IA’s note: I have recounted this before so this is just a lift from one of my dead blogs. Too busy to write something new, so here’s something nonsensical to kill some of your time and mine.
Incident 1: 1991, phone booth near the guard house, MRSM Balik Pulau, 4pm-ish
I just finished talking to my parents, basically telling them that I broke my wrist during hockey training. Actually, I broke my wrist a month before and didn’t intend to tell them at all until the school principal actually wrote to my parents to apologize about the incident. Dammit.
I was about to walk back to the dormitory when a young-ish man stopped me. He must be around 30++. He asked me questions about the town, how long the school has been in the area bla bla bla. He said he was born in Balik Pulau but went away and now was on a roadtrip down memory lane. I can’t remember who I was with then, but we both politely answered his questions. There was no sense of danger anyway, it being right in front of the guard house.
Then he asked me about my arm. I told him about the hockey incident and said I had to wear the cast for 3 months. He smiled and asked to look at it (at that time my cast was full with signatures and lewd jokes etc) so I figured, well, no harm, right? He looked at it for a while and then made a motion of writing on the cast with his fingers (like arabic writing) and then he patted the arm. Should heal in a week or two, he said. As long as you restrain from drinking young coconut’s water. Then he said his goodbyes and left.
My friend and I walked to the cafeteria and we couldn’t stop talking about it coz it was so strange.
The next week, during routine check up, my doctor said the wrist had healed and I could take off the cast immediately. How’s that? Coincidence? ?
Incident 2: 1997, taxi stand in front of Starhill, Bkt Bintang 8pm-ish
I was sitting there minding my own business when an old pakcik approached me and asked me where to take the bus to Sentul. I told him I didn’t know but pointed him to the direction of the bus stands and told him perhaps he could ask people there.
He walked away a few steps then he turned back to me and said, “Anak akan menghadapi kekecewaan yang sangat mendalam tak lama lagi. Tapi, harus banyakkan bersabar,” (child, you will face great disappointment soon. But you must have a lot of patience). I looked at him and said, excuse me? He repeated what he said. Then he left. Just like that.
Not long after, I met angel. We all know what happened next.
Incident 3: 1999 LRT bus stand in front of Atria, Damansara Jaya, 4pm-ish
A young guy came up to me asking for directions to Kg Sg Penchala. I told him I don’t know how to get there from Damansara Jaya. He said he was from Melaka and came to KL to look for a particular ustaz (religious teacher) that his teacher back in Melaka asked him to find. Then he asked me if I would like to buy him a drink.
I was startled. But he looked tired and exhausted so I figured ok I could buy him a teh O ais. But the LRT bus was coming, so I said to him, I’d be happy to buy you a drink but I have to go; here’s some money for you to buy something to drink. I had RM2 in my jeans pocket so I offered him that.
He shook his head and said thank you. The bus came, but it wasn’t the one that go to the destination that I wanted go to so I sat back down. The guy then said to me that asking me to buy him something to drink was a test. I looked at him, puzzled. He said, he did not come to KL to look for the religious teacher, he was there because his teacher in Melaka gave him these stones and asked him to give them to people. And apparently I was one of those people.
He was holding out a small oval-shaped stone, the size of those stones that people use to make rings with and said he could not keep it and I must take it. A crowd had started to gather around us (it was a bus stand, there was a lot of people there to begin with). I told him, no thanks, I didn’t need it.
He said, it wasn’t just any ordinary stone. He showed me that the stone was carved with the word “Allah” (I don’t know if it was naturally carved or it was man-made) and that it had unknown mystical powers. Of course by this time I was desperate to get away from the situation. One of the people at the bus stop interrupted and asked when the stone could do. The guy would not answer.
He said, use the money that you were supposed to give me for the drink to buy a piece of yellow cloth. Wrap this stone with it and put it under your pillow when you sleep. Every Friday, you have to recite the Yassin, then drop this stone in water and drink the water. You will be protected from harm. I just smiled and shook my head. He said, why don’t you hold it in your palms and I will show you what it could do.
By this time, the crowd was goading me (yes it was like a small circus). Reluctantly I held the stone; then the guy asked if anyone had anything sharp with them. I quickly gave him back the stone and said no thanks, I am not your guinea pig. He said, no no I can’t keep this stone, it is not mine to keep. Then someone said he has razor blades (one chinese guy who apparently just came out of Parkson); before I could yell mind your own business, the guy took the blades and sliced my arm with it.
Honest, this really happened. There were no less than 5 eye witnesses. The women screamed. I think I did too.
But, I didn’t bleed. The blade did not cut me. The guy then took back the stone, fashioned an envelope out of a piece of paper that he took out from his pocket and put the stone inside; and he gave it to me. He said, whatever you want to do with it is up to you, but this stone is not mine to keep.
Then he left. The chinese guy whose razor blades he used ran after him; I presume to ask him more about the stone.
I looked at the stone, turned it in my palms a few times, all these while thinking what should I do with it. The makcik who sat beside me patted my shoulder and said, breathe, breathe (all the blood drained from my face I think). I put the stone back in the envelope and shoved it into my jeans pocket and waited for the right bus to come.
As soon as I got on the bus, I called my mother and told her the story. I said I didn’t know what to do with the stone; should I throw it away? Should I keep it? Well, I don’t want to keep it. My mother asked why didn’t I want to accept it? I told her I don’t believe in mystical powers; I believe in divine power but not through a conduit like a magic stone, or a magic keris or whatever it is that people believe in. To me that’s all baloney.
She said, open up the envelope. I took it out of my jeans pocket. The stone was gone.
My mother said, yes I figured as much. You didn’t want it, so it went away looking for someone who does. I told my mother that is ridiculous. It must have dropped or something. My mother just laughed. She said, forget about it. And I did.
3 years later I recounted this story to Mr Abu one fine night as we were working in his living room. He looked at me oddly. I asked him, what’s the matter? He said, a few years back he had the exact same experience but the stone was carved with Muhammad. He didn’t take the stone either.
How’s that for coincidence?
Incident 4: 2007 Sept, LRT station Taman Jaya, 9pm-ish.
I just got back from work; I stopped at the LRT Taman Jaya station and wanted to take a taxi back to Sunway. It was raining cats and dogs so taxi was scarce.
The chinese girl before me managed to hail a taxi. She was going to Subang Jaya, so she said we could share the taxi since our destination was close to each other. She sat at the backseat while I sat at the front passenger’s side.
The taxi driver introduced himself as James. The three of us had a pleasant chit chat when suddenly he said he used to be the aircraft engineer for MAS (then showed me his old staff ID) but he had to quit because some girl had bewitched him.
His story goes: he was going out with this girl but then they broke up and she bewitched him. He didn’t know that he was under a black magic spell until one day for no reason at all, he went to the Buddhist Temple in Jalan Gasing and the monk stopped him from entering because he said James had a black spirit inside of him.
The monk then gave him something to eat; and the other monks gathered around him and shielded him with their robes. He then passed motion and according to him all sorts of things came out from his body – rusted nails, broken glass etc. The monks then bathed him and told him he needed to go and see someone to help drive away the black spirit.
James said he pestered the monks daily until one of them agreed to take him back to Thailand. There he went to see a witch doctor who was living somewhere deep in the jungle, and he stayed there for 10 years and learn the arts of black magic.
Obviously by this time the chinese girl and I had grown very quiet.
He said he doesn’t practice his black arts, that he learned it for his own protection (from what? traffic jams?); and that he just came back to Malaysia a few months ago to restart his life.
He then showed me the tattoo in thai character inside his lower lip and said that it was a special incantation. Then he showed me this huge pendant that he was wearing – it was a small statue that contains an oil-like substance. He said, his guardian lives inside the statue.
I laughed it off and told him I am glad that he got better and now had a good life in front of him. He was happy with that and said yeah yeah my life is good. Then he told me that he knows I am having trouble with a certain someone at work, and that he could help by giving me this particular oil that was enchanted from the body of a murdered person.
Minyak pengasih (love potion), he said. You don’t have to pay me or anything, I think you’re a nice person so I am going to give this to you. He took out a small vial from his pocket and passed it to me.
I said, oh no no no, thanks but I’ll pass. I’m not joking, he said. I told him I wasn’t joking either.
Then, out of nowhere, he patted the top of my head three times, much to my shock.
I asked what was that for?
He said, well you haven’t been sleeping at night so I was just checking if it was because of black spirits but happy to tell you that it is not. You should stop washing your hair when you shower at night, then you’d be able to sleep better.
I said, thanks then prayed for the road to clear up so that we could reach our destinations faster. Needless to say, the chinese girl at the backseat was as quiet as a mouse.
We didn’t talk the rest of the way. After he dropped off the chinese girl and we were headed towards Sunway James asked, are you single and my head went, here it comes… the pick up line.
I said yeah, coz all the birds flew away hahaha (my exact words were “semua burung sudah lari lah hahaha”)
He patted my head again, and again I jumped a little coz it was so unexpected.
Then he said, no no no there is someone and you have found him.
I said, no lah, mana ada, and I don’t believe in all these soulmate crap anyway.
He said ada, ada (got, got). Then he gave me his number, which I reluctantly took down and he said I could call him if I find myself in trouble and need some, errr, black magic assistance.
I thanked him, we reached Sunway and I ran helter skelter to my apartment. I told Ita and Aning the story (they were in the living room watching tv and both of them coiled away from me and said eeee… you allowed him to pat your head?); and told people at the office about it the next day. Creepy.
I lost my phone soon after and so with it, James’ number.
That was a little over a year ago. Since then, nothing weird happens.
Not yet. The year is still long.
So? Mystical encounters or just people with lousy pick-up lines?