---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
On the way from Johore Bahru to
Penang, we were to stop over in Seremban, my mother’s hometown. I do not know
for sure if my parents had pre-planned this or not, but reaching Seremban it
was decided that I would be left in the care of a widowed aunt. I do not quite remember about the other kids
in the family and so since I cannot recall having them around, I would assume that
they were “privileged” enough to have travelled along with my parents. I
remember now that many years after that incident, the subject of my staying
with my relatives was raised and it was briefly mentioned that that was purely
because they (my parents) were going to a new place and I, being the youngest
then, should not be taken along as it could have been traumatic for me. I somehow suspect that my mom, uncles, and
aunts had decided that I should stay behind to keep from getting into my father’s
way. [Actually – this was later verified in a
conversation with my mom – years after I had written this paper. It wasn’t so
much my father’s decision nor had he even deliberated on this. More so a decision my mom along with her
brothers, sisters, and in-laws had decided was in my best interest to stay
back. And in fact, I didn’t really stay
back but rather travelled to Penang with the rest of the family only to turn
back (almost immediately) to Seremban taken by my aunt – my mom’s eldest
sister.]
Anyway,
there in Seremban I stayed for a few years [I
wrote in the paper a few years, but I was told later by my mom that it was only
for one term. How time can be so distorted in the mind of a young child? To me,
it certainly felt like it was for a very long time. I remember so many events “growing up” in the
care of this aunt and her children amidst many other uncles and aunties and
cousins] not just with one family, but in a house with four
uncles, three aunts and ten cousins. Well, staying with them did not turn me
into a saint that is for sure. I fought
with my the youngest of my cousins constantly, accepted “stolen” milk powder
and other tit-bits from older cousins, broke many of their toys, destroyed a
number of expensive appliances, and most interesting of all, insisted on dating
a girl (no older than I) who was our neighbour. It was just a short while after
our few “dates” that I decided to proclaim us as “husband and wife.” We took an
oath then to remarry again when we grew up [though
today I do not know who she is, what her name was, or where she is].
Considering all those acts now, I cannot but insist that they were all “normal”
and “natural” acts; behaviours that one could expect from any boy of two or
three years old (except for those dates and the “marriage” .. but even that can
be explained by an underlying need, even then, to do better than what I felt my
parents, particularly my father, should have been). [In
fact, in re-reading this and looking back to so many years now past – I am even
more convinced that those were “normal” behaviours especially given the
encouragement and reinforcement provided by my older cousins and other
significant adults. I am sure in their
minds it would have seemed so “adorable” and “cute” to see these two toddlers
engage in what seemed to be such “natural” and adult behaviour … i.e., dating
and seeking to end that with marriage.]
It was
here with my relatives that I learnt the existence of gods. Never before had I
had the concept of a god or gods. [I am sure my
parents – probably more so my mom – would have instilled in me the idea of God
and the need to say our nightly prayers before going to bed etc. Or at least I would like to think that would
have happened – as we see in movies where parents tell their kids and even pray
along with them each night before going to be. Maybe that is just a fantasy or
a desire I have – to think I had that pleasant childhood the first two years of
my life. But I cannot remember if that
did or did not happen.] Here, though I was never made to pray
with them (I think kids were excused from having to pray), I did learn a great
deal about their customs as well as their religion, which is Buddhism [perhaps a Malaysian version of Buddhism – as I later came
to understand].
Although I was not forced into
worshipping their gods, I had, however, to join in what is commonly termed as “ancestral
worship.” Today I have come to understand that it is not so much “worship” as
it is an offer of respect to the dead relatives; a “celebration,” perhaps, in
honour of the memory or memories of one’s ancestors. It was also during this
period of my life that I was taught (though I cannot remember by whom exactly)
that it was sinful and against God [or more
correctly – my birth religion] for me to believe in and pray to deities.
Many of the myths connected to the Buddhist faith was related to me, and as a
child I was quite confused and torn between believing in the God of my ascribed
faith and the deities or gods that were almost as real as I was. My relatives
served as a tremendous source of identities for me. Each relative in his/her
own way, “pushed” his/her beliefs and fears into me [perhaps
a better word is “influence” rather than push]. Influenced by
these people who had become my significant others, I accepted, to a great
extent, the existence of those beings, although I did not revere them nor did I
worship them, I feared them and found all means to avoid facing their shrines
and altars. The fear of offending these gods or deities was a constant part of
my life then.
My beliefs in their existence
were no longer imaginary. Although until then I had still not encountered any
of those deities, the stories told to me were enough to make me believe in
their existence. My imaginations or fantasies had become reality in a sense;
what was abstract had become solid. The belief in their being persisted for
many years to follow. In fact, even until today it is still believed that they
do exist although my perception of their existence and being is quite different
now [as to what or who they are or their purpose and function
in relation to us].
(To be continued ….)
Peace,
Syl
Syl
No comments:
Post a Comment