What is 'Why'?

"'Manipulations work, but they cost money. Lots of money. The danger of manipulations is that they work. And because manipulations work, they have become the norm, practiced by the vast majority of companies and organizations, regardless of size or industry. Just because it works doesn't make it right. When manipulations are the norm, no one wins.' That's roughly a bit of meaning I got from Simon Sinek's work, 'Start With Why,' said Laluna after saying Basmalah and Salaam. "And that night, " she moved on, "the songbird accompanied me to explore the Land of Equatorial Emerald. For some reason, that night, she couldn't sleep, and before I asked 'why?,' she took me to, first of all, crossing the island which, in the days of Dutch colonialism, never sleeps, Onrust. And now, Onrust had completely fallen asleep. Then, after passing several islands, the songbird took me to the never sleeps city, the Metropolitan City, although not as grand as New York and there are many Metropolitan cities in other parts of the world, but, that's what people in this land, call it. And, there is something interesting about the Governor in this Special Capital Region, that many people are talking about him, both his favorites and his haters. For those who like him, simply greet him with the nickname 'The President!' But, why? This is due to the haters, because every time there is trouble on the Land of Equatorial Emerald, ranging from floods to a pair of broken flip-flops, the Governor will be blamed. Our wit would say, 'In ancient times, both Kings, Sultans, or Caliphs, and today is called the President, has a moral responsibility for the safety of his every single people? So, that's the way he's been called 'The President.' Then, where is the incumbent? It seems like, your Excellency has been busy, to find 'a shoulder to cry on.' This Land I visited, had achieved its independence since the end of World War II until now, for decades. And I wonder, why in the Constitution, their 'Founding Parents' would prefer the word 'Freedom' rather than 'Liberty'? Both Liberty and Freedom are synonyms, but sometimes, it can get confusing, and people find it hard to decide which word to use.

'Liberty' is defined as 'the right and the power to believe, act, and express oneself as one chooses, of being free from restriction, and having the freedom of choice. It is the condition of having the power to act and speak without restraints.' On the other hand, 'Freedom' is defined as 'the state of being free to enjoy political, social, and civil liberties. It is the power to decide one’s actions, and the state of being free from restraints or confinement. It is synonymous to the words liberty, privilege, deliverance, and independence.' The term ‘Liberty’ relies heavily on implication of responsibility and duty, and attachment to a greater whole society or philosophical belief system. In contrast, freedom means the raw ability to act and do as one wills. So, 'Freedom' is a more concrete concept than 'Liberty.'

When we talk about 'Liberty' and 'Freedom,' we cannot be separated from political theory. In Joseph Raz's view, Political theory, can conveniently be divided into two parts: a political morality and a theory of institutions. Political morality consists in the principles which should guide political action. It provides the principles on the basis of which the theory of institutions constructs arguments for having political institutions of this character rather than that. Political morality also sets a goal as well as limits to the actions of those political institutions. But the principles of political morality themselves, grow out of the concrete experience of a particular society with its own institutions. Their validity is limited by their background. In this way, institutions shape the principles which are designed for the guidance and remoulding of these institutions. Much of the day to day political activity of a country is concerned with the shaping of political institutions and procedures. Not uncommonly the best way to implement new policies is to create new public institutions or rearrange or reform old ones. And we are all aware of many cases where the best policies failed through the failure of the institutions which were charged with their implementation.

Furthermore, by ‘political institutions,’ Raz is referring primarily to the state and its organs, and also, somewhat more broadly, to all public authorities. So, not all political organizations are political institutions. Political parties, in most democracies, are not. They are political organizations for it is their purpose to engage in political action.

Liberalism was long divided between those who regarded liberty as intrinsically valuable, and those who claimed that it is of instrumental value only. The latter include the utilitarians and the free-market economists. The analysis of the meaning of ‘liberty’ or of ‘freedom,’ according to Raz, cannot answer the questions of which liberties are valuable, what counts as a restriction or interference with a person's freedom and how to judge what to do when considerations of freedom conflict with other considerations—which may or may not involve the interest of freedom in some other respect.

Raz explained, historically, liberalism and individualism grew together. Similar social and economic forces have often combined to advance their cause in various countries. Yet they are distinct doctrines. Liberalism is a doctrine about political morality which revolves round the importance of personal liberty. Individualism is a moral doctrine. It is related to liberalism as liberalism is related to democracy, understood as a theory of political institutions. Liberalism can provide a foundation for democracy, though one can reach democratic conclusions from other foundations, each lending a somewhat different shape to the democratic theory it yields. Similarly, an individualist may endorse liberalism, as his political morality, but liberal conclusions, can also be based on nonindividualistic premisses. Also, just as a liberal may support non-democratic institutions as the most suitable for some societies, so an individualist may become not a liberal but a libertarian—seek to maximize autonomy and political freedom, and minimize the state's violation of individual liberties; emphasizing free association, freedom of choice, individualism and voluntary association—or an anarchist—skeptical of authority and rejects all involuntary, coercive forms of hierarchy. 

Libertarians seek to maximize autonomy and political freedom, and minimize the state's violation of individual liberties; emphasizing free association, freedom of choice, individualism and voluntary association. Libertarians often share a skepticism of authority and state power, but some libertarians diverge on the scope of their opposition to existing economic and political systems. Various schools of Libertarian thought offer a range of views regarding the legitimate functions of state and private power, often calling for the restriction or dissolution of coercive social institutions. Different categorizations have been used to distinguish various forms of Libertarianism.

Anarchism calls for the abolition of the state, which it holds to be unnecessary, undesirable, and harmful. As a historically left-wing movement, placed on the farthest left of the political spectrum, it is usually described alongside communalism and libertarian Marxism as the libertarian wing (libertarian socialism) of the socialist movement, and has a strong historical association with anti-capitalism and socialism.

Individualism tends to lead to a vision of liberalism as a theory of limited government. It presents a view of political liberty as a doctrine of what governments may not do, how they may not treat their subjects, which areas of individual conduct they should keep their hands off, and similar principles. Here too the connection is a loose one and one can support a limited government interpretation of political liberty on non-individualist grounds as well.

The doctrine of limited government, regards governments as a threat to liberty. Its protection is in keeping governments confined within proper moral bounds. While not denying that governments can and often do, pose a threat to individual liberty, there is another conception which regards them also as a possible source of liberty. They can create conditions which enable their subjects to enjoy greater liberty than they otherwise would. This second conception regards liberty as sometimes threatened by individuals and corporations, not only by governments. It goes further and claims that though governments sometimes abuse their powers and trespass on individual liberty, in situations which are not all that rare they should act to promote freedom, and not only sit back and avoid interfering with it. They should keep off certain areas of life, or avoid interfering with them in certain ways, while acting in other areas and in other ways to promote freedom.

In short, there should be moral principles which are special to political morality. Freedom and Liberty, must be seen to be a distinct value, but one which is intimately intertwined with others, and cannot exist by itself.

What I have said, is merely to present the importance of start with 'Why.' It is a way of thinking that that gives some leaders the ability to inspire those around them. Simon Sinek says, 'There are leaders and there are those who lead. Leaders hold a position of power or influence. Those who lead inspire us.

Whether individuals or organizations, we follow those who lead not because we have to, but because we want to. We follow those who lead not for them, but for ourselves.

All right then, let's get back to the songbird. Moments later, the songbird perched on a tree branch, and one of her wings beckoned me to shine my light onto the front yard of a conference hall. Seen down there, four men, and one of them, was talking. I knew the man, he is the philosopher, and if Nietzsche was often referred to as an ‘aphoristic’ writer, I'd like to call him as ‘aphoristic’ philosopher. But unfortunately, my time had reached me. Tomorrow night, I'll be back to this location and, Insha Allah, I'll share with you what he said. Of course, as a continuation of 'Why.'

For a while, Songbird and I will be separated, and tomorrow night, we promised to meet again at the same time and place. And gently, I heard the songbird, humming,

Because the world is round

It turns me on

Because the world is round

Because the wind is high

It blows my mind

Because the wind is high

Because the sky is blue

It makes me cry

Because the sky is blue *)

Before leaving, Laluna said, "All historical facts come to us as a result of interpretative choices by historians influenced by the standards of their age. Millions have crossed the Rubicon, but the historians tell us that only Caesar’s crossing was significant. And if you asked 'Why?' Perhaps the answer is this, 'The phrase 'crossing the Rubicon' is an idiom that means that one is passing a point of no return. Its meaning comes from allusion to the crossing of the Rubicon by Julius Caesar in early January 49 BC. His crossing of the river precipitated Caesar's civil war, which ultimately led to Caesar's becoming dictator perpetuo [dictator for life ]. Caesar had been appointed to a governorship over a region that ranged from southern Gaul to Illyricum. As his term of governorship ended, the Senate ordered Caesar to disband his army and return to Rome. As it was illegal to bring armies into Italy, the northern border of which was marked by the river Rubicon, his crossing the river under arms was synonymous with insurrection, treason, and a declaration of war on the state. According to some authors, he uttered the phrase 'alea iacta est' ["the dice is cast"] before crossing.' And Allah knows best."

Citations & References:
- Simon Sinek, Start with Why, Penguin Group
- Joseph Raz, The Morality of Freedom, Oxford University Press
- Edward Hallett Carr, What is History?, Penguin Group
*) "Because" written by John Lennon & Paul McCartney

Bahasa

The King of Terrors

After greeting with Basmalah and Salaam, the Moon said, "The gentleman told me a story,

'An aged Man saw with surprise, the appearance of Death before him, and was seized with terror, when summoned to follow him immediately. 'Pray grant me a little time,' said the old man, 'at least, till I have made my will and testament.'

'I cannot longer delay,' replied Death, 'as I have so often given you warning to prepare yourself for my final call, which I perceive has had no effect upon you, nor have you paid the least regard or attention to it.'

'Surely you mistake,' said the old man, 'you never came to me before this moment, nor have you ever admonished me to prepare to follow you.'

'How,' said Death, 'have I not given you frequent and awful warnings sufficient to awake your conscience, when I have one by one taken away your youthful companions as they stood around you, and your children in their infancy, all which you have disregarded, as if you thought yourself exempt from my power, and now complain that you are not prepared. But prepared or not your hour is now come, and you must obey the summons.'

The gentleman then said, 'This Fable forcibly impresses on our minds the necessity of being always prepared for death, as we know not the hour, the day, nor year of the awful visitation.

Death is a harsh and fearful reality faced by everyone who lives. No one has the power to avoid it, nor does anyone around the dying person have the ability to prevent it. It is something which happens every moment and is encountered by the old and the young, the rich and the poor, the strong and the weak. They are all the same in that they have no plan or means of escaping it, no power, no means of intercession, no way to prevent it, nor to delay it, which shows that indeed it comes from one having tremendous power - so that the human is helpless in this regard and can only submit to it.

So in Allah's Hand alone is the granting of life, and in His Hand is the return of what He gave at the appointed time, and after the allotted life span, whether the people are in their houses amongst their families, or striving to seek provision or striving for 'aqeedah (correct belief). Reward and recompense are with Him, and He has full knowledge and power.

EVERYONE SHALL TASTE DEATH. This reality, must be established firmly in one’s heart, the reality that life in this world is limited and has an appointed end - and this end will definitely come.

All will die. Everyone's soul will taste it and will depart from this life. There will be no difference between one soul and another in tasting from this cup which passes between them all, rather the difference is in something else, the place of their destination.

A poor and toil-worn Peasant, bent with years, and groaning beneath the weight of a heavy faggot of firewood which he carried, sought, weary and sore-footed on a long and dusty road, to gain his distant cottage.

Unable to bear the weight of his burden any longer, he let it fall by the roadside, and sitting down upon it, lamented his hard fate. What pleasure had he known since first he drew breath in this sad world? From dawn to dusk, one round of ill-requited toil! At home, empty cupboards, a discontented wife, and disobedient children! He called on Death to free him from his troubles.

At once, the King of Terrors stood before him, and asked him what he wanted. Awed at the ghastly presence, the Old Fellow stammering, the changed his mind, saying that, it was nothing more than to have helped once more upon his shoulders, the bundle of sticks which he had let fall.

Know that this world is passing away and the Hereafter is coming towards us, so keep in mind the point of death.

The righteous will die and the wicked will die

The warriors who fight Jihaad will die and those who sit at home will die

Those who busy themselves with correct belief will die and those who treat the people as their slaves will die

The brave who reject injustice will die, and the cowards who seek to cling on to this life at any price will die

The people of great concern and lofty goals will die,

and the wretched people who live only for cheap enjoyment will die

The Moon wrapped up with, "When people lose loved ones, they need the love and support of people around them, to get over it. One of the best ways to do this is, to just be there to talk to them in the initial stages of the shock, and as time goes on, try to get them to re-adjust to their regular routines and daily lives. A loss of a loved one is like an open wound, it needs time and care to heal, so do be careful not to pour salt where it will only harm.

May Allah have mercy upon all of the deceased of the Muslims. May He grant them firmness in answering. May He widen their graves and fill them with light and many pleasures. May he protect them from any punishment and harm in the grave or in the hellfire. May He enter them into the highest of paradise in the companionship of the prophets, martyrs, truthful ones, and the righteous. May He make the deaths of deceased a lesson for those they have left behind. May He grant comfort, solace, and firmness to those they have left behind, and may He replace all of their sorrows and dismays with unlimited pleasure and joy in this life and the next. Aameen. Aameen. Aameen. And Allah knows best."

Citations & References:
- Shaykh 'Alee Hasan 'Abdul Hameed, Death, Al-Hidayah
- J.B. Rundell, Aesop's Fables, Cassell, Petter and Galpin
- James Northcote, RA, One Hundred Fables, Originals and Selected, J. Johnson

Bahasa

The King’s Joke

"A hundred years, along the 18th and 19th centuries, in India, there sat upon the throne in royal state, Nawab of Awadh, the title of the rulers who governed the state of Awadh, belonged to a dynasty of Persian origin from Nishapur, Iran, " said the Moon after starting with Basmalah and Salaam. "'The 'Awadh,' anglicised as Oudh, over which that autocratic monarch ruled was not merely, the shrivelled, circumscribed subdivision of a province which it is to-day, but it extended to the north to the borders of Nepal and Eastwards and Westwards and Southwards, far beyond the limits of the present United Provinces. But it is not for the magnificence and brilliancy of his Court that we remember this King: it is for his idiosyncracies, his vagaries, his puerilities, his extraordinary fondness for European attire and English people.

It was an early summer morning when the second King of Oudh, Nasir-ud-Din Haider Shah, was walking in the cool of his garden. He stood for a while before the fountain and watched the morning sun bursting through the spray in vari-coloured tints. Through that veil of rainbow colours, he saw a shadow flit past from one evergreen shrub to another.

What could it be ? A man, a murderer, a spy on his harem ? All these questioning thoughts, must have flashed through his mind, now surcharged with dark suspicions.

'Come here, villain,' he called, 'come forth at once and explain how you lurk here.' The figure emerged quiveringly from behind the shrub. He was ragged and poorlydressed, with dishevelled hair and beard. Hardly had he approached within 20 paces of the King, when he prostrated himself on the ground muttering, 'O Roof of the World, Protector of the Poor, Worshipful Presence—mercy.'

'What brings you here, blackguard?' demanded the King. 'My brother is in your service, Your Majesty,' cried the prostrate man. 'He is Razzak, groom, and I came here to look for him and ask him to help me to get employment in Your Majesty’s stables. I am a stranger here and lost my way, never dreaming that I would insult Your Majesty’s eyes with the vision of so miserable a sight as myself.'

The King realised that the man was perfectly honest, but always fond of a joke, dissembled anger and increased suspicion. 'Villain!' he cried, 'You lie! Murder is written in your face, and I take your presence to mean treason. You shall be put to death.

At that moment, one of his servants, with consternation in his eye, approached the King. 'Bring me my pen and a scroll of paper. I shall write this man’s death warrant.'

'Mercy! Mercy!' cried the man, in broken accents of agony and apprehension. Immediately, the pen and paper were at hand. The King proceeded to write while his victim continued to writhe and cry in the acuteness of his suffering. 'Give this man a post on 5 rupees a month,' he wrote and rolling up the paper, with a grim smile, he handed it to his servant.

'Give this,' he said to the servant, 'to the Royal guard and order them to send this man immediately, under escort, to the Prime Minister who will carry out my orders at once.' The prostrate man, still pleading for mercy, was immediately conveyed from the scene, and hardly had he gone, when the King was convulsed with laughter.

The Prime Minister at that time was Nawab Mir Fari-i-Ali Khan. He was unable to reconcile the pitiful cries of the supposedly condemned man with the terms of the order he had received. So, he wrote a note on the scroll explaining the circumstances to the King and asking if there was some mistake about it.

The King, on receipt of the enquiry, merely passed a line through the Prime Minister’s remarks and added a dot after the figure '5' in his order, which made it read in the vernacular, '50 rupees.'

The Prime Minister was still more confused on receipt of this and thinking that someone was befooling him, wrote back again by a special and trusted messenger of his own, asking the King, whether these were his orders. Again, the King passed a line through his remarks and added another dot to his order. "Give this man a post on 500 rupees a month” was what the order now read. Dumb-founded, Nawab Mir Fazal-i-Ali Khan hastened to the Palace himself and explained to the King, that if there was no mistake and the order was meant to be carried out to the letter, the Royal coffers were so empty that this would be increasing the strain upon it, for the sake of an employee who would be worthless in any capacity.

'Nawab Sahib,' replied the King, "You are right. There is a mistake. Give me the parwana (order).’' Taking the scroll, he chuckled to himself and added yet another dot after the previous figure making it read '5,000 rupees a month.'

'The mistake is now rectified,' he said. The Prime Minister bowed in obeisance and was departing, when the King added, 'Now, convey my order to the man and send him to me.'

The Prime Minister obeyed the Royal command and soon the ragged man stood before him, as in a dream, unable to understand what would be the end of these developments, unable to realise what the real object of the King was. 'Release him,' said the King to the guard, and the shackles which bound him were removed. Then, turning to the released prisoner, the King said, 'Your thanks ate due to the Vazir (Prime Minister) for your promotion from 5 rupees to 5,000 rupees a month. Go now, and when the Court opens to-day, you will be created a Nawab.'

The surprised man salaamed deeply and was on the point of backing away from the Royal presence, when suddenly, the King turned and spoke again. 'But wait; you cannot go like that! It would be a disgrace to the position you now hold.' He then sent a servant to have the man bathed and groomed and ordered that some of his own clothes should be put on him.

In half-an-hour, the stranger was present before His Majesty, apparelled in garments of the richest brocade. 'Now,' said the King, 'you may go.' And then, again, he checked the stranger.

'But wait; you cannot walk in the streets like that! It would be a disgrace to the position yon hold.' Immediately, he ordered that a troop of Cavalry should be given him as a guard of honour, a retinue of 30 servants for personal attendance and 20 elephants, gaily caparisoned, to convey the new dignitary and his staff to the Palace vacated by the previous Prime Minister and now assigned to this new power in the land.

And so, the gorgeous procession proceeded on its triumphal march. An hour later, it retraced its footsteps to the Court, where, in Royal State a new Nawab was created and a new star scintillated—for a while—on the Mogul horizon.

What has been told before, is not as beautiful as what was told later. Many people, not as beautiful as their original color. In a terrible June night, the seven corpses found in a room measuring 10 ft x 10 ft, with no ventilation, the door to be chained from outside, were buried in the same grave outside the Palace gates. They were they girls of ages ranging from 11 to 17 years; but what of that? There ware many others like them in the Royal Court of King Nasir-ud-din Haider.

A weak mind like that of the King, haunted by suspicion at every turn, influenced by every soothsayer and adviser, and in many cases, by his Prime Ministers, was enough to sway him. On a whisper Raushan-ud-daula, one of his Prime Minister, slandering the king's step-mother, Badshah Begum. The King believed the crafty Raushan-ud-daula and flying into a rage, consigned a leather quilt, given by the Begum as a gift, to the flames.

The Begum was both distressed and alarmed to hear of the fate with which her gift had met and wondered what the King’s next move would be. Lest he should attack her again with his Army, she started recruiting a force of her own. In a few days, she had collected nearly nine thousand soldiers around her.

On hearing this, the Resident of the East India, alarmed, and to avoid further bloodshed, asked the Begum to disband her Army. The Begum, however, replied that she only retained them for self-protection; but the Resident insisted, and even employment would be paid from the Royal Exchequer. The Resident then wrote to the King saying that he had settled the matter and that the King should pay a sum of 15,000 rupees a month to his step-mother as a maintenance allowance and also two lacs in’a lump sum to her Army, which would be disbanded immediately.

The Resident’s letter reached the King that evening, and he issued directions to the Prime Minister, to put up a payment order before him the following morning for his signature, authorising the withdrawal of the money from the State coffers.

Dawn broke: the King lay motionless in his bed : the curtains were drawn: the King was dead. And courtiers in hushed voices, whispered the word 'poison’ to each other in the fax comers of the death chamber. Thus, passed King Nasir-ud-din Haider at the early age of 35."

Soon, the sun will arise, before she go, the Moon said, "And the mighty power fell. Whatever it is, no matter how strong, there will always be one after another, just like a night turns into a day, everything has its time.

Shakespeare might have been peering into these scenes of fallen glory when he wrote those memorable lines;

And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,

The cloud-capp’d towers, the gorgeous palaces,

The solemn temples, the great globe itself,

Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,

And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,

Leave not a rack behind.

And Allah knows best."

Citations & Reference:

- L.H. Niblett, India in Fable, Verse and Story, Thacker & Co

Bahasa

The Cast

"The writer said, 'After the 32nd chapter of 'Treasure Island,' two of the puppets strolled out to have a pipe before business should begin again, and met in an open place not far from the scenario," the Moon opened a story, after greeting with Basmalah and Salaam."One of them, the Captain, Alexander Smollet, took a guitar, and began to sing,

Are you going to Scarborough Fair?

Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme

Remember me to one who lives there

She once was a true love of mine

Tell her to make me a cambric shirt

Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme

Without no seams nor needle work

Then she'll be a true love of mine

Tell her to find me an acre of land

Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme

Between the salt water and the sea strands

Then she'll be a true love of mine

'Good morning, Cap’n,' said Long John Silver, with a man-o’-war salute and a beaming countenance. 'Tell me, what is the meaning of Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme?'

'Ah, Silver!' grunted the Captain. 'For the Romans, parsley was a symbol of death and rebirth; sage was a healing herb and thought to impart immortality and wisdom; rosemary was the herb of remembrance used both at weddings and funerals; thyme was said to give courage.' 

'Is it possible to make a cambric shirt without needle work? And 'to find an acre land, between the salt water and the sea strands'?' Long John Silver couldn't hide his curiousity. 'I think, the expression is used to denote an impossible task,' replied the Captain. 'You’re in a bad way, Silver.' added the Captain.

'Now, Cap’n Smollett,' remonstrated Silver, 'duty is duty, as I knows and none better; but we’re off duty now; and I can’t see no call to keep up the morality business.'

'You’re a damned rogue, my man,' said the Captain. 'Come, come, Cap’n, be just,' returned Silver, the one-legged cook. 'There’s no call to be angry with me in earnest. I’m on’y a chara’ter in a sea story. I don’t really exist.'

'Well, I don’t really exist either,' says the Captain, 'which seems to meet that.' 

'I wouldn’t set no limits to what a virtuous chara’ter might consider argument,' responded Silver. 'But I’m the villain of this tale, I am; and speaking as one seafaring man to another, what I want to know is, what’s the odds ?'

'Were you never taught your catechism?' said the Captain. 'Don’t you know, there’s such a thing as an Author?'

'Such a thing as a Author?' returned John, derisively. 'And who better’n me?'

'And the p’int is, if the Author made you, he made Long John, and he made Israel Hands, and Blind Pew, and George Merry—not that George is up to much, for he’s little more’n a name; and he made Captain J. Flint, what there is of him ; and he made this here mutiny, you keep such a work about; and he had Tom Redruth shot.' 

'Don’t you believe in a future state?' said Smollett. 'Do you think there’s nothing but the present story-paper?'

'I don’t rightly know for that,' said Silver, 'and I don’t see what it’s got to do with it, anyway. What I know is this : if there is sich a thing as a Author, I’m his favourite chara’ter. He does me fathoms better’n he does you—fathoms, he does. And he likes doing me. He keeps me on deck mostly all the time, crutch and all; and he leaves you measling in the hold, where nobody can’t see you, nor wants to, and you may lay to that! If there is a Author, by thunder, but he’s on my side, and you may lay to it!'

'I see he’s giving you a long rope,” said the Captain. 'But that can’t change a man’s convictions. I know the author respects me; I feel it in my bones.’

'And don’t he respect me?' cried Silver. 'Ah, you should ’a’ heard me putting down my mutiny, George Merry and Morgan and that lot, no longer ago’n last chapter.'

'God forbid!' said Captain Smollett solemnly. 'I am a man that tries to do his duty, and makes a mess of it as often as not. I’m not a very popular man at home, Silver, I’m afraid,” and the Captain sighed.

'Ah,' says John Silver. 'Then how about this sequel of yours ? Are you to be Cap’n Smollett just the same as ever, and not very popular at home, says you ! And if so, why it’s Treasure Island over again, by thunder ; and I’ll be Long John, and Pew’ll be Pew ; and we’ll have another mutiny, as like as not. Or are you to be somebody else ? And if so, why, what the better are you ? and what the worse am I ?'

'Why, look here, my man,' returned the Captain, 'I can’t understand how this story comes about at all, can I ? I can’t see how you and I, who don’t exist, should get to speaking here, and smoke our pipes, for all the world like reality ? Very well, then, who am I to pipe up with my opinions ? I know the Author’s on the side of good ; he tells me so, it runs out of his pen as he writes. Well, that’s all I need to know ; I’ll take my chance upon the rest.'

'It’s a fact, he seemed to be against George Merry,' Silver admitted 'musingly. 'But George is little more’n a name at the best of it,' he added brightening. 'And to get into soundings for once. What is this good? I made a mutiny, and I been a gentleman o’ fortune; well, but by all stories, you ain’t no such saint. I’m a man that keeps company very easy; even by your own account, you ain’t, and to my certain knowledge, you’re a devil to haze. Which is which? Which is good, and which bad? Ah, you tell me that! Here we are in stays, and you may lay to it!'

'We’re none of us perfect,' replied the Captain. 'All I can say is, I try to do my duty ; and if you try to do yours, I can’t compliment you on your success.' 

'And so, you was the judge, was you?' said Silver, derisively. 'I would be both judge and hangman for you, my man, and never turn a hair,' returned the Captain. 'But I get beyond that : it’s common sense, that what is good is useful too—or there and thereabout, for I don’t set up to be a thinker. Now, where would a story go to, if there were no virtuous characters?'

'If you go to that,' replied Silver, 'where would a story begin, if there wasn’t no villains?'

'Well, that’s pretty much my thought,' said Captain Smollett. 'The author has to get a story; that’s what he wants; and to get a story, and to have a man, given a proper chance, he has to put in men like you and Hands. But he’s on the right side; and you mind your eye! You’re not through this story yet; there’s trouble coming for you.'

'What’ll you bet?' asked John. 'Much I care if there ain’t,' returned the

Captain. 'I’m glad enough to be Alexander Smollett, bad as he is; and I thank my stars upon my knees that I’m not Silver. But there’s the ink-bottle opening. To quarters!'

Groaning, John Silver walked away, and the Captain, singing,

Tell her to reap it, with a sickle of leather

Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme

And gather it all in a bunch of heather

Then she'll be a true love of mine *)

"The writer closed the conversation by saying, 'I'm about to write the words : CHAPTER XXXIII.'" 

Before her light went out, the Moon said, "Treasure Island—originally titled The Sea Cook: A Story for Boys—is an adventure novel by Scottish author, Robert Louis Stevenson, telling a story of 'buccaneers and buried gold.' It is considered a coming-of-age story and is noted for its atmosphere, characters, and action.

Meanwhile, in the Southern Hemisphere, in the land of Insulinde, a name given by a writer, Eduard Douwes Dekker, there are many stories going on, where the atmosphere, characters, and action, revolve around the same few people. Our hope, is that there will be a better change in the atmosphere, characters, and action, so that there will be no regrets, 'Oh no, it's him  again, it's always him!' And Allah knows best."

Citations & References:
- Robert Louis Stevenson, Fables, Charles Scribner's Sons
*) "Scarborough Fair" written by Arthur Garfunkel & Paul Simon

Bahasa

The Race

"That night, I was above a port city, which, according to History, in the 17th century, a chief director of the VOC (Vereenigde Oostindische Compagnie), Jan Pietezoon Coen, named it Nieuw Hoorn, and then, Jacatra. Later, after a long time, Coen did not want to call it Batavia, after being reprimanded by Heeren Zeventien, the VOC leadership board, finally Coen, gave up." The moon greets with Basmalah and Salaam.

"If milk is set to boil in a saucepan, it boils over, " said she, "I do not know, and have never wanted to know, why this happens; if pressed, I should probably attribute it to a propensity in milk to boil over, which is true enough, but explains nothing. But then, I am not a natural scientist. In the same way, one can read, or even write, about the events of the past without wanting to know, why they happened, or be content to say that the Second World War occurred because Hitler wanted war, which is true enough, but explains nothing. But one should not then commit the solecism of calling oneself, a student of history or a historian. The study of history is a study of causes. The historian, continuously asks the question ‘Why?’; and so long as he hopes for an answer, he cannot rest. The great historian, or perhaps I should say more broadly, the great thinker, is the man who asks the question ‘Why ?’about new things or in new contexts. Herodotus, the father of history, defined his purpose in the opening of his work: 'to preserve a memory of the deeds of the Greeks and the barbarians,' and in particular, beyond everything else, 'to give the cause of their fighting one another.'

I was not intending to find the answer of 'What is history?,' because my light was centered on a unique architectural building, and it turned out, a stadium. It must be, I thought, be a new landmarks, a new history course for the city. Then, I got interested in the area around the stadium, there was a circular 'pitlane', and the race, just ended.

So, wanting to know who won the race, I looked around the circuit for information, but found nothing. My attention was drawn to a Kombi, contained several men. I didn't know exactly how many of them, what I did know, was a song from Men at Work, a band from the Land of Kangaroo, playing from the Kombi's car-stereo,

Traveling in a fried-out Kombi

On a hippie trail, head full of zombie

I met a strange lady, she made me nervous

She took me in and gave me breakfast 

She said, 'Do you come from a land down under?

Where women glow and men plunder?

Can't you hear, can't you hear the thunder?

You better run, you better take cover!'

Suddenly, there was a sound like tires screeching, 'cause by the driver braked suddenly. The rear passenger, awakened from his deep sleep, asked, 'What's wrong Bro?' The driver replied, 'Sorry... sorry Bro! There's a tortoise crossing!' Simultaneously, the passengers said, 'What? Turtle?' Other said abruptly, 'Tortoise in the yacht!'

'Yes! Look!' said the Driver, and all eyes of the men in Kombi, saw a tortoise, slowly but surely, walking across the road. Not a bit bothered, it kept walking, as if to say, 'Victory is always possible for the person who refuses to stop fighting.'

Eyes of the men followed where the tortoise walked, until it finally disappeared into the darkness of the night. 'Bro, we'd better stop for a bit, out front, by the beach, to get rid of the blue!' said one of them. All agreed.

Afterwards, the Kombi was parked by the beach, it was cooled by the breezy wind. There was silence for a while, until someone said, 'Bro, do you want to hear a story, about tortoise?' The rest replied, 'Certainly, tell us, please!' So, the man told them a story,

It was said, in Ancient Rome, when the toy had once taken Jupiter in the head to enter into a state of matrimony, he resolv’d for the honour of his celestial lady, that the whole world should keep a festival upon the day of his marriage, and so invited all living creatures, tag-rag and bob-tail, to the solemnity of his wedding.

They all came in very good time, saving only the tortoise. Jupiter told him ’twas ill done to make the company stay, and ask’d him, 'Why so late?'

'Why truly,' says the tortoise, 'I was at home, at my own house, my dearly beloved house, and home is home, let it be never so homely.' Jupiter took it very ill at his hands, that he should think himself better in a ditch, then in a palace, and so he pass’d this judgment upon him; that since he would not be perswaded to come out of his house upon that occasion, he should never stir abroad again from that day forward, without his house upon his head.

The moral of the story is that, a beggar, may be as proud and as happy in a cottage, as a prince in a palace.'

While others were nodding, Collins Hay's song, kept on flowing,

Buying bread from a man in Brussels

Six foot four, full of muscle

I said, 'Do you speak-a my language?'

He just smiled and gave me a Vegemite sandwich

And he said, 'I come from a land down under

Where beer does flow and men chunder

Can't you hear, can't you hear the thunder?

You better, better run, you better take cover!'

'I know a story about tortoise too!' said another. 'Then, tell us!' asked the other. 'I think, all of you, ever heard the story,

A Hare, insulted a Tortoise upon Account of his slowness, and vainly boasted of her own great speed in running. 'Let us make a match,' replied the Tortoise, 'I’ll run with you five miles for five pounds, and the Fox yonder shall be the umpire of the race.' The Hare agreed; and away they both started together. But the Hare, by reason of her exceeding swiftness, outran the Tortoise to such a degree, that she made a jest of the matter; and finding herself a little tired, squatted in a tuft of fern that grew by the way, and took a nap; thinking, that if the Tortoise went by, she could at any time fetch him up, with all the ease imaginable. In the mean while the Tortoise came jogging on, with a slow but continued motion; and the Hare, out of a too great security and confidence of victory, oversleeping herself, the Tortoise arrived at the end of the race first.

Up and be doing, is an edifying text; for action is the business of life, and there’s no thought of ever coming to the end of our journey in time, if we sleep by the way.

'Everyone's ready? Let's continue our journey!' said the driver. 'Ready Bro!' said another, 'But wait a minute, I'm curious, where did the winner of this afternoon's E-Prix, come from?' asked another, and the other answered, 'From a land Down Under!'

And so, the Kombi slid away, accompanied by a song,

Lying in a den in Bombay

With a slack jaw, and not much to say

I said to the man, 'Are you trying to tempt me?

Because I come from the land of plenty'

And he said, 'Do you come from a land down under?

Where women glow and men plunder?

Can't you hear, can't you hear the thunder?

You better run, you better take cover!' *)

Before she took her leave, the Moon said, "The race is not always to the swift nor the battle to the strong, but it is not often that the turtle beats the hare. In ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, the race is not always to the swift, nor the battle always to the strong, and the handshake or the first bump, is given to the most deserving. The one who wins in this life, for the most part, is the one who deserves to win; correspondingly, the one who loses, deserves to lose. Hugh Keough said it in a different way, 'The race is not always to the swift nor the battle to the strong, but that’s the way to bet.' And Allah know best."

Citations & References:
- Sir Roger L’Estrange, Kt., Fables of Aesop and Other Eminent Mythilogists : Morals and Reflections, John Gray and Co
- Samuel Croxall, D.D., Fables of Aesop and Others, Simon Probasco
*) "Down Under" written by Ronald Strykert & Colin James Hay

Bahasa