Autobiography - Part 3

NOTE: I will indicate the new inclusions (which may also be current thoughts in italics and blue to differentiate this writing from its earlier incarnation. Those in italics and green are comments made by my professor.)

The fear of these beings called “gods,” however, did not deter me from my “mischievousness.” My [so called] deviant behaviours continued. When I returned to my family, a servant girl [nanny] was hired to look after me (supposedly to keep me out of mischief I guess was one of the reasons). I was “exiled” from the “mainstream” of the family (my parents, brothers, and sisters) and could only spend my time in the “upper-class” of the house during the day. At night, (I guess they, particularly my father, feared my growth of hair and fangs after sunset) I would be sent to the back of the house where I shared a room with the servant girl.  The nightly routine would always be that after dinner, I would be taken to the back room where I will go to bed while the servant would [help] do the dishes in the kitchen (the kitchen was located just next to our room [separating the back of the house and the front main parts].

Well on this one particular night, I went as usual to our room. Upon entering the room, I was horrified to see a face in the window. Until this day, that face still remains ever so vivid in my mind. Clearly then and now, I am still convinced that the face I saw was not that of a human being. “He” had long, golden bright, yellow hair; “his” eyes were burning red as they seemed to stare right into one’s very soul. “His” face, though not deformed and with a smile as well as other human features, could not have been human for “his” skin was glossy (shining) black and … (I do not quite know how to describe it). [The only thing I can compare this to is a “cartoon” character of a being I used to watch on tv – I think later when I grew up – known as Goldah (not sure if that is how you spell it though).] I was frozen at the spot; tried as I did to run, I could not. Neither could I scream or shout. I yelled out in my mind, and all of a sudden I heard footsteps from behind me. As if I was released from some spell, I turned quickly to glance behind me and then back to the window. “He” was already gone. The footsteps that came were those of the servant. How she heard me, if she did at all, I still do not quite know. Could it have been some form of telepathic call? [Or was it just mere coincidence?] I must have been terribly shaken and I guess she then put me to bed. I cannot recall the happenings of the following days, but I know it was from that day forth that I had become a disciple of the mystic and mysterious [I guess I was being a little melodramatic when I first wrote this. Perhaps a better way of describing that now is that from that event, I became intrigued with magical beings and the mysterious]. I am often surprised how easily people can “dismiss” the imagination. After all, every new idea, invention or whatever starts from imagination.]

As I was only a child of about five or six years old, I did not doubt what I saw and easily accepted the figure to be real, although practically everyone else who hears of it dismissed it as my imagination. (I did not realize then that that incident would change my whole life tremendously and that many years from that day, I would be given the opportunity to see “him” once again .. though when that time shall be I still do not know.) [

Unknown to me then, that day would mark my entrance into the occultic world. [Again – please disregard the melodrama of a young adult then (laughing). Nothing as drastic as the “occults” although it did mark my interest into many of the things others consider “mysterious” etc.] Contrary to the belief of many, involvement in the occults or the paranormal need not necessarily lead one away from one’s religion. In my case, it served only to strengthen my faith in a Supreme God. I belong to the Roman Catholic Churn, and I will always remain within the Church (unless of course I am ex-communicated, in which case I will, though out of the Church, continue to support and belief in her). [Ahh, I guess it can draw one away from one’s religion after all.  For today – I think the previous sentence requires much modification.] Catholicism, like all other religions, is by no means the only salvation. She is no more than a tool to help us build our faith, and through faith discover salvation. Religion is a concept; it is an approach. It is man’s way or attempt to define and understand the force inherent in nature, the mysterious and otherwise incomprehensible, or to some – God. And so because Catholicism is but merely a tool, so too with all other tools, we will find the Church not without disadvantages, or in this case, more appropriately, weaknesses or faults. But I do come from a Roman Catholic background, and do firmly believe that the Church originates from Christ through the Apostles. 

This, today, is more what I would say is true (for me).

The country from where I come (i.e., Malaysia) is one with many diverse religions. Although it is supposedly a democratic country and is said to have freedom of religion, even the blind can see that there are many forms of religious suppression in the country [although not near as bad as it is today]. Islam is the official religion of the country, and all other religions, although they still exist quite widely, are suppressed in more ways than one. I might add here, although I am sure you are already well aware, that no matter how much suppression there may be, religions and myths can never [quite] die. All society thrives on them (even in a communistic country as can be seen in China as well as in Poland). In fact, the more they are suppressed, the more persistent they will be. Such, perhaps, is the nature of man, or then this may be evidence to show the existence of a divine being. [I am not too sure what I am saying here now – looking back. Seems a bit unclear. But given my understanding, thoughts, and beliefs today – it does seem so paradoxical/ironical. The more you fight to destroy or suppress something, the more it lives. Perhaps the secret is not fight/suppress. Rather – the way to go is to accept, embrace, and then “let it go.”]

To be continued ...

Peace,
Syl