ABDUL MALIK OMAR
Friday, April 12th, 2012
Once upon a time, there roamed a mighty mountain covered with gleaming gold, treasures, and fortunes worth a king’s ransom.
Called the Golden Mountain, elders whispered that when it lands into nation’s shore, it will be lifted towards the greatest of great; its civilians becoming powerful, rich, and wise.
BUT, it is ever fickle in taste, only subjecting itself to a worthy master who can rightfully governed its wealth. Once the conditions changed for the bad, it leaves, and it never returns leaving its predecessors in wreck.
So there it roams across the ancient seas, seeking for such people
As it swam its sights suddenly caught about a small water village located at the island of Borneo.
There it saw the buzzing of life: Men building trading ports, Mothers feeding their child, and Grandparents selling agricultural produce in small boats they call sampans.
Needless to say the mountain was impressed. After careful consideration it set about a decision to share its gold to this civilization.
But as he approaches the settlement, he heard of a loud crying noise nearby. Looking down then and there he saw a small grain of rice weeping heavily as it floated on the waters.
“Why are you sad my little friend?” The Golden mountain asked.
“I have not been eaten. The villagers discard me away. Oh, mighty mountain, I am still eatable!”
The rice continued “Alas, I was thrown away into the waters and here I am now, weeping and slowly being wasted away.”
Upon hearing this, the Golden Mountain thundered “Why this is very bad! Any civilization that does not appreciate small wealth surely do not deserve great wealth at all!”
At that instant, heavy winds and clouds formed, sweeping the surroundings with huge unforgiving thunder storms. Rain began to fall and the villagers went inside their houses. It is going to be another stormy day.
Meanwhile, the golden mountain embraced the rice, swam away from the water village, and it was never heard from again.This Post is a tribute to Hajah Joharah Binti Haji Rahman, my Late Grandmother who shared this amazing story to me when I was 7 years old. My Nini is awesome.