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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.]


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
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