“Tara, please help yourself to some Nyona kueh,” said Mia.
“I’m sorry about the passing of your father,” Tara said empathetically. Her thoughts drifted back to her deceased loved ones which brought a pang of sharp pain in her heart.
Tara thought it was a blessing in disguise that Auntie Siew Lian and her husband did not attend her wedding in Langkawi because of the bereavement ceremony of Siew Lian’s father-in-law who passed away one week before her wedding. It was a Chinese taboo for those who were in grief to attend joyous occasions such as a wedding.
“Parting is always painful, especially with our loved ones,” sighed Mia. “Death is an excellent reminder that nothing is permanent in this world. We need to cherish our loved ones while they are still alive.”
“Yes, filial piety is the most fundamental expression of love. Now that it’s the Chinese Seventh month, I’m sure your mom will be busy with the Ullambana festival soon,” Tara said.
The Ullambana Festival, celebrated on the 15th of the seventh month in the lunar calendar, is also known as the Hungry Ghost Festival in Chinese culture. The festival originated from ancient India. Tara first heard about it from her mother Siew Lee when she was five years old. The stories of rebirth and reincarnation fascinated her.
Maudgalyayana, foremost in supernatural powers, was a disciple of the Buddha. Through his divine powers, he realized his deceased mother was reborn in the hungry ghost realm. He tried to help her by giving her a bowl of rice. However, his mother could not consume it because the rice was transformed into burning coal. The Buddha advised Maudgalyayana to give food offerings to the accomplished arahants and transferred the merits back to his deceased mother. This was the way to release her mother from the hungry ghost realm. In short, the Ullambana Festival is a celebration of love, filial piety, and gratitude for their deceased loved ones.
“My late dad was 86 years old. The philanthropic works in clan associations and temple activities were his greatest joy and pride,” Mia said. “He was proud to play a part in preserving the Chinese traditions and the Peranakan culture in the community.”
Just as she finished the sentence, the delightful scent of the sandalwood wafted in the air. Tara felt comforted when she heard the resonant sound of a bronze bell signaling the initiation of a prayer ritual coming from the prayer room. Auntie Siew Lian looked prim and polished in the traditional blue-and-white Chinese cheongsam.
Since Tara’s mother had passed on, Auntie Siew Lian helped Tara with the Chinese pre-wedding customs. In the Betrothal Ceremony (Guo Da Li), Auntie Siew Lian accepted the betrothal gifts on behalf of Tara’s father and her late mother. She also forked out her own expenses to prepare Tara’s dowry and wedding bed installation. Tara was grateful and indebted to her.
Siew Lian began her daily devotional practices reciting verses of the Lotus Sutra:
“Bodhisattva Avalokitesvara,
Homage to Shakyamuni Buddha,
Homage to the Lotus Sutra of the Marvelous Dharma
Homage to Prajna Paramita.
“Everyday I am thinking,
‘How can I lead all living beings
to enter the unsurpassed way,
and quickly acquire the body of a Buddha?
“May the merits and virtues benefit all living beings.
May I and all living beings attain Buddhahood together.”
After Siew Lian completed the recitation, she continued to chant “Namo Guan Shi Yin Pu Sa” (Devotion to Avalokitesvara) three times before retreating to her 30-minute meditation.
“My mom is devoted to Guan Yin, the Goddess of Mercy. She is sending her earnest prayers to my late father every day,” said Mia.
Tara took a peek at the prayer room. In the middle of the ornate mahogany altar was a wooden carving of Guan Yin seated in a royal-ease pose. With her left arm placed beside her body, she rested her right arm on her raised right leg. The beautiful statue was the epitome of Guan Yin’s loving grace and equanimity.
Beneath the Guan Yin statue was the elaborately carved ancestral tablets. In front of the ancestral tablets was a small, auburn statue of Shakyamuni Buddha seated in the meditation position.
The moment Tara’s eyes met the beautiful statue of the Goddess of Mercy, an inexplicable feeling of peace, joy, and veneration arose in her heart.
“Wow, this statue of the Goddess of Mercy is so magnificently splendid!” Tara exclaimed.
“This Guan Yin statue is our precious family heirloom. It was an imperial gift given by the Qing Emperor to honor our great-great-grandfather for his service and contribution during the Qing dynasty of China,” Mia said. “Our grandmother told us that Guan Yin has the power of unconditional love and transcendent wisdom. Whenever you are in trouble, just call her name and she will come to your aid. All you need is to have faith in her. The name, Guan Shi Yin, contains tremendous power.”
“Yes, our grandmother often sang praises of the power of Guan Yin,” Tara chuckled. She remembered how her mother, Siew Lee, frequented the renowned Kek Lok Si temple while in Penang. The gigantic Goddess of Mercy standing in the temple’s pavilion was still vivid in her mind.
Clomp..clomp..clomp …
Mia’s younger brother, Ryan, and Mia’s two children, Avery and Brendan, came thundering down the staircase. Hunky and athletic, Ryan was passionate about body-building, nature, and sports.
“Sis, I’m going to Pulau Ubin for a nature outing!” Ryan joyfully chirped as he lugged along his DSLR Canon camera, tripods, and all the necessary paraphernalia of a professional photographer. “I plan to visit Chek Jawa to discover wildlife and take some photos.”
“I love nature, may I join you guys?” Tara said, her eyes were glinting with anticipation. For the past three months, she had been cooped up at her grandparents’ house in Penang, waiting in vain for any news of her loved ones’ bodies being discovered. She hardly stepped out, which almost drove her nuts. As a self-proclaimed nature buff, she was thrilled at the prospect of getting back to nature.
“Why not? Come join us!” Ryan readily agreed.
“Splendid!” Tara squealed with delight. “I can’t wait to enjoy Nature’s embrace again!”
Just then, Mia’s youngest sister, Keia, came over and put some of the Nyonya kueh into a colorful Peranakan food container.
“Keia, would you like to join us for the Pulau Ubin nature trip?” asked Mia.
“Sis, you know a nature trip has not been my cup of tea ever since I finished the Missing 411 series by David Paulides. Anyway, today is the Qi Xi Festival and I am going to attend the singles event organized by the Hokkien clan association in collaboration with the Singapore Chinese Cultural Center. It’s going to be fun mingling with new friends!”
Qi Xi Festival was the Chinese Valentine’s Day. Legend had it that the two lovers, Niulang, a cowherd in the human world, and Zhinu, a weaver from the heavenly world, would reunite once a year on the seventh day of the seventh lunar month on a bridge made by a flock of magpies.
“Enjoy yourself and have fun! Who knows, if you are lucky, perhaps you can even fish a Golden Turtle[1]!” Mia chuckled, teasing Keia, who was still single and looking for a suitable partner. Petite and charming with her thick, long black hair, Keia looked attractive in a salmon pink floral dress. But her high expectations of Mr. Right was a stumbling block for her.
“Have fun in Ubin! Ciao!” Keia stepped out with a slight bounce.
Sporting a teal boat-neck top with dark, denim shorts, Tara was ready for her nature adventure. She took a picnic basket along and walked past the living room. Something captured her attention: a wrinkled elderly man wearing Qing dynasty attire sat all alone on a wicker rocking chair placed just next to the bookshelves.
The moment Tara saw the man wearing the Qing dynasty attire, she knew something was not right. Am I seeing a ghost? Or an apparition?
“Is there a guest with us now? I saw someone sitting in the living room,” Tara remarked.
“A guest? I don’t t
hink we have any guests with us now,” Mia replied with a slightly puzzled frown. She glanced at the living room but she saw no one there. “There isn’t anyone there in the living room.”
But Tara remained unconvinced. “But he is sitting on the rocking chair!”
Intrigued, Ryan took a glimpse at the living room but he too, did not see anyone there. “I don’t see anyone either.”
Baffled, Tara wanted to double check what she saw. Yes, the elderly man was still sitting on the rocking chair, enjoying himself with a slight rock. Then, the elderly man turned his head and shot a stern penetrating glare at Tara, making her gut lurch with a panicked somersault. For a moment, Tara was stunned; she saw something only she could see, not Mia and Ryan. “He is right there, sitting at the rocking chair, staring at me now!”
She quickly rummaged in her tiny, round rattan sling bag, scrambling to find her phone so that she could take a picture to prove it to Mia and Ryan. When she finally took out the phone and looked up, the elderly man was no longer there.
Disconcerted, she blinked with disbelief, wondering if her eyes had just played a trick on her. With her heart thumping and her legs weak and wobbling, she thought, who is this person I just saw? Could it be one of Mia’s ancestors?
“Are you alright, Tara?” Mia noticed Tara’s anxiety.
“I think….I think… I’ve just seen a spirit,” Tara stammered in a quivering voice. Her whole body was trembling uncontrollably.
“A spirit? Are you sure?” Ryan was skeptical that his well-kept house would attract any supernatural beings. “There may be ghosts elsewhere, but definitely not in our house.”
“He was an old man wearing ancient Qing dynasty attire,” Tara muttered with glazed eyes. She thought about the tragic accidents of her loved ones. Would they become wandering spirits and ghosts as well?
For a moment, Mia was silent. Tara was not the only one who saw an old man wearing the same attire in this house; her devoted mother had seen him too. She knew Tara was not bluffing. “Tara is not the only one who has seen it; Mother had seen the old man before.”
“Sis, are you kidding me? Hey, it’s the Chinese Seventh Month now! Don’t scare me leh!” Ryan was petrified, staring with confusion and fear at the rocking chair that was still slightly rocking.
“Not all spirits are diabolical, some are benevolent and they help people. I’m sure the spirits you saw are our ancestors who protect us,” Mia remarked confidently。 “Remember? Grandma told us before about how our ancestors protected Aunt Siew Lan during childbirth?”
Ryan nodded, half-convinced by his sister’s assurance. Tara also believed that it could be the spirit of Mia’s ancestor and there was nothing to be paranoid about.
Meanwhile, Brendan, Mia’s five-year-old boy, was quietly standing in one corner, looking at the rocking chair. “Mommy, Auntie Tara was right; an old man was sitting on the rocking chair just now.”
The whole room became so still and silent that a pin drop could be heard.
Dong…dong…dong… The grandfather clock struck eight o’clock in the morning, interrupting their stunned stupor and reminding them to tarry no more for their nature outing.
CHAPTER 4
PULAU UBIN
As the group set out to enjoy their day’s adventure, they were glad to see that the morning sun was kind and loving, casting its gentle ray of joyful abundance onto the Mother Earth. The cerulean blue sky, dotted with fluffy marshmallow white clouds, was refreshingly peaceful and calm.
Their destination for the day, Pulau[2] Ubin, is a small island on the northeastern coast of Singapore. It is home to Chek Jawa, which is a treasure trove of biodiversity where six major ecosystems―sandy beach, rocky beach, seagrass lagoon, coral rubble, mangroves and coastal forest ― co-exist.
The taxi brought the trio to the Changi Village Ferry Point, from which they took a 10-minute bumboat ride to Ubin Island. Ryan’s fiancée, Shi Min, was already waiting for them at the ferry point.
“Tara, this is Shi Min, my fiancée; Tara is my cousin,” Ryan said, introducing the two women to each other.
“Hi, Shi Min, my pleasure to meet you,” said Tara with a smile, extending her hand for a handshake.
“Hi, Tara, nice to meet you too.” Shi Min shook Tara’s hand and the book she was holding, The New Human Revolution by Daisaku Ikeda, accidentally dropped.
When Tara picked up the book, a rectangle, hand-made bookmark with the following quote, fell down:
“Just as cherry, plum, peach and damson blossoms all possess their own unique qualities, each person is unique. We cannot become someone else. The important thing is that we live true to ourselves and cause the great flower of our lives to blossom.” – Daisaku Ikeda
What a beautiful quote celebrating diversity! Tara thought. She inserted the bookmark back into the book and handed it to Shi Min.
“Reading is a great way to help us expand our horizons and deepen our wisdom,” said Tara with an encouraging smile.
“Thank you, Tara,” Shi Min replied. “I love to read the New Human Revolution series by Daisaku Ikeda because it gives me insight on how to become a wise and compassionate leader.”
Tara was silent throughout the bumboat journey, as she was still shaken by the image of the man in the rocking chair. The strong sea wind caressing her face and ruffling her hair gradually blew away her worries and grief. She recollected her fond childhood memories with her grandparents in the fishing village of Penang.
She still remembered the timeless pure joy of listening to the whispering of the ocean waves and the time she spent gamboling by the beach collecting seashells. Her prized possession was a giant white conch shell she had spotted on the beach.
Suddenly, Tara felt her chest warming up. Initially, she thought that her overwhelming emotions were manifesting physically. However, she eventually realized that the jade pendant was warmer than usual; she instinctively went to rub the jade. Her heart plunged to her gut thinking about what had happened to the yacht on her wedding day. Perhaps, I am just thinking too much. She brushed off the negative thoughts and tried to be positive and upbeat.
They soon arrived at Pulau Ubin, where they were greeted by a gate with a sign that read - “Welcome to Pulau Ubin.”
First, they went to a bicycle shop to rent some decent bicycles. It took them about twenty minutes of cycling to reach Chek Jawa.
“Ah chooo…” Tara covered her nose with a tissue and sneezed. An eerie chill went up her spine. She could sense that someone with malicious intent was glaring at her. She surveyed her surroundings, but they seemed perfectly alright; everyone was busy engaging in their own affairs, and no one took particular notice of her.
She hopped on a mountain bike and went cycling after Mia and the rest of their family. The bicycle ride was pleasant and uneventful.
As she cycled eastward from the main village toward Chek Jawa, she was thrilled to breathe in the forest air and listen to the natural symphony of crickets chirping and the birds singing.
Gloomy dark clouds seemed to have gathered in the sky. She secretly hoped that it would not rain; inclement weather was the last thing she wanted during a perfect nature trip.
Soon, they saw a black, bronze gate with a seahorse motif. Knowing that they had reached the main entrance of Chek Jawa, they parked their bicycles in the designated areas.
Tara was delighted to spot some wild boars wandering around in the forest. She found them adorable; their bodies had stripes that resembled the stripes on watermelons.
“Avery and Brendan, do you see the wild boars over there? They look so cute and adorable!” Tara commented, pointing in the direction of the wild boar. Brendan squealed with delight at seeing a wild boar for the first time. Avery, the 7-year-old girl with a ponytail, was not so impressed.
They went to the Chek Jawa Visitor Center, also known as The House No. 1, to learn about the history and biodiversity of the place. Built in the 1930s in the typical black-and-white Tudor style architecture, the hou
se was carefully restored and protected as a building of historical importance.
When Tara was inside the house, she noticed from the corner of her eyes that someone was staring at her again. A wave of anxiety gripped her. Her heart was palpitating furiously, and she felt light-headed.
Once she stepped out of the visitor center, Tara caught sight of an unusual animal perched on a nearby tree – a monkey wearing a golden headband, like that of the monkey god, Sun Wu Kong, in the Chinese classic novel Journey to the West. The prickly monkey glared at her in a belligerent way. Tara stood aghast, totally flabbergasted. Did my eyes play tricks on me again? She thought, blinking her eyes, trying to see more clearly. Yes, the weird-looking monkey was still there on the tree.
With her gaze fixed on the monkey, Tara tugged Mia’s sleeves and pointed to the tree with the monkey, whispering, “Do you see a monkey wearing a golden headband, just like the monkey god Sun Wu Kong on that tree over there?”
Intrigued, Mia peered in the direction, but saw no monkey at all; let alone the monkey with the golden band.
Mia shook her head and said, “I’m sorry, there’s no monkey at all; only the family of wild boars roaming around.”
Tara was terrified; she was already perturbed by the ghost sighting and the last thing she wanted was to bump into a mysterious monkey with a golden headband.
What is wrong with me? Am I mad or what? Tara thought with exasperation.
After the tragic drowning incident, Tara seemed to have acquired what the Chinese called the “Yin-Yang Eye”; the ability to see both the worlds of humans and spirits.
“Tara, are you alright? You look a little flustered,” Mia asked, concerned about Tara.
“I’m not sure if I’m having hallucinations; I keep seeing things that look weird and out of place, things which I’m not supposed to see,” Tara lamented, her shoulders were tense.
Tara Zenyora : and the Seven-Jeweled Lighthouse Page 3