Page 11 - thedewchronicles
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alleys and dark seedy places. His warm friendly manners put him among one of the 

favorites of tuktuk drivers in regular tourist circles. His cell phone rang a few times a 
day, good business.



I used his service when I wanted to visit the best Theravada Buddhism temples in 
Bangkok and around downtown during Thai Songkran festival. He took me to a few 

wonderful temples and shrines. Well worth it. “Everybody is on a journey,” he said. 

“Some want to see this, some want to see that. Some want to do this, and others do 
that. Life is basically a journey. When you stop journeying, you stop living...” he 

grinned and his chubby cheek looked reddish under the hot sun. Took note on this one 

too.


What he said reminded me of a wise 17th century Japanese traveling Zen poet and 
philosopher, Matsuo Bash̄. In his journal, Oku no Hosomichi, meaning "Narrow 

road to/of the interior", he wrote:

"The months and days are the travelers of eternity. The years that come and go are 
also voyagers. Those who float away their lives on ships or who grow old leading 

horses are forever journeying, and their homes are wherever their travels take them. 

Many of the men of old died on the road, and I too for years past have been stirred by 
the sight of a solitary cloud drifting with the wind to ceaseless thoughts of roaming". 

Beautiful lines. The place may be different. Thailand, or Japan, the Himalayas, the 

Alps, or wherever. But the journey is always the same.


Ok so there you go, I spent around 6 years roaming around. I found out ways to 
support myself on the road when I checked that my saving was dwindling. Washed 

dishes in local restaurants, taught English or Indonesian language part time in private 

schools, made a few extra bucks on baccarat tables in places where there are casinos, 
mowed several lawns, painted the fences, and done a few social works. Anything to 

keep going. The more I connect to people the more I see myself in them, the more I 

lose the Ego, the Self. Dissolved.


Until one summer afternoon around 3 years ago, I had an offer that I couldn’t refuse 

when I was browsing things and checking mails on my laptop. I received a message 
from my old time Singaporean boss. He offered me an executive position in Dubai, 

UAE. And while stationed there, I was supposed to travel around several nearby 
countries like India, Iran, and Srilanka to monitor small branches there. It didn’t take 

me long to decide. I replied him next morning, packed my rucksack, booked a flight 

ticket back to Jakarta a week later. I packed my things to repack them again for the 
next trip in 2 months. Let’s head on to the desert this time, I thought. Another LOL, 

another Ha-ha.


Next thing I knew I was back into the hurly burly of corporate world. The shimmering 

sunlight reflected off the office buildings and huge malls on Sheik Zayed road and 

had interesting meetings with several business people over chai latte in Bank street, 
spent some time trotting around wearing khefiyeh scarf, observing the hectic pace and 

the weird mixture of Arabic, Urdu, Swahili, Chinese, and Tagalok chatters down in 

Bur and Al Naif markets. Almost all sort of people of all nationalities are here, like 
moths attracted to a light bulb. It’s totally different view though. You’ll find more of 

pastel cream sand than green grass as the main natural view. And palm date trees in 
place of my regular view of tropical coconut trees were all I saw down on Jumeirah




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