Butterfly in the rain

IMG_1478The rain, incessant and irritating
Wetting him to the soul
Monday, funny Monday
Began and ended
Like a rag wet with petrol
But never lit

It could have been
Another day in eternity
But something stirred
Beneath the eyelids

Ask the lonely, pleaded the four tops
They know the hurt and pain
The pain of being
In the likeness of a rag
Drenched with petrol
On the verge of igniting

But the rain, the rain
Held everything in its grasp
Lock jawed onto reality

Nothing could be released
Not his soul, not his mind and not his love
A beautiful ethereal creature
Like a butterfly caught in the rain

Ubud  21.09.2009

Poem – It’s all over now baby blue…

fishfish1(Apologies to Bob Dylan and all who claimed they knew and loved me)

It’s time to wander into the dark waters
To embrace the Universe once more
And leave the memories behind
In the haze of relinquished dreams

Family, friends and lovers may grieve
For a soul they imagined belonged to them
Epitaphs of emptiness will swell the airways
Till the rains come and wash away the truth

The depths of despair keep him comforted
As he travels the highway to another time
Another world, another lifetime
Of growing once more in the warmth of a womb
And passing through the stargate

“I was born in Spring
When my mother lay dying
From a gash in her throat
Fleeing gunshots
Life was ending…just as it had begun”

A tryst with the spirits of Ubud

The Sacred Cave IMG_8397 copy

Many expats in Bali exist in the turbid waters of passion, fading dreams and a desperation that converges into a daily run to catch sanity. Keeping a lid on rising adrenaline that threatens to wreak havoc on frail hearts and snap frayed nerves is a challenge to these ‘outsiders’ who nest on the Isle. The viscosity of life on the Isle ensnares many in a pantomime world which mocks everything that these unfortunate souls attempt in an effort to surmount the odds. When the urge becomes the purge, they are forced to reach back into the past to seek an answer to the circle of life. Often, as a form of escapism, they take shelter in their incestuous group of friends, drink, smokes and a socialization that borders on surrealism. Some however encounter the spirits of the land that revives their lust for life.

The following narrative is about how the writer of this column faced a benign unseen force and came away feeling cleansed, blessed and comforted by the experience.

A short while ago I happened to attend a Full Moon religious ceremony at the family temple of a friend of mine, Tjokorda Raka Kerthyasa (Pak Tjok) of the Ubud Royal Family. It is situated a stone’s throw from the Tjampuhan River. On such occasions it is imperative that one honors the hosts and their culture by attending the ‘function’ in Balinese dress. Waddling down the winding path to the river (as I had tied my sarong a bit too tight) I eagerly looked forward to the sumptuous meal that would evidently follow the religious ceremony.

According to tradition a cock fight is staged prior to commencement of rituals. The cackling of poultry and the shouts of onlookers followed the three fights that were staged. It was entertaining as well as alarming as each fight ended in the vanquished dying on the grassy knoll. But I had seen such gladiatorial displays before in villages in India and therefore understood why this was an essential ingredient of the prevalent culture.

The ceremony itself took no more than twenty minutes.

The temple, which nestles on the side of a rock face near the river bank, has within its hallowed grounds a sacred spring. The water from this spring is said to have curative powers so villagers from far and wide often arrive to drink it. It is also the spring from which water is taken for all royal cremations.

Tjok De, the elder son of my friend, gave me a small white bowl of water taken directly from the spring. The cool sweet taste was refreshing.

After attending the ceremony and tucking into the smoked duck, chicken satay and other goodies I sat under an imposing Kadamba tree to chat with the younger son of Pak Tjok, Tjok Gus. He told me about a cave near the Ayung River that has a spring emanating from it. It is quite large and runs deep into the hill and there is sufficient standing room so one can walk upright into the cave. The water at its base is waist high (for the average Asian). It is said that if one enters it with an unclean heart or with bad energy, the person will see a large snake. Tjok Gus invited me to join him and his brother on a trip to the cave.

So the following day, along with Lisa Taylor a friend from London, we accompanied the two brothers and their friend Kacer from Taro village. The short drive ended with the beginning of a long steep walk down the hill side to the cave overlooking the Ayung River. On the way we were met by a pretty Balinese damsel, Made, decked up in her traditional attire holding the mandatory offerings of flowers and incense.

Lisa, an asthmatic was hesitant at first to walk down the path afraid she would never be able to make the return journey up the steep incline without her inhaler. Smiles, laughter and cajoling did the trick and Lisa was off with great enthusiasm. I think the stunning view of the manicured rice fields below, the sight of the meandering Ayung River and the sensual sway of the coconut trees gave her a feeling of oneness with nature. It was a soothing balm for she glowed with anticipation at the unfolding adventure into the great unknown.

We arrived at the cave, which was exactly as Tjok Gus had described it complete with the overhanging vegetation, moss and ferns. The shrubbery was a vibrant green and the silence was broken only by excited shouts in the distance of tourists rafting down the river.

As soon as we sat down for a breather, Made disappeared into the bushes to return wearing only a sarong from her chest down without anything underneath. She instructed us to do the same as we had to bathe in the water. Lisa, however, politely declined and I simply removed my shirt. The two brothers and their friend stripped down to the basics. We all entered cave wadding into the cold water.

A spring constantly feds the mini lake in the cave through pipes installed by the villagers; All of us took turns under the water spouts. I shivered as I looked into the deep dark recess of the cave where the water looked haunted and foreboding. It was if there existed in its very heart a menagerie of spirits each jostling to have a look at the homo-sapiens who had briefly invaded their turf. Suddenly I noticed a number of fish nibbling at the submerged part of my body. I didn’t feel a thing but before I could react Tjok Gus told me not to be alarmed as the fish were simply cleaning me. He informed me that people with skin ailments and the like often visited the cave to lie in the water and be ‘cured’ by the fish. Bless their little souls (the fish I mean), I thought to myself.

It is said that on Full Moon nights and other auspicious occasions, villagers arrive in numbers bearing floral gifts and more to the cave in homage to the resident spirits. Those who are ill in body bathe in the water where the little fish possessed by the spirits cleanse them of their sickness.

The intense feeling of being watched by an unseen force was quite overwhelming. I had to gather courage and turn my back and wade out of the water. Dripping and shivering I glanced over my shoulder and saw a few dark shadows in the water. But they were not spirits, just very large cat fish, the favored residents that dine on chicken eggs generously offered by visitors.

After the ritual bathing, we genuflected before the temple at the mouth of the cave, prayed, lit incense sticks and then sat in silence. Thoughts of past iniquities, thoughtless indiscretions and lost loves flickered briefly like a candle in the wind and then were snuffed out by the feeling of not being alone. I felt a great force had descended on the place and was taking a keen interest in the goings on. At no time during the prayers did I feel threatened. It was as if the great force was there to protect us.

The bathing, the prayers, the aroma of incense permeating the air around us and the gentle breeze that seemed to rise and fall with every breath had purified us, me in particular for the light around suddenly appeared effervescent. A quietness had settled in me.

I came away wheezing my way back up the steep incline with Lisa and Made in tow. The boys had simply run up the hill. Breathless we sat in the car as Tjok Gus drove us to Nacho Mamas where we refreshed our memories with draught beer and calmed the nagging hunger with sizzling pork spare ribs.

It was only when I lay in bed that night watching the geckos munch on the flying creepy crawlies on the ceiling did it dawn on me that this was the secret of Ubud I had somehow missed all these years; a belonging without the threads of ‘warped inheritances’ tying one down.

This was Bali helping one to confront apprehensions and assuaging the tentativeness that many of us feel towards the unseen.

I had gone out that day with fear of the unknown and returned with a feeling of belonging…belonging to the Universe.

Om Shanti Shanti Shanti Om

Family temple near Campuhan River IMG_8284 copy