last, the car in front of him moved forward. Feeling bored, he continued speaking. “So, what conference?”
“It’s about the psychological perceptions in Asian culture and religion.”
He whistled.
“I’m in search for God,” Kendrick added calmly.
The cab driver almost pushed the brake metal accidentally. “Gee. You think you gonna find Him there?”
“Well, I hope. There must be a place to start on,” he smiled confidently.
“Huh, hum. Can’t you just find Him here, in DC?” he threw his toothpick away.
“I’ve read many books about Asia. Their multi-racial society with many different unique cultures and religions attract me.” Then he continued speaking to himself mentally, just hope I’ll be enlightened and find the answer I’ve been looking for if I finally go out of my cave.
The cab driver shrugged his shoulders. “Well, all right, then. Good luck for you! Hope that you find what you lookin’ for.”
Author: Damien Dematra
He is a novelist, 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.
Enough, he thought. I’ve been reading many books but I’m still not satisfied. I’ll be in quest for the journey of searching for God. My heart is still yearning for truth. There should be an answer somehow, somewhere in this world and I have to find it before closing my eyes for the last time.
He noticed his table, which was always, stacked with papers of his college students but now empty. He had marked and distributed all the exams. He smiled thinking about the university where he had taught for fifteen years. All his colleagues of the Psychology Department wished him best luck for his journey.
Kendrick reached for the brass handle of his study room, pulled it softly, and closed the hefty panel door. With a brown leather backpack on his back, he lowered himself to seize on his two bags; one big suitcase and a medium-sized handbag, and pulled them into the living room.
Putting his bags down, he reached for the brown checker-patterned jacket on the coat hanger and wore them. He gripped the brown-grayish flannel cap and stood in front of the mirror observing his reflection.
He was of medium height, a white-haired man of forty-five years old with thick mustache and soft grayish eyes. His square face had soft fair complexion. Kendrick Lovington would not fit the category of modern look for he possessed a rather conventional style.
He had not got married yet. Kendrick enjoyed having good companionship but he never really knew whether he had ever fallen in love and at the same time, he put too much consideration on everything.
My life is definitely going to change, he thought.
He gave an encouraging smile at himself and put his cap down.
A sound of car engine stopped in front of his house and honked twice.
“It’s your cab, Mr. Lovington.” Her house cleaner suddenly turned up in the living room. She dried her hands with a white napkin, stared at her master, and thought silently; some people said that the more you learnt about God, the more you knew of nothing.
“Okay, please keep the house clean, will you? Bye, now,” he said politely to her and headed to the cab waiting for him impatiently.
On the way to Dulles International Airport, the taxi driver, a middle-aged guy with black thick mustache and a toothpick on his mouth was rumbling. “So, you leavin’ town, huh?”
“Oh yes, yes. I’m leaving for Bali.” Kendrick took a pleasure in having a conversation with others.
“Where’s that?” The driver raised one of his thick eyebrows peeping at him from the rear mirror.
Kendrick smiled and said, “It’s in Indonesia, South East Asia.”
“Huh, so far away? What you doin’ there?”
“I’m attending a conference.”
“Sounds biggie, huh?” He pressed the honked hard, long enough to deafen Kendrick’s ears as he saw a car blocking the road and muttered to himself. At last, the car in front of him moved forward. Feeling bored, he continued speaking. “So, what conference?”
“It’s about the psychological perceptions in Asian culture and religion.”
He whistled.
“I’m in search for God,” Kendrick added calmly.
The cab driver almost pushed the brake metal accidentally. “Gee. You think you gonna find Him there?”
“Well, I hope. There must be a place to start on,” he smiled confidently.
“Huh, hum. Can’t you just find Him here, in DC?” he threw his toothpick away.
“I’ve read many books about Asia. Their multi-racial society with many different unique cultures and religions attract me.” Then he continued speaking to himself mentally, just hope I’ll be enlightened and find the answer I’ve been looking for if I finally go out of my cave.
The cab driver shrugged his shoulders. “Well, all right, then. Good luck for you! Hope that you find what you lookin’ for.”
Author: Damien Dematra
He is a novelist, 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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