Terima kasih kerana berkunjung ke blog ini. Blog ini adalah untuk meluahkan rasa dihati tanpa sebarang niat menyinggung sesiapa. Oleh itu, saya meminta maaf jika sekiranya ada yang tersalah kata, tersilap faham dan sebagainya. Thank you for stopping by to my blog. This blog is open to express my feeling, thought, view, opinion etc without any intention to offending anyone, so firstly, i'm apologizing for any misconveniences, misunderstanding,misconception and etc.

Tuesday, December 25, 2012

Entah lah ... Sekadar Coretan Usang Di Hari Jumaat


Semakin hari, hari yang mendatang serasa membosankan ......... apakah yg mewujudkan perasaan ini, jiwa dan hidup terasa kosong walau ia terisi seolah kehilangan bermakna dalam hidup.

Setiap tapak perjalanan hidup yg terhitung mahupun tidak akan membawa kita setapak hampir kepada matlamat samada kita sedar atau tidak kitalah yg mencorakkan jalan kita.

Tetapi adakah yg lurus itu kekal lurus kerna lurus mampu hadir dalam bengkok. Siakah kita dan kenapakah kita?

Dimanakah kita? Apakah yg kita mau? Adakah sebarang bentuk telah kita adakan dalam minda dan diri akan apa yg kita mau! Kekadang bentuk inilah yg menghalangi kita dari jumpa atau nampak apa yg depan mata atau yg melalui kita.

Umpama besi, hanya kerna ia terucapkan dalam Qalam, maka kita lupa hakikat dan maksud sebenarnya.....

Perkataan mampu memberikan sejuta perspektif dan translasi tetapi apakah yg terbaik.

Monday, December 24, 2012

Sempena sessi Krismas


Teringat suatu kisah di suatu masa kelam dahulu, kala itu kelihatan satu jasad terbaring dikeliling anak2, isteri, keluarga dan rakan taulan. Anak2 menangisi dan meratapi,'Papa papa papa tak mati lagi. bangun papa, bangun, adik perlukan papa"

Bau wangian menyenak hidung diiringi nada suara nyanyian surah2 al-quran.

Terbujur kaku didepanku permandangan menyayat hati ini....sedih berbaur kelam berbaur kacau kerna aku mengenali empunya jasad dan sekelilingnya tanpa mampu bersuara maupun mengungkapkan kata.

Tetiba, kelihatan keanehan yg terjadi, adanya kilauan cahaya menyilaukan dari atas jenazah, yang tidak ketahuan dari mana. Kedengaran satu suara bergema, "anak2 ku, redhakan permergian papa, walaudmana pun jua papa berada papa tetap menyayangi semuanya dan akan tetap papa awasi peratikan dari kejauhan. Dalam lembaran tinggalan ada sepotong ayat sepotong adab yg ditinggalkan, manfaatkanlah. Di kala memerlukan maka lakukanlah adab dengan izinNya dan doa padaNya maka laksanakan ucapkanlah kata2 hikmatku, insyaallah akan ada bantuan. Di kala kelam dan jika perlu walau tanpa izin Allah walau terpaksa aku tentang 7 petala langit dan 7 petala bumi menghalang hatta aku terpaksa menentangi neraka sekalipun maka akan aku laksanakan dan tentangi utk aku kembali menyelesaikan permasalahan dan penganiayaan pada anak2ku dan keluarga ku yg kusayangi"
"Ingatlah anak2ku, redhakan aku pergi kepada yg menjemput ku. Janganlah kalian sesekali melupakan amalan, iman dan takwa kalian. Jagalah adik2mu keluarga mu dan jangan sesekali kalian meninggalkan AlQuran dari hati2 kalian."
"Percayalah, walau sehelai roma kalian yg tersentuh putus maka pastinya aku akan menentang walau 7 petala langit 7 petala bumi menjadi penghalang walaupun ia bermakna aku akan menghadapi penciptaku.
Demi janjiku, doaku yg ku panjatkan maka itulah antara janji2 doaku utk anak2ku dan keturunanku moga Allah telah memperkenankan doa2 janji2 telah yg ku pinta agar kalai tetap terpelihara."

............. hemmm .................................. mmg terimbau masa lalu dan macam2 ragamz ...........

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Hidup

Hidup ini ibarat roda ... tak kira ler roda apa and apa rupanyer hahahahahahaaha. Apapun keputusan ditangan anda sebagaimana nak mencorakkannya lalu menjalaninya.

Jalan yg lurus tak semestinya lurus kerna jalan yg bengkok juga mungkin jalan yg lurus cuma tak kelihatan lurus.

Maka kita masuk naskah baru dalam kehidupan ini dengan bermulanya kelahiran, membesar lalu kembali.

Ramai yg bertanya amalan itu ini dan ramai juga yg bertanya ilmu itu ini hingga ke arah mandarguna etc. Terlalu ramai yang mencarinya lalu menghendakinya atas pelbagai maksud dan tujuan.

Entahla ... sebab den bukannya arif laie ahli dalam bidang nich ...... inilah antara 'ayat' yg den amalkan saban hari, saja baca suka-suki setiap hari tanpa jemu ..........
Tq owner.

Menurut ayah, ayah angkat den dan sebagainya .... inilah ayat yg amat besar faedahnya.
Maka, saranan den ialah .... pergilah bertanya dengan yg lebih arif.

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Perfection in imperfection

 
Yup .... I'm not crazy ............ and yup, in life we tend to over describe or dis-illusioned of our wants and needs just like the picture above. Where and when exactly what we needs is just as it is OR imperfect but it match and makes us perfect instead of Perfect which makes us imperfect.

So, what does we want and needs? what it is! In long search, i've found One, these is what i've been searching in life and dreams of long since.


Monday, December 3, 2012

Lepas ni mana pula ...........

 Hemmmm lepas ni mana pulak. UUM dah, den nak kemana pula selepas ini ...................................

Entahlah, bergantung simpanan yang ada dan langkah yg ingin diatur ...............................

Friday, November 30, 2012

Pinjam Jap


1989-1990


 
SK jalan Peel (1984-1985)



Inilah lencana sekolah den dulu. den disana dari tahun SRK Abu Bakar (1980 ke 1983). Kalau rajin nanti, ingat nak scan pic masa zaman sekolah nih n kasik upload hahahaahahahahaha.




SMJC/sekolah kunci (1986-1988). nih aja ler lambang kunci yg ada. tapi rasa cam lain aja masa zaman aku dulu hahahaahahahahahah.


Pusaka

Menerima pusaka adalah sesuatu yg amat diharapkan oleh insan terutama bagi mereka yg meminatai dan menghendakinya. Tetapi sayang setelah diterima tiada terjaga dengan abik, maka adakah salah pusaka atau diri atau isian atau lampau!!!

Persoalan yg ditangani dengan pelbagai adab dan perspektif. Hemmmm berdasarkan perspektif, jika kita sakit kita pergi berubat atau buang/ubati yg sakit Tetapi bila bab senjata hemmm kita ubati dengan membuang. Apakah salah besi atau etc!!! Adakah besi berkuasa atau pusaka berkuasa!

Dari dibuang dan jika teringin nak buang baik fikirkan nak bagi den k.

Ada pusaka yg jika diterima mempunyai syarat2 tertentu penerimaan mahupun penjagaan, jadi sebelum nak terima make sure tahu bagaimana nak menjaga memelihara kemudian kesanggupan nak memilikinya. Ia tak sesenang yg disangka tetapi mudah bagi yg memahami lagi arif.

Ada yg bila diterima memerlukan perjanjian darah etc. Ada yg sebegini ada yg sebegituh .... heheheh antara sanggup tidaks aja. Tetapi persoalannya bukanlah itu seperti yg sentiasa diperbualkan.

Persoalannya ialah, adakah perjanjian asal boleh dibatalkan atau ditulis semula. Bagi pandangan den, YA, boleh jika tahu caranya dan cukup berani utk mengubahnya. Lagipun, this is life k, contract is written by god subject (not by God-do you dare to change God contract hahaha be my guest to try) and its alwiz subject to revised. So kena gi ke court or fight for a new contract lah kankankan.

Hahahahhaha, alhamdulillah i've done a few and alhamdulillah all goes smoothly so far (thank god the most gracious). So myth is busted.

Pusaka kena perasap pada waktu tertentu. YA den setuju weh. Tetapi persoalannya adakah benar2 begituh and apa tujuan sebenarnya. Den guno asap tuk mengeringkan n awet besi n etc bukan utk memanggil or menyeru .... pssst: takat nak seru nak wat guano mmg dok sokmo ada sekeliling .... jika den salah maka buktikan pada den sesuatu yg tiada penghuninya baik zahir mahupun batin.

Yang tiada pun boleh jadi ada baik kita isi atau panggil mahupun tidaks.

Hemmm koleksi2 den takat nih jika perasap pun atas tujuan atas, alhamdulillah juga tiada yg seperti dikobarkan berlaku, sebab tiada yg akan berlaku tanpa izinNYA. Lagipun besi adalah tetap besi, walau hebat ia tetap besi tiada ia melebihi insan yg seistimewa manapun kerana insan adalah tetap seorang insan.

Today .............. i'm lost and missing

 
"Apabila seorang lelaki mengunjungi saudara muslimnya, maka seolah-olah dia berjalan di jalan syurga sehingga dia duduk. Apabila dia sudah duduk maka rahmat Allah mengelilinginya. Jika dia berkunjung pada waktu pagi, maka tujuh puluh ribu malaikat akan mendoakannya hingga petang dan begitulah sebaliknya." - pssst: bukan den yg kata k -

"Tidak mengapa, semoga penyakit ini membersihkan dosamu, insyaAllah."
"Aku memohon kepada Allah Yang Maha Agung, Tuhan Arasy yang agung, supaya menyembuhkan engkau."

“You will be transformed by what you read.” -deepak chopra-
“Menulis adalah sebuah keberanian...” ― Pramoedya Ananta Toer
“Kata-kata yang lemah dan beradab dapat melembutkan hati dan manusia yang keras” ― Hamka
“Perhatian-perhatian kecil yang keluar dari hati tetap dapat menyentuh hati. Tidak melulu diperlukan hal besar untuk menyentuhnya.” ― Mel (no last name)

Thank you and credit to owner who makes it possible.


Shared Of Thought


"To live in this world
You must be able
To do three things:
To love what is mortal;
To hold it
Against your bones knowing
Your own life depends on it;
And, when the time comes to let it go,
To let it go."  - Mary Oliver -

"I had been my whole life a bell, and never knew it until at that moment I was lifted and struck."  - Annie Dillard -

"To find yourself, think for yourself."  - Socrates -

"It's not that I'm so smart, it's just that I stay with problems longer."  - Albert Einstein -

"The least movement is of importance to all nature. The entire ocean is affected by a pebble."  - Blaise Pascal -
"Resolved, never to do anything which I would be afraid to do if it were the last hour of my life."  - Jonathan Edwards -

Don't thanks to me, thanks and credit to owner who make it available.

Thursday, November 8, 2012

Mereka, mereka dan mereka

Mereka, mereka dan mereka tapi apapun aku sentiasa disini ...............

......... Hujan ...........

Arghhhh hujan kembali semula ................ like it so much ............
it is me and will alwiz be me, unless people really understand me then they would knows ..............

Musim kembara dan kerja yg pasti akan menyibukkan telah bermula ................

Yang pasti aku merinduinya ............

Saturday, October 20, 2012

Also Perhap .... The Kriss Incarnadine 1

....

He stood there for a long moment, searching the
room with his eyes till they fell upon me. Then he
crept forward, and, regarding my master carefully the
while, he took me up and drew me slowly and noiselessly
from the sheath. I wondered what he could
want with me at the dead of night ; I wondered what
my master would do if he saw that man standing by
his head with his own naked kris in his hand, and I
saw how easy it would be to kill the Buggis as he lay
there, should the stranger desire it. Evidently that was
not his intention, for, with the same precautions, and
without any hurry, he returned whence he had come,
raised the heavy arras, stooped under them and passed
in. As the gaudily-coloured folds of stuff fell into
their places, the stranger dropped on his knee beside
the handsome girl, whom I had already observed as the
favourite of the mistress of the house. The girl was
locked in that profound sleep wherein respiration seems
almost to cease, and not the slightest movement stirred
the sleeper.
Again I wondered, what could the man want with
me ? Still, I had not lived all those years in the
Sultan's Astlna without learning something, and I saw
that, if there was to be any killing, the stranger had
come unprepared ; for there was no weapon within
the curtains but the one he held in his hand.
The man listened to the girl's hardly perceptible
breathing for a while, and looked fixedly at her. She
wore, as was the custom of that country, a short silk
jacket with tight sleeves, and a pair of loose trousers,
things seldom or never worn in the house. Thrown
negligently over her was the silk sarong or skirt, the
garment common to both men and women. Except for
the girl's regular breathing there was not a sound inside
the curtain ; but occasionally the faintly-sounding
movements or a restless sleeper came, half-smothered,
from without. The stranger stooped down close over
the girl, and put^the fingers of his left hand under a
silken cord, tied so tightly that it cut into her waist.
Then, very carefully, to avoid cutting himself or her,
he took me by the blade, near the point, in the fingers
of his right hand, and getting the kris under the cord
by raising it with two fingers of his left hand the
razor-like edge severed it in an instant, and at the same
moment the sleeper awoke.
I was outraged. Was I a pair of scissors to be used
for cutting thread ? Was it for this that Tukang Burok
had fashioned me and then paid for his labour with his
own life ? Why did not my master wake and strike
this man, as the Sultan struck the unoffending smith ?
Alas ! I could not shout for help, and, though the girl
seemed to want it, and fought desperately, she uttered
no cry, only struggled to get free from the man who
seemed at last to lose his temper, and, seizing me by the
hilt, placed the point close to her heart and threatened
to kill her if she were not quiet. Either she did not
believe him, or she did not care, for she wriggled out or
his grasp and, lifting the far side of the curtain, disappeared
into the women's apartment, where he dared
not follow her.
The stranger threw himselfon the mattress exhausted
by the struggle ; but, as he regained his composure, he
looked at me in a pensive, distrait fashion, and smiled as
he swore gently under his breath. Then he lay down
and slept ; but at dawn, before the Buggis was awake,
he took me back and put me in my sheath again.
We left the place for my master's village, two
hundred miles nearer the coast, but about a month later,
when my master was going up river, we met the
stranger being paddled down stream, and, as the boats
passed each other, I saw that same girl look out of the
after-house window of his boat, and smile as she said
something to her companion. I think she was reminding
him of the evening when he borrowed me. One
sees as much, and may learn as much, on that western
waterway, as in the Astana of an East Coast Sultan.
After a time, white men came into the Peninsula and
made trouble, so that the Buggis determined to leave
the place. Just before his departure, a boy who had
seen me, and thought I was too good for a foreigner,
appropriated me and made his way back to the upcountry
fastness where he dwelt.
Years passed and my new owner quarrelled with a
Javanese, stabbed him to death and fled into the jungle.
No one cared much, and as the boy had many powerful
relatives he managed to evade capture. But he was
married, and though he was a proclaimed outlaw, his
young wife remained in her husband's house in the
centre of a considerable village. The husband used to
appear at unexpected moments and demand food and
shelter, and, when his wants had been satisfied, he
remained in the house till he was warned that further
delay would cost him his liberty. The absences were
long, the moments passed with his wife brief, and the
outlaw became suspicious of the girl's fidelity. Perhaps
the poisonous breath of gossip penetrated to his uncertain
hiding-places, perhaps jealousy alone was responsible, or
perhaps, having little else to do, he acted as his own
detective and made some discovery. Whatever the
cause the village awoke one day to the knowledge that
the man had murdered his wife and left a message with
some wanderer, whom he met by the way, to the effect
that there were twelve people in the neighbourhood
whose lives he meant to take. As a curious instance or
the panic that one desperate man may cause, it is a fact
that, from this time forward, the people of the village
would not go about singly, and all the houses were shut
and barricaded at four o'clock in the afternoon. The
two murders following on each other so quickly, the
outlaw's boastful threat, and the report that he was
armed with a wonderful kris, caused the same paralysing
fear as the knowledge that an amok-runner
is abroad, ready to slay whomsoever shall cross his
path.
The feelings of a large section of the villagers were,
however, affected by the fact that the murdered girl
had many relatives, and these, indifferent, or even
sympathetic, to a man who had only slain a stranger,
desired vengeance for the blood of their kinswoman.
Therefore the people of the district herded together to
seek the murderer, and beat the jungle for him as
they would for a man-eating tiger, but without result.
Then the white men, who, by this time controlled the
government of the country, took the case up and warned
the native headmen that they would be held responsible
if the murderer were not arrested within a given time.
The headmen appeared to be very zealous in the
pursuit, and scoured the country with hundreds of
armed followers, but found no trace of the man who
had caused all this commotion.
It may have been that some more powerful native
authority had issued secret instructions to search the
least likely coverts ;
it may have been that none of the
searchers particularly relished the idea of meeting a
desperate and well-armed man. Whatever the cause,
the murderer was still at large when the services of a
foreign Malay, of rank and tried courage, were enlisted
to do what the people of the country could not or would
not accomplish.
This stranger took with him only two followers,
and, going straight to the village where the murderer's
house was situated, they quietly obtained the information
they wanted, and in twenty-four hours were hot
on the trail of the outlaw. My latest master had
discovered a deserted hut in a patch of bananas,
surrounded by dense forest, unknown to almost
every one, but still at no great distance from the scene
of his last crime. There he had dwelt in hiding ever
since he murdered his wife, but, even then, his whereabouts
were known to some of his own family, who
supplied him with food, though they held no intercourse
with him beyond telling him of the intentions
and exploits of the great search parties, whose halfhearted
schemes he easily baffled. When the foreign
Raja took up the trail the affair assumed a different
complexion. His inquiries were conducted mainly
through foreign Malays, his following was small, his
movements rapid, his object fixed and unwavering, his
courage of the highest order, and he kept his own
counsel. Therefore it happened that, as my master
was sitting at sundown, within the open door of the
hut, his body hidden, but his legs visible in the doorway,
he was startled by hearing a voice in the banana
patch call him by name, saying,
" Come out, it is
I, Raja Radin, who am waiting for you." My
master seized a pair of spears that were leaning against
the wall and rushed down the steps to the ground.
At a distance of only a few yards, right in the
path leading to the door, stood Raja Radin, who had
not even drawn the'Jcris he carried in his belt. Behind
him were two followers, one armed with a gun and the
other with a spear.
My master ran straight at the Raja, casting a spear
which the other avoided. Then, with the second
spear in both hands, the assailant thrust with all his
might at the Raja, but the blade passed through his
trousers and the force of the ineffective blow brought
the outlaw to his knee. As Raja Radin grasped the
shaft of the spear, the outlaw whipped me from my
sheath but, before he could strike, one of the mens
behind the Raja thrust his spear over his chief's
shoulder and the point entering my master's neck
thrust him back on to the ground. Almost at the
same moment the man with the musket fired, and the
bullet, striking the outlaw fair in the chest, killed him
almost instantly. The Raja, who had never drawn his
kris, was very angry with his followers, saying, he meant
to take the outlaw alive and would have done so if they
had shown a little more courage. As it was, there
was nothing to be done but to carry the body to the
nearest police station, the Raja possessing himself or
the dead man's kris.
Thus I changed hands again, and I was not sorry to
be in such good keeping, for there are few men, white
or brown, with a stouter heart than little Raja Radin,
of Sumatra.
It was very Malay-like that when the dead man's
body was carried, next morning, to the police station,
the Raja and his two followers were scowled at by every
man and boy in the crowd of Malays who collected
round the little procession. Had it not been for the
Raja's personal reputation, his recent exhibition ot
prowess, and the knowledge that the Government was
behind him, I think there would have been more
blood shed on that day.
Raja Radin, like every other fighting Malay that I
have ever seen, suffered from a permanant state of
impecuniosity, and before twelve months had passed
he sold me to a white man, saying that, since Malay
rule was over, a kris was more or less of a useless
luxury, and the one he had worn for so many years
would serve him to the end.
So I came to be a white man's plaything ; not that
he used me ill ; he did not cut cake with me, or lay
me on the floor for dancers to caper over, as I have
seen other white men do with their dishonoured blades.
My complaint was that he did not use me at all. I
was cared for, and honoured, and made much of, and
my latest owner would draw me from the sheath and
praise my virtues as though he were a Malay. But
for all that, I lay upon the table, where I never heard
the sound of voices raised in anger, or saw the bloodlight
darken any man's eye.
And now, once again, I have found a new home :
for the white man has given me to a white woman.
I have seen her and I am glad. For all her fair face,
and pretty child-like ways, it will go ill with any one
who really angers her, if I am within her reach. And
she is a woman over whom, unless I am mistaken,
many a man has lost his head and some their lives.
The measure is not yet full ; for though many have
sought, none has been chosen, so there has been no
betrayal. With trust there is always the possibility of
betrayal, and with betrayal will come my opportunity.

Also Perhap .... THE KRIS INCARNADINE


..... Sir Frank Swettenham...... 

It was that strange birth-mark, that silent witness
of the engine-room tragedy, which gained for me the
name of " The Kris ber-d&rah" and, as the people of
the island began with the change of monsoon and the
coming of fair weather to visit the mainland, there
was a good deal of talk of this latest creation of Tukang
Burok, the famous fashioner of the snake-like kris. In
time the tale reached the ear of the Sultan to whom
the island belonged, and, when he had heard all that
could be said by the jealous, the spiteful and the
marvel-tellers, he sent a message to Tukang Burok
summoning him to come into the presence, and to
bring the " kris blr-darah" Tukang Burok obeyed,
as how should he not ; but it was with misgivings that
he received the message, which he knew meant the
loss of his darling, if no worse should befall him. Like
all true artists, he valued his creation more than any
p Blood-stained, stranger could, for he knew that it was the best work he had ever done, and the stain, the crimson blot
that sometimes looked like wet blood well, that was
magic, it was fate, it was fame it would carry his
name, through ages and generations, wherever the
Malay language was spoken.

Tukang Burok had made a beautiful scabbard from
the heart of the kamumng tree a fitting casket for the
jewel that he had determined no money should buy
from him. A handle, too, he had fashioned, a handle
of ivory, wrought cunningly into the likeness of a
bird's head and neck, the form of kris-hilt handed
down, as the Malays say, from " the time of the first
day." Then, in obedience to the Sultan's command,
he sailed across the sea in a little boat with his son a
boy in his teens, and on a morning when an opal
haze hung over the water, the palm-fringed shore, and
the picturesque village spread along the sweeping
curve within a wide river's mouth, they tacked slowly
into the haven and made fast to the rude landingstage.
The smith landed with his son, and, having stated
his business, was told to call at the Sultan's audience
hall a little before noon. This he did, and found his
royal master sitting, with a few of his chiefs and henchmen,
on the raised dais just outside the curtain that
hung over the door into " the Within," where dwelt
the Sultan's wives and all his women folk. The smith
made obeisance and sat down afar oft, on the lowest
step of the audience hall, the kris carefully covered by
the skirt which every Malay wears over his trousers,
and which reaches from waist to knee. The smith's
child also made obeisance and sat down behind his
father.

Presently the Sultan called, "Is that Tukang
Burok?" and the smith answered, "It is your
Highness's slave.""Approach !"said the Sultan, and the smith
humbly drew himself to a place near his master, but
still beneath him.
The Sultan desired him to come up on to the same
level with himself, and finally Tukang Burok squatted
on the floor within a few feet of his lord. But the boy
remained on the bottom step below the dais.
After some questions as to when the smith arrived,
how long the voyage had taken, and what weather he
had had, the Sultan said :
" Hast thou brought the kris ?
" And the smith
replied,
" It is here, your Highness."
" Give it," said the Sultan ;
" we wish to see it.
The report is that the kris is a marvel."
" Thy servant's work is indifferent," said the smith,
" but by God's grace the kris is not a very bad one.
Have I your Highness's permission ?
" he added, as he
put his hand to his waist. The Sultan signified his
consent, and Tukang Burck slowly uncovered the hilt
of the kris, drew from his belt the weapon (still in its
scabbard), and, leaning forward till he was almost prostrate,
presented it with the handle towards the Sultan.
The Sultan took it, looked at the scabbard and the
handle, and then slowly drew the blade from the
sheath and gazed long and earnestly at it, holding it
in different lights and different positions to see all its
points.
As he realised the marvellous perfection of the
design, the admirable balance, the wonderful damascening
of the blade, the cunning fashion of the
dragon at the base, the graceful curves and the long,
clean run to the point, a hungry look of exceeding
avarice and cruelty came into his eyes, and his hand
involuntarily closed tightly on the hilt in a grip
that told me he did not mean to let me go.
" What is this red mark ? "he said. " Some
cunning trick of yours, we suppose."
"Nay, your Highness," said the smith,
" it is none of my making, it came like that of itself."
"A lie !"said the Sultan," but though your name
is bad "for " Burok " means damaged " the kris
is well enough. What is the price of it ? "
" A thousand pardons, your Highness," said the
smith, who knew that the evil moment had come,
" your slave had no intention of selling the kris."
"Ah, you dog ! "said the Sultan, in fury of real
desire and simulated anger,"you do not want to
sell ? Then you shall not. You bastard ! you dare to
make a weapon and try to hide it from your master ?
But you shall never make another, and we will see
whether you are such a clever smith as you pretend."
With that the Sultan sprang up and drove me straight
into Tukang Burok's throat, down through bone
and muscle, till the point of the blade must have
reached the smith's heart. He gasped out,
" God ! my Lord, God Almighty !" and fell forward on his face
with a horrible gurgle of blood-choking in his throat.
Every one had jumped to his feet, and, as they
raised Tukang Burok, the Sultan, with some difficulty,
pulled me out of the body, and a great stream of blood
gushed on to the floor and dyed the boards with the
colour of my name.
"It is a good weapon, after all," said the Sultan,
with a chuckle, as he picked up the sheath and retired
behind the curtain. There he carefully cleaned the
blade, and expressed great astonishment and delight
at the fact that the crimson stain shone brighter
than ever against its silver-grey background.
No one had noticed the boy, the smith's son ;
but when he saw his father murdered, he had run
out of the hall and courtyard sobbing as though his
heart would break. Presently, those about the Sultan
remembered him, and asked their master what should
be done with the child and his father's boat. His
Highness generously consented to make use of both,
and the boy was ordered into the King's household
to hew wood and draw water and make himself
generally useful. But the Sultan carried me in his
girdle by day, placed me by his pillow at night, and
never ceased to sing my praises and make opportunities
for trying my penetrating powers on those of his
subjects whom he desired to get rid of.
To describe my existence while I remained in
the possession of the Sultan would be to catalogue
a long list of revolting murders. If you know the
life of an independent Malay Raja of evil tendencies,
you will understand the circumstances und-er which
he personally uses a weapon on his subjects in time
of peace ; if you don't, what I have told you of
the death of the smith is sufficient, without my
enlightening you further. My release came about
through the boy. Tukang Burok's son, mindful of
his father's death and eager for a vengeance which
all his traditions forbade him to exact, waited till
he had grown to be a man, and then stole me, the
Kris Incarnadine, and after many perils and adventures
made his way through the jungles of the Peninsula,
across the pathless hills and swamps, to the country
of the wild people, and thence to the states bordering
the western shores of Malaya. Burdened by the
knowledge of my now widespread fame, fearful of
the consequences to himself should his identity be
recognised by the weapon he carried, and driven to
desperation by poverty, he sold me to a Celebes chief,
an exile from his own country, with a record likely
to induce him to make the most of his bargain and
keep his own counsel as to what he had secured
and its value.
I was not sorry for the change or ownership. For
though I hated being used as a butcher's knife to
slaughter the defenceless, and had rejoiced to find
myself in the possession of the son of the man who
had expended all his skill in fashioning me to be
a warrior's pride and held of more account than
any woman ; yet, the boy's hunted life and poor
estate deprived me of my birthright, sentenced me to
a mean and wretched existence, wherein I counted
for little and was often for days and weeks allowed
to rust in my sheath.
The Buggis man (that is what the Malays call the
people of Celebes) took a pride in me and appreciated
my value, though he did not know my name or
history. Neither by day nor night was I ever separated
from him ; for, in the daytime, he carried me in his
belt, and at night I lay beside his pillow, ready to
his hand.
One night, my new owner was sleeping in the house
of a district chief whose guest he was, as were others
not in any way connected with him. It was a time
of trouble, and the air was full of rumours of fighting,
our host barricading his house every night. It was a
large house, with many rooms, for the owner was the
principal chief in that neighbourhood. The people of
the house were many ; men and women, boys and
girls, but principally girls, who did all the house-work
of their feudal chief and his wife. The men and the
boys went and came, and, from the talk of the mistress,
I understood that they had charge of some valuable
mines at a little distance. But the girls were always
there, busy about the house-duties, looking after
children, making mats, embroidering pillows, and
waiting upon the guests. Some of them were wellfavoured,
some ill, but there was one who, according
to Malay ideas of beauty, was a pearl, a fragrant
blossom, a heart's delight and despair. The guests
were also many and they often succeeded each other ;
but, whether they travelled by road or river, they all
gravitated towards this house at the hour of the evening
meal, and then, Malay-like, they would talk far into
the night of fights and weapons, of women and money,
until, in sheer exhaustion, they lay down with a pillow
and mat on any vacant space of floor, and slept ;
grunting and moaning, snoring and mumbling in their
dreams, till day dawned.
We had been in the house for three or four days,
and, amongst others, there was a young fellow of some
authority, with a swaggering manner and a facile
tongue, who talked to the old lady of the house the
while he was ogling her most ravoured attendants.
He seemed to be a favourite, for, one night when
every one was getting ready for sleep, the hostess gave
up her bed to him and went elsewhere ; while, of the
rest, my master, the Buggis, was the only one who
remained in the room, and he slept on a mat on the
floor, his head on a pillow, after placing me close
beside him, on the mat, ready for instant use.
It must have been in the first or second hours of the
new day, when the snores of some of the many sleepers
in different parts of the house were the only sounds
to break the stillness, that the patch-work curtain,
surrounding the great square bed-place of our hostess,
was slowly lifted, and the guest, to whom it had been
allotted, emerged noiselessly and then stood still, looking
round the room, which was vaguely lighted by a tiny
wick swimming in a vessel of oil.


compliment to sabrizain and his collection