LUWI was a married man, a man of integrity, and a man who prided himself on his steady moral compass. However, lately, he was overwhelmed by thoughts that threatened to dismantle the essence of his identity. He was drawn, inexplicably and uncontrollably, to another man’s wife – a woman so radiant that she seemed to have stepped out of a dream.
He tried to convince himself it wasn’t real or, at most, a fleeting infatuation. After all, he loved his wife deeply; he was certain of that. So why did his heart flutter and his mind race whenever he thought of the other woman? What was wrong with him?
Luwi wrestled with these questions daily. He knew it was wrong; common sense, the law, and every social norm he valued screamed at him to bury these feelings. But no matter how hard he tried to suppress them, they clawed back, more persistent and vivid than before.
He despised himself for what had happened, yet a part of him recognised that he wasn’t entirely at fault. This predicament wasn’t something he had actively pursued; rather, it had come to him uninvited. After some reflection, he concluded that fate was the real antagonist in this scenario. It had orchestrated the events that led him to this point, almost as if by design.
However, he wasn’t one to simply accept fate’s harsh hand without a fight. Despite his initial self-loathing, he resolved to challenge the circumstances imposed upon him. He would not passively accept the outcomes that fate had seemingly set in stone; instead, he would strive to alter his path, to wrestle control back from the invisible forces that had led him astray.
The Day It Began
It all started on a quiet Sunday afternoon. Luwi was foraging for mushrooms in the jungle, a task he enjoyed for its solitude and the silent rhythm of nature. As he made his way back toward his paddy farm, his path brought him near the edges of another farmer’s land – a black pepper plantation owned by none other than the woman and her husband.
He assumed the place would be deserted. Most farmers in the area spent Sundays in the village, only returning to their fields on Monday mornings. But as Luwi descended a hill, he heard a faint sound from the stony stream below. Curious, he paused, parting the ferns to peer through the dense greenery.
And there she was.
She stood waist-deep in the clear, rippling water, her dark hair cascading down her back like a waterfall. The sunlight filtering through the canopy above cast her in a golden glow, accentuating every curve, every movement. She looked almost ethereal, like the flower of a water lily blooming in the wild.
Luwi’s first instinct had been to turn back, to retreat before he was noticed. But something rooted him to the spot. His mind screamed, “Don’t look! Don’t look! Leave now!” But his heart — his treacherous, foolish heart — whispered, “What harm is there in looking?”
He stared longer than he should have, his pulse quickening. Then, as if fate sought to punish him for his weakness, she lowered her sarong to rinse it in the water. His breath hitched, and in his panicked attempt to back away, he stumbled over a root and fell with a loud thud.
The fall shocked him back to his senses, and he scrambled clumsily to his feet. Without daring to look back, he fled, his face burning with shame. By the time he reached the other side of the hill, his heart was pounding — not from exertion, but from the storm raging within him.
That evening, Luwi avoided his wife, throwing himself into chores he hadn’t touched in months. He fed the chickens and pigs, scrubbed his clothes clean, and even spent an unusually long time bathing in the chilly river, muttering to himself about “cooling off the senses”. But no matter how hard he tried to distract himself, her image lingered in his mind.
The Encounter
Days turned into weeks, and Luwi couldn’t shake the memory of that day. He avoided her farm and took longer, more circuitous routes to his fields. But fate, it seemed, wasn’t done with him yet.
One Sunday after church, as he lingered outside chatting with other villagers, he heard her voice.
“Oh, Luwi!” she called out, her face lighting up as she and her husband approached. “I thought I saw you up the hill a while back. Was it you? I think I recognised your red hat.”
Luwi froze, his mind scrambling for an answer. That cursed hat – he’d always known the garish red was a mistake when his wife bought it for him. His palms grew clammy as he stammered, “Oh, uh, maybe? I don’t quite remember. I’ve been up there a few times … for mushrooms … you know, after the rain.”
Her husband chuckled, clapping Luwi on the shoulder. “You and your mushrooms,” he said. “I swear, you’d rather be in the jungle than at home.”
Luwi forced a laugh, but his heart was racing. When her gaze lingered on him too long, he excused himself, murmuring something about needing to check on his farm. As he walked away, he could feel her eyes on his back.
A Test of Will
The weeks that followed tested Luwi’s resolve. His wife, ever perceptive, began to notice his unease. She would catch him staring off into the distance, his brow furrowed, his hands fidgeting.
“Is something wrong, Luwi?” she asked one evening as they sat by the fire.
He shook his head, forcing a smile. “Just tired, that’s all.”
But she wasn’t convinced. One day, as he prepared to leave for the fields, she handed him a small parcel wrapped in banana leaves. “Take this to the pepper farm,” she said.
Luwi’s stomach dropped. “Why?”
“They lent us some tools last season,” she replied. “I’ve been meaning to return the favour. It’s only polite.”
He wanted to protest, to find an excuse, but he knew it would only raise suspicion. So he took the parcel and went to the farm, his heart heavy with dread.
When he arrived, she was alone, tending to the vines. She looked up as he approached, a warm smile on her face.
“Luwi!” she said. “What a surprise.”
He handed her the parcel, mumbling something about his wife’s gratitude. As she unwrapped it, revealing a small bundle of homemade snacks, she laughed. “Your wife is too kind.”
They stood in awkward silence for a moment before she spoke again.
“You know, I’ve always admired you, Luwi. You’re a good man. Honest, hardworking. Not many men like you around anymore.”
Her words, though innocent enough, sent a pang through his chest. He looked away, muttering, “I should go.”
But as he turned to leave, she reached out, her hand brushing his arm. “Luwi,” she said softly, “is everything all right? You seem … different lately.”
He froze, torn between the desire to confide in her and the need to protect himself. Finally, he shook his head.
“Everything’s fine. Take care.”
Uncle Luwi’s Reflection
Years later, Luwi would recount this chapter of his life over cigarettes and bitter coffee. By then, he was an old man, weathered by time but still sharp.
“I never told anyone this before,” he said, exhaling a plume of smoke. “Not even your aunt. But you, you’re different. You won’t judge me.”
I listened as he spoke about the shame, the guilt, and the constant battle between his heart and mind. He called it a “glitch”, a momentary lapse in an otherwise steadfast life.
“I never acted on it,” he said, his voice filled with quiet pride. “I wanted to, God help me, I wanted to. But I didn’t. And that’s what matters. I passed the test.”
I nodded, moved by his honesty. “You’re a better man than most, Uncle Luwi.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “No, lad. I’m just a man. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Nowadays, whenever I think of Luwi, I tend to focus on the profound inner conflict as he grapples with an unexpected attraction to another man’s wife.
This tension highlights the struggle between desire and duty, showcasing how intense emotions can challenge one’s moral compass and sense of self.
Luwi’s belief that fate plays a role in his feelings raises questions about personal responsibility, emphasising that even the most principled individuals can face moments of weakness.
His ultimate decision to refrain from acting on his desires underscores the importance of choice in shaping one’s character and destiny.
Luwi’s reflections later in life reveal significant growth and self-awareness, illustrating how grappling with inner turmoil can lead to a deeper understanding of oneself.
The complexity of love is evident as his deep affection for his wife contrasts with his fleeting infatuation, emphasising the multifaceted nature of human emotions.
Luwi’s candid acknowledgement of his struggles highlights the vulnerability inherent in being human, making his journey relatable and poignant, ultimately reminding us that the essence of integrity lies in the choices we make.
“The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy.” – Martin Luther King Jr (1929-1968), an influential American civil rights leader and activist.
DISCLAIMER:
The views expressed here are those of the writer and do not necessarily represent the views of the Sarawak Tribune. The writer can be reached at www.hayhenlin@gmail.com
