Raya Kedua

Sebelum nak baca cerita "Raya Kedua" yang sebenarnya ,maka cuba baca catitan dibawah ini dengan fikiran lebih sinikal.(What the hack)


A true poet (sang penyair) does not bother to be poetical. Nor does a nursery gardener scent his roses. An artist cannot speak about his art any more than a plant can discuss horticulture.

The extreme limit of wisdom, that’s what the public calls madness. The instinct of nearly all societies is to lock up anybody who is truly free. First, society begins by trying to beat you up. If this fails, they try to poison you. If this fails too, they finish by loading honors on your head. (Ini lah yang sedang berlaku di negara kita ini dan juga benar kepada insan yang sedang menempuh persimpangan (crossroad). They try to poison you and later they nail the coffin by offering money and honors and you suddenly lost your principles and values.. Does the justice prevails after that?  I don't think so, justice will not prevail, it will corrupt absolutely until all the new born will never hear again the word "kebenaran dan jalan lurus". Mereka akan mencari jalan bagaimana harus menghalalkan cara, bila hendoisma menutup ruang fikir.

Sang Penyair (the poet)  never asks for admiration; he wants to be believed.

Art produces ugly things which frequently become more beautiful with time. Fashion and design on the other hand, produces beautiful things which always become ugly with time. Take a commonplace, clean it up and polish it from raw, light it so that it produces the same effect of youth and freshness and originality and spontaneity as it did originally, and you have done a poet’s job. The rest is literature.

When a work appears to be ahead of its time, it is only the time that is behind the work.(I learnt this from David Gilmour of Pink Floyd) The actual tragedies of life bear no relation to one’s preconceived ideas. In the event, one is always bewildered by their simplicity, their grandeur of design, and by that element of the bizarre which seems inherent in them. Man seeks to escape himself in myth, and does so by any means at his disposal.

 Drugs, alcohol, or lies. Unable to withdraw into himself, he disguises himself. Lies and inaccuracy give him a few moments of comfort.

I am a lie who always speaks the truth

Tambah sedikit lagi ayat power. "Don't be sorry the moment ended. Be grateful it happened. Even the shortest chapters have valuable lessons"

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Nampak tak kearah mana cerita "Raya Kedua" ini menghala? Aku ingin sekali menyatakan semua yang tertulis diatas dalam tajuk "Raya Kedua" (rasa macam tajuk ini tak betul je, macam ada janggal je) Don't worry about the tajuk, tajuk tuu dah betul dah. Remember the last sentance above the doted line... Even the shortest chapters have valuable lessons. This is the point that I want to bring home. Appreciate it while you can.
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Najib decided to go in search of some new meditation techniques. He saddled his donkey, went to India, China and Mongolia, talked to the great masters, but found nothing.

He heard tell of a wise man in Nepal: he journeyed there, but as he was climbing the mountain to meet him, his donkey died of exhaustion. Najib buried him there and then, and wept sadly. Someone passed by and commented:

- You came in search of a saint, this must be his tomb and you are lamenting his death.

- No, this is the place where I buried my donkey, who died of exhaustion.

- I don’t believe it – said the new arrival. – No one weeps over a dead donkey. This must be a place where miracles occur, and you want to keep them for yourself.

Although Najib explained again and again, it was no use. The man went to the next village and spread the story of a great master who cured people at his tomb, and soon the pilgrims began to arrive.

Gradually, news of the discovery of the Wise Man of Silent Mourning spread throughout Nepal – and crowds rushed to the place. A wealthy man came, thought his prayers had been answered, and built an imposing monument where Najib had buried his “master”.

In view of everything, Nalib decided to leave things as they were. But he learned once and for all, that when someone wants to believe a lie, no one can convince him otherwise.

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panjang umur kita sambung

Having a sense of CONTROL over your life... Gretchen Happiness Project

Research shows that a key component of happiness is a sense of control over your life. The more you perceive yourself to be in control, the better you feel.
A sense of control means having a feeling of autonomy, of choosing how you spend your time, of doing your own work in your own way.
This is obviously true about major issues, such as whether you can control when you leave work each night or whether you have any leisure time. Lately, though, I’ve noticed how much better I feel even in insignificant situations when I feel like I have some control.
Generally, if the Big Man makes dinner, I clean the kitchen; despite the obvious moral hazard inherent in this system, it works well. The other night, however, as we finished eating, I looked around and noticed that he’d somehow used every pot and chopping board we owned.
“Don’t worry about the kitchen,” the Big Man volunteered, before I said a word. “I’ll clean it up after my conference call.”
I went ahead and cleaned up the mess myself. By telling me that he’d take over the chore even though it was my responsibility, he put me in control. By offering to do the clean-up himself, he removed my sense of resentment, and he also made me feel like I was choosing to give him a treat.
Also, discomfort is easier to bear when you know that you can end it when you choose.
A few months ago, for our trip to India, I got my first prescription for sleep medication. I used to get very worked up when I had trouble sleeping, but now my bouts of insomnia bother me less. I almost never actually take the Ambien, but just knowing that it’s in the medicine cabinet makes me feel in control of my sleep.
So I’ve been looking for ways to make people, particularly the Big Man, feel that they have more control, especially in situations they find unpleasant. I’m trying to say things like…
“Do as much as you can, and I’ll finish up.”
“We’ll leave as soon as you want to leave.”
“Don’t worry about that, this time I’ll take care of it.”
Child-rearing experts advise giving children a sense of control by allowing them to make choices about the little things in their lives—though with kids, it’s better to limit the choices so they don’t feel overwhelmed.
“Would you like to wear your green shirt or your white shirt?”
“Do you feel like having milk or water with dinner?”
“Pick out a book for me to read to you.”
This blog is a great example of how having a sense of control changes perception of a task. If “someone” had assigned me the job of writing a blog entry six days a week, I would have considered it an enormous burden. But because I control the blog, and I can change my mind whenever I like, keeping up with the writing feels like a satisfying exercise of autonomy, rather than an onerous assignment.
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I just finished The Magic Mountain, where Thomas Mann points out that most of us think that when we’re bored, time passes slowly, and when we’re interested, time passes quickly.
He argues that that’s only partially correct. True, hours pass slowly when we’re bored—but years speed by in a flash, because the time holds nothing. By contrast, while hours fly when we’re interested and engaged, eventful years hold so much experience that they seem to last a long time.
I think that’s true. I clerked for Justice O’Connor for only one year, and although those twelve months passed quickly, I feel like the experience lasted much, much longer. A friend made the same observation about the birth of his first child: before she was born, he felt like time was passing quickly, but it slowed to a crawl during the first three months of her life. So much was new.
So—how to take advantage of this observation, without taking a new job or moving to Mombai? I crave routine and predictability, but my happiness research is making me think I need to break out of my gerbil-cage existence, even though that’s what I like
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  Thomas Mann talks about the concept of "getting used to getting used." He describes it in the sense of Castorp who never gets used to the thin air in the Alps and therefore always winds up redfaced and short of breath. However, Castorp does get used to always being redfaced and short of breath. Therefore, he gets used to getting used to the Alps. This is what part of life is. We are unhappy with many parts of our life (maybe a job, maybe family, maybe friends or lack of friends, or financial resources) and we never get used to that. It leaves us with an empty feeling somewhere in our soul and no way to get rid of it. We never get used to this problem and thus the empty feeling never goes away. But we get used to the empty place in our soul and think of it only occasionally. But it is there crying out. What a sad thought about life. The solution, of course, is to listen to the part that is crying out rather than squelching it and to try to do something about it. But it is often easier to get used to getting used to a situation than it is to fix the situation. It is easier for Castorp to stay in the mountains rather than breathing normally.