Taib is no more.

25.12.2014.

To use the full name he preferred, even when registering for morning golf - "Hj. Mohd. Taib in Husin". But it's Cikgu Taib to most others, and "Pro kampong" to the rest of us in SIGC.

The last time we played was after  Hari Raya Puasa. The last time I met him was after Hari Raya Haji, at HUKM, Cheras, when he was admitted ,again , for the same complaint that hospitalised him the last time. In fact that same day that Maulud, Jane and I visited him at HUKM, he underwent a seven-hour operation.  It ended with a no-go for the pancreas, and had a bypass in his intestinal tract to allow him to process his food. The gang kept putting off visiting him at home after his discharge. Even this morning Maulud was supposed to come with me and visit him after our nine holes. That never happened.

I was at the club at 7.15 and was waiting for Maulud and Zainal "Pak Itam" when one of the morning golfers came and said "hey, your friend Taib passed away just now".

Apparently three days ago Taib was hospitalised because of a lung infection. He never recovered. At 6.15  today, Christmas Day, he died.

When Zainal Pak Itam last visited him at home, Taib was already weak and emaciated. They had to buy a special bed for him.

I called No.3 Son to tell him the sad news. When my son was  transferred mid-term at Form III from Damansara Utama to KGV, it was Taib, as Principal at KGV, who had the authority to give consent, and he approved on the spot. I reminded my son  about it.

Since I moved to Seremban in 1995, Taib, while still working, and later after he retired, was my regular golfing partner. But it started even before that, though not on a regular basis. I've been a member since 1978.  Taib was "the Kampong Pro".  I think he was playing to handicap 9 at that time, but his unorthodox style gave him this title. We had our usual golf arguments that to this day Ton, his wife, never comprehended. But  I think both of us enjoyed all our fights. He was always complaining about my refusal to give a discount whenever I won.  But he went 100% by the book. One mistake and you're gone, no quarters given.  The most I made in a single payment ( for one year's play ) was rm 2,000. But that was after a 50 % discount ! This last one year, without knowing about his illness, Taib's game had deteriorated. Now we know why.

I waited until Taib's remains in the "keranda" had been put into the funeral van and had moved to the cemetry before I left the mosque. I did not approach Ton. I didn't feel up to it.  I pray that Taib had been a good husband and father.

..........................................................................................................

1MDB

16.12.2014.

Incumbent PMs in Malaysia enjoy a kind of protective cocoon very few counterparts in other countries have. The slightest slip by the British PM and the media , his political opponents, and even his own Party pummels him. 

Thus the action of the Batu Kawan Deputy Divisional UMNO Head seems like a bolt of lightening that shakes the Party to its foundations. His own Division has distanced itself from him; the Secretary General told him to withdraw his Police report; the Vice President has jumped on the fracas in his usual style.

Today "1MDB" came out with a clear explanation about the whole affair. Except for the unnecessary inclusion of words like "insinuating" and "baseless"and the condescending tone, the explanation seems fair, and somewhat lifts the haze over  the murky issue.

This is why this came to be a  commotion - the shroud of secrecy thrown over it, made worse by the unclear replies from the Finance Ministry in the earlier part of the  episode. Too much money over too big acquisitions under murky circumstances seemed to have been going around for almost five years. 50 billion ringgit isn't chicken feed. If the objectives are noble, surely publicity wouldn't hurt. 

The PM shouldn't equate fair questioning and the need-to-know with evil intent. Above all else, he is sworn to serve the  country. Other people may not agree with his methods , but his operations  must be above board.  

.......................................................................................................

Ismail Noor.

10.12.2014.

I was supposed to go to Parliament at 12 today, to meet the Speaker of the Senate, but decided to visit the books expo at PWTC instead, and who did I  bump into ? It was my old SUO, Ismail Noor. Or as his calling card says "Datuk Dr. Ismail Noor, Speaker. Author. Trainer."

He didn't immediately recognized me, but soon did, and we shook hands warmly. It was a pleasant surprise.

The last time we met was when my cousin, Mahmud, passed away, and we held a tahlil at his then terrace house at Puncak Setiawangsa. It was not far across the road from Ismail's heavily barricaded bungalow. Ismail couldn't recall that meeting. I think he came because he was with the local surau's committee or something. Mahmud's widow, Timah, has since sold the house and moved to Beranang. 

Ismail used to have another "trainer" with him, who used the reverse spelling of his name as his set-up - "Ron Nissay". His name was Yassin Nor ! Cute ! Ismail remembered straight away.

Ismail was attired the way that I remember him when he used to come to MISC Jalan Conlay for one of his training sessions - lounge suit with buttoned-up collarless Iran-style shirt. Quite smart, actually.

We didn't stay long - he was going for his zohor prayers; I wanted to go to the expo. But I managed to condemn Dollah and said enough about Mahathir for Ismail to say "oh, Mahathir's man." I said "I think only two writers wrote about Dollah. You  are one of them."

I got his card, and he took my number, and we embraced, saying we don't know if we'll see each other again. Ismail is two-and-a-half years my senior, and we're both in our seventh series. He looked very good for his age. Even his hair is still black, unlike my silver top. Good to see you, old friend.

.....................................................................................................

I should be thankful at 70.

8.12.2014.

Friday 5th. December, 2014 (12 Safar 1436), that was three days ago. But the pc had to give me trouble. I only got it back this afternoon.  So, now I put it on record. Last Friday I reached my 7th decade.

I remember Tg. Malim town celebrating the crowning of Queen Elisabeth II, with fireworks at the town padang. It was 1953. I remember the gunshots exchanged between  Government Forces and the Communist terrorists in the rubber estate behind the "Rumah Empat" teacher's quarters we lived in. I remember the big piece of shit left by one of the Home Guards who were supposed to man the light tower outside the barbed wire built around the S.I.T.C. living quarters. He probably had "to go" but was too scared and did it in our house drain. 

I remember the long bicycle rides Kuala Pilah 1960 with the late Husin Ali, from Bkt. Temensu to Bemban, Senaling, and to Kg. Ibol, Terachi.  We stopped and Husin taught me how to eat "lombo" shoots in Bemban, and we got some mangosteens off the tree at Kg. Ibol. I remember the midnight "Beatles" movie at the "Rex" 1962.

I remember RSM Rositer and his booming voice on the laterite air strip in PD 1961. 

I remember Mokhtar Hashim as the UMSU President during the Freshies' Orientation for the entire 600 new undergraduates at the Arts Concourse in 1965. 

I remember the lucheon at the Melaka Governor's Residence in my honour as the new ADO of Alor Gajah in 1968. 

I remember the evening we were coming back in Sayed Mohamad's Mercedes 190 from Felda Bukit Jalor on May, 13th, 1969, and hearing on his car radio about the troubles in Kampong Baru, KL, and on reaching Jalan Peel in Cheras, saw groups of Chinese men on both sides of the road, holding sticks and cangkul handles, and on reaching the Jalan Tun Razak-Jalan Raja Muda to go to my rented place inside Kampong Baru, was stopped by the same portly Police Sargeant who served me the traffic summon at the university in 1965, and I told him I was returning to my rented house, and he let us through, and by then we saw the burning motorcycles and the men running about in panic, and then only realized we were in the middle of the infamous May 13 riots.

I remember the hajj  in 1983, and I prayed at the Multazam for a girl after the first three boys, and in 1984 Dekna was born, exactly 9 months and 10 days after the return from Makkah. 

I remember Idah sending the children to Sekolah Damansara Utama. I remember the trip to Hawaii to see Banjat, attending Adik's graduation in Sydney with Bang Piei and Cik Ani. 

I remember  the three graduations at UiTM Shah Alam for Memi and for Dekna's  double-degrees in Law. And I remember how the grandchildren came. All eight of them. And this coming Ramadan Dekna's  twins would make it ten, God Willing.

Friday night Dekna  and Haniff treated Idah and I to dinner at "the Manhattan Fish Shop" at the Jusco S2. She also gave me a dozen Titleist Pro V golf balls (probably the best there is, I said to her) and a FJ tee shirt made in Vietnam. So at least one of four children gave me something this year. Last year Memi gave me an "Oddysey" China putter, which I haven't used - my "Yess" USA putter is doing great right now, and you don't mess with putters. Dekna , Haniff and Idah also sang an uninspired "Happy Birthday to you" and I blew the lone tiny candle on the piece of carrot cake.

It's not a spectacular life, but I'm thankful for memories and little mercies.  At 70.

...........................................................................................................

A small correction on Dekna's # 9

I have to make a small correction on Dekna's expectant 9.

It's 10.

More later. N.B.


.................................................................................

Husayn the Eighth

4.11.2014.

Just two days after Arish the Seventh, Husayn the Eighth came to this world. And at 3.8 kg, he seems to fit the great name he now carries. His elder brother, Ali the Fifth, was born, also on a Monday, 1 year, 4 months and 8 days ago. He was a full kg lighter !

We made it to Pantai Medical Centre when Lula was in labour with Ali. This time we only made it one full day after Husayn was born. This time Wafa is with us, and this morning she had to go for one of those shots at the clinic, and only then could we go to the Prince Court Medical Centre to see mother and new-born. 

Husayn looks well, with No. 3 Son's features and Idah's complexion. He's a long one, too, at 50+ cm. If he takes after my late father-in-law, he'll be a tall Malay.

As you can see, the seventh and eighth grandchildren are the latest addition to the clan, coming almost together. And Dekna is, God Willing, eight months from producing grandchild number 10 !

No.2 Son prefers the letter "A" for his children. No.3 Son looks to Islamic history. Ali was the Holy Prophet's cousin and s-i-l. Husayn was Ali's son. The Holy Prophet  encouraged Muslims to give their children good names, and in fact changed the "bad" names of a number of Companions. A hadis says "if you have 3 boys, name one after me". That's why No. 3 Son starts with "Ahmad".

I pray that Husayn will receive the "barakah" of his namesake. Amin.

............................................................................................................

Arish Ashraf

2.11.2014.

Friday Adik called from Dubai, on one of his many trips there, asking us to visit Ija who was in labour pains with their fourth boy - you know today with all this scanning stuff they know early if it's a boy or girl. So the three of us -me and Idah and Dekna (with little Wafa) went in Dekna's car to SJMC. We found Ija chit-chatting with Lela in the waiting room ! We were imagining she'd be lying in a bed. 

As it was already 9 and I had to take my pills with some food, I left them and went to one of the restaurants outside the hospital. Just as I finished, Dekna called and wanted us to go home right away. Wafa had started to cry hysterically and wouldn't stop. So we went back to Seremban. Wafa only stopped crying in the car. That was almost 11.30. 

Adik had called from the airport, having landed at about 10. I told him we couldn't wait because of Wafa.

Arish was born at 3.30 a.m. Saturday morning, all 2.9 kg of him, just like his brothers.

Saturday I took the bus after my game with Dato' Sulaiman, alone. Idah had to go somewhere, and Dekna had to wait for Hanif. Adik and his two elder boys picked me up at the Subang Jaya railway station.

A brief visit to see Ija and my seventh grandchild, and then I took Acad and Amir on the train back to Seremban for an overnight visit. Arish was pink with very red lips, eyes wide open.

The two rascals wanted to eat, so we stopped at KL Central, and dinner cost me fifty bucks. But they cleaned up their plates, I was glad. I conspired with them so they'll keep hidden on arriving home, and  surprise their granny. And they kept their word.

The guy who sat next to me in they train was watching us, and guessed right - "cucu ke ?". We chatted all the way to Seremban.

This morning we're supposed to go to KLCC before going back to Subang Jaya. For the moment the two and their granny are still asleep. Ajim, the third boy, must be wondering where his two brothers are. He was crying when they left him yesterday. He's too small to come. That's all five "A's" in the family - Ashraf, Arsyad, Amer, Azim and now Arish. "Z" seems a long, long way to go.

............................................................................................................

From Bukit Temensu to Madison.

20.10.2014.

Karim Md. Nor and I went back a long, long time, to old Bukit Temensu days. He built a clay badminton court of sorts in front of his small kampong house, and many of us played there after school. Those days we had wooden rackets and "Blue Bird" shuttle cocks, and if you hit the frame there was a rule that you could replay the point. Unless you opponent had hit back the shuttle cock, anyway. Then it was considered in play for having been taken. So the exclamation "taken !". Udin Sekayo, Karim's cousin, used to laugh at us playing, mimicking "taken, taken !" 

Udin  Sekayo has died.  And so has Karim. He was actually Dr. Karim, probably the first Ph.D from Bukit Temensu. The other one was Dr. Anuar "Ang". There are others now, I'm sure.

At home we siblings used to tease Acam "Karim, Karim", suggesting they should match up. It was just a tease, and she would get mad. Eventually she did marry a Karim, but a different one. This one from Rantau.

Calit and I went up to Karim's apartment in Madison, USA,when he was doing his Ph.D at Wisconsin. It was December, and I remember 13 inches of snow was reported that day. Calit had finished his Bachelor's degree,  at nearby Whitewater, and I came to attend his graduation, except they call it "commencement".  When we played with the snow in the yard, one of the American tenants shouted "hey!  you never seen snow before ?" Well, it's not so common in Malaysia !

Karim's family was with him.  His young children  picked up the language pretty fast. They sounded very American, using "awesome" and similiar American slangs. When Mek, their mother, interjected in English, it was in completely jarring Malaysian English, ha ha!.I wonder if they speak the same way, now, though I doubt it. We used to have a neighbour behind our house in Damansara Utama who had similiarly spent time in the US, and the children also sounded very American. 

Talking about sounding American, in 1962-64 there were 2 American "Peace Corps" teachers at TMS and TKS, the English schools in Kuala Pilah. A guy, Charles Pinkus, was in TMS, the boys school. A lady, I forget the name, was in TKS, the girls school, where my sister studied. One day the Peace Corps lady in TKS was asking  for some cotton, but the girls didn't catch the American accent, until after the teacher gesticulated and then it struck the girls - "oh, ko ten!" - cotton pronounced in Kuala Pilah !

Karim passed away several years ago, soon after his retirement. I went to the house at Taman Bukti. In fact I didn't know he was staying there, although I would meet him a few times at the sundry shop near where I now live. He died too young.

Sunday was Karim's daughter's wedding. Mek remembered to invite me and I went with Idah. Mek was waiting for her guests at the entrance of the rented hall. When I shook her hand I asked "this must be Karim's son ?" motioning to the young man by her side, who  looked like Karim.   He was the son.

We lingered after our meal, waiting for the bridal couple to come, and me looking for familiar faces. So I met many. Derma and Bustamam, and Ali and many other cousins of Karim. Marriages bring back so many memories, but sometimes they are sad memories. Kak Long Nap, Karim's cousin, asked the all too familiar question "are you in good health ?"

I remember going with Karim to the KP hospital's caged ward for the mentally ill. We went to visit his father, Cikgu Mohd. Nor. He asked Karim to tear a piece of banana leaf growing outside the ward. He fashioned a spout with it, to pass water through the grate by the ward's wall. I wonder, now, years later, what about passing motion ?

'Tis a long, long way from Bukit Temensu to Madison. Even then Karim could joke about Cikgu Dol, a character also from Bukit Temensu. He, too, passed away several months ago.  I pray that they all receive peace from their Maker.

...................................................................................

Taib, "Pro-kampong".

20.10.2014.

"Pro-kampong" has landed on bed 18 at HUKM. In fact Taib is quite ill. Mustapha said yesterday that the Sunday operation went ok.

When No.3 Son was in Form III in Damansara Utama and we moved to Seremban, it was Taib, the Principal of  KGV Secondary, who admitted his transfer there on the spot when I went there to see him. I told Idah I must visit him at HUKM after being told he's been warded there for the last two weeks.

I pulled Maulud and Ah Soh along, and we went in Dekna's car. We were told earlier that the operation would be on Monday. Zaiton said when we saw them at the ward that they have brought it forward to that day, Sunday.

The last time we played together Taib was clearly not well. He had lost a lot of weight. At the ward on Sunday he looked worse. His face was sunken, and both arms bony with wrinkled skin.  We found him asleep and curled foetal-like under the white hospital blanket. Ton said he'd just fallen  asleep and I said not to wake him up. But he woke up anyway, and saw Maulud and then Ah Soh and me, giving us a weak smile and a limp handshake.

Taib was a sportsman in his younger days, and golf was a natural sequence. But he played right down to a single handicap in his own way, thus the monicker "kampong pro". His swing was his own, but his game was deadly. 

Since his and Ton's retirement the couple always play together, to our chagrin. We always want to take Pro kampong, but without his meddling half, but no, it has to be Ton all the time. 

Taib is younger than me, but there's no accounting for health. I don't know what the real affliction is, but we all know that he smokes too much, sometimes teeing off with a lighted cigarette in his lips !

When we took our leave that Sunday, I said "rest well Taib". I hope he comes back soon.

.........................................................................................................

Omar

19.10.2014.

Omar called late yesterday, asking for a game this morning. Declining my suggestion for just 9 holes, saying only 18 holes would make it worth his trip from Bangi, I agreed, with the proviso that, failing to get a partner at such short notice, we'd just play two balls. So when we met this morning and he queried "where are the others?" I reminded him of our sms about carrying on just the two of us. Next time, I said, give me at least two days' notice. This I reminded him again at the end of the game, which he concurred.

There wasn't any problem with our arrangement, notwithstanding the club's ruling that a two-ball flight has no standing on weekends. As usual the club simply has no crowd on any day. The four-ball walking group ahead had teed off way ahead, and there was no one behind. This must be the least populated  club in the world. The course is ok. The weather to day was fine. There were people playing. It simply wasn't crowded like all other golf courses would be on a weekend.

I've known Omar for some time, all because of golf, but we've not played together that often. We have our own regular partners. Playing together, just the two of us to day, we got to talk more than usual. But we still finished early - it was half-past eleven, from our seven-thirty start. We had the buggy, and didn't lose any ball, except I took extra time to find mine on the tenth hole, the rascal hiding in a thick patch after the second shot.

Omar played in the captain's trophy. I was quick to comment on the poor selection of participants. Tiong Meng, a regular player on the monthly medal and the inter-club games,  and a committee member to boot, wasn't selected, as was also left out, Jamaluddin, the club's auditor. And here was Omar, who cannot have more points than these two guys, selected. I mentioned my own story about reporting dangerous play officially to the club. Instead, I was issued a warning! 

I suggested that Omar continue working until full retirement, when he intimated that he's thinking of calling it quits when his bank's merger takes place. It's not so much the pay, I said, although he'll get compensated if he takes leave. It's  having something to do. Of  my own now 15-year retirement, I said I'd been doing several things, and presently am still active in some NGO, political and voluntary work. 

 

Talking about his bank, I reminded Omar to try and get for me a pass for upcoming CIMB Classic at KLGCC.   He said he'll try. I said last week I went to the Sime Darby LPGA at the same venue, courtesy of Zainal Pak Itam's  VIP pass. I had a nice time at the Chairman's Pavillion and got some nice goodies !

Omar's drive is longer. Admitted. But "drive is for show, putt for dough", I reminded him. So after giving him some putting tips, I won two balls for the first 9 and three balls for  the second 9, and I said that should be good for my share of the buggy fee of RM 58!

I paid for the  drinks. Omar shouldn't feel too bad for losing.

.........................................................................................................

Yahya Yaacob.

11.10.2014.

I saw Hank's missed calls, two of them, made after 9 this morning, after my golf game and after I'd come back from Hairul's workshop, having sent Dekna's car for  routine servicing. That was about 2 p.m. I called Hank back. It was about the passing of a dear friend, Yahya Yaacob. I told Hank if I had gotten the sad news at 8 I would have abondoned my game and paid my respects, and with Hank in Seremban, I would have gone with him. He also didn't go because of some prior committment. 

"Jaye" was from RMC's days, both in PD and Sg Besi. I wasn't in the same Coy, but because we often met when working in KL, we were friends all along. He came to two of my children's weddings, missing the third one for some reason ( but he called to say regrets ) and the last one because he was sick. That was how I found out about his illness that finally, today, took him away forever.

Jaye  was last with JKR.  I went to his house once, years ago. I think it was his son's or daughter's wedding. He spoke about his "humble home", and how we, his old college pals, must have grand houses. Jaye had a great house in that great PJ neighbourhood, in fact. And not all of the rest of us live in palaces, at least not me !

Like many RMC alumni, Jaye was a sportsman. Except for most of his career he didn't play golf. Until rather late, that is. But having played other sports, he didn't take long to acquire the skills to play decent golf, and boy, he really made up for lost time. He became a constant in many of the budak boys' game until he became ill.

Speaking for myself, I'll miss you, dear friend. May God shower upon you His Mercy, amin.

Al Fatihah.

............................................................................................................

leaked exam papers

28.9.2014.

This hoo-haa about leaked exam papers isn't new. Since my secondary school days, and those were a long, long, long time ago, we've heard about it. Fortunately, I was never victim to it.

It's symtomatic of Malaysians' heavy hinge on examination results on education.

The fact that every new Education Minister from Tun Razak to Muhyiddin wants his brand left on the long-suffering Ministry does not help. 

I've lost track of how many reports have been presented on education - "Razak", "Rahman Talib"  so on so forth. 

I subscribe to the sentiment that we  lost the opportunity at a cohesive nation-building through an English schools system that has been abolished. I still have friends of all races from those "English school" years. We  meet, once in a long while, though, and we speak like old brothers despite our different cultures.  We bonded because of scouting and sports and genuinely committed teachers.

You abolish this, then with every change of Education Ministers you change also  schools types, examination types, subjects and methods of teaching types, and have teachers burdened with non-teaching work. And then we wonder what is the matter ?

The shift in UMNO's power-base from the Malay teachers to the Malay "businessmen" ( I put in quotations because that is another story ) has caused havoc to education in this country. It's too late maybe for the Malay political leaders to finally realise that it's in the school where a nation is built. 

But education isn't about exams only. The emphasis on exams means exam paper leakages won't be plugged, until a creative, meaningful education system not entirely reliant on examinations is installed.

............................................................................................................

The old man and his legacy.

24.6.2014.

Looks like the old man is the only one with the balls to call out on  royalty. Whatever deficiency our local brand of government suffers, listening to its detractors, the rule of law is clear about political power - win an election or shut up.

His No. 3 predecessor picked him to be his deputy, but he took much longer than usual in making that choice. He said  "I hope I have nade the right choice". It wasn't a joyful day. There were more favoured sons. Certainly he regretted it after he left, because eventually he turned away from the old Party altogether in disgust. That's on record. 

No. 6 had better start showing some "chutzpah", to use the Jewish slang, or risks being "chutney", to use the Indian one.

I cry for old, bold days of summer. But then we have one eternal summer here to simmer in.

I'm thankful for the old man and his legacy.

............................................................................................................

Iraq.

16.6.2014.

The contentious debate about the "legality" of the Western-led Iraqi War of 2003 will not disappear even as the new civil war  erupts  in the poor country. Even as Western-concocted terms such as "jihadist" are being liberally and falsely used, the continuous harangue on bad things associated with Muslim peoples deserves absolutely no  merit.  

Concocting was not difficult in the decision-making  by the US, with  its European allies, to get an excuse to wage a unilateral and  one-sided war against Saddam Husin and his imagined WMD.   It didn't matter that the poor bloke was useful to the US  during the war on Iran. All armed Islamic states must be cut to size when the opportunity is there. Thus Egypt, Iran and Turkey are on the short list.  In the meantime Western media can be depended to continue highlighting isolated stories of "honour" killings, repressed hidden musical talent, and the limiting of youth's  taste for Western culture, to show to the world how bad Islam is. It stoked the unrest in the Arabian states, and when it became violent, neatly labelled it "the Arab Spring."

Iraq was civilised long before the Europeans landed in the Americas. Bagdad was a city of learning two thousand years before George Washington led the rebellion against England. The multi-cultured fabric of the Islamic world is simplistically  lumped as "Sunni-Shia".

For eight years the US-led occupation of Iraq successfully repressed and bottled-up the different internal needs of the ancient state. When it finally abandoned Iraq in 2011, no one should be surprised what's happening now is happening.  

..........................................................................................................

Ambam.

15.6.2014.

Ambam helped mom mainly with the washing, but probably also with this and that. Her brother, Ayin, used to keep mom company when everyone else was  away. I remember her as the chubby girl from Bukit Temensu who came each morning to the house. But was it from the Residential Area days or only from the Tebat Kering days? That I can't remember. 

Her father was Manaf, the chain-saw man - because I always saw him cycling to work with a big chain-saw strapped to his bicycle. In later years he started to come to the surau. In those early days he was the thick, strong guy who came back from work and at about magrib time would  cycle back to town for probably his teh tarik nights out with his friends. And he was strong. Once mom asked him to cut down an old coconut tree stump, and he did it all by himself. He dug around the roots, and then physically pulled out the whole stump.

Although Ambam was the hired house help, we treated her like family, just like we treated an earlier help, Sawa's younger sister whose name escapes me now. She had since died from some liver problem. She was a smoker, not a common Malay habit among the ladies in the kampong, and mom used to ask us to buy a pack of "rokok tembak" - the common brand - ready before she came to the house each morning.

So when Ati smsed me last week about an invitation from Ambam for her daughter's wedding, I arranged with Calit to attend. Ati didn't attend because she has "kayap", and Conen went to Sawah Lebar for another kenduri. But Mushitok was there with wife Yah and son  Rizal, who passed me rm 20, but not before Yah spotted it, ha ha.

Ambam said she's 65 now. Wow, that was a long time ago, this episode in our lives. She said she worked with a private company, an estate or something, until retirement, and is now on SOCSO. Unfortunately, she's now using a wheelchair to move about. She says her legs are now no good. I didn't want to ask more.

We missed the housing estate at first, driving past it to Batu Kikir. We got directions and  turned back. Surprisingly most of the guests were female. But I met Amat Kancil, Conen's classmate. I remember him driving his "motokar kasut". I can't remember the Japanese model, but it was shoe-shaped with a curtailed rear, like a "kasut". He was with his wife, and has 16 grandchildren now ! "You got married early" I said.

Ambam's father, who's from Melaka,  had died and is buried in Jalan Melang. But her mother was sick and brought back to Klebang, her place of origin, by Ambam's sister who was a nurse and working in Melaka. The mother, Besah, died  and was buried there. Ambam's 13 siblings are all over the place, all married and settled down with families of their own, except for Salleh. He fell with bad company and has lost contact with the family. Ayin said he was with Amat Bisu initially. That was where it all started to go wrong. But Amat Bisu has come back to Melang, but there's no Salleh. 

........................................................................................................

Malay politics.

9.6.2014.

I'm refering to a few news articles in recent days - MAS's continuing losses, YTL's couch  criticism, Johor's palace intrigue, GST's bad publicity, and UMNO's affirmative action. The substance for these isn't new. The spin is. And all relate to Malay politics.

UMNO was born out of the Malays' demand for a say in their own government of the day. Having secured political power since Independence, UMNO has survived both external and internal threats to its dominance right through 13 General Elections. Sure, the last two saw its position being cut down spectacularly, but the basic Malay support has  given UMNO continued control at the polls. Remarkably, the obvious loss of a solid Malay backing didn't destroy enough Malay support for it to be toppled from power.

The internet and all the media have put the political battle in Malaysia  in a totally new and volatile environment. Fact and fiction have never been more blurred. And the damage more instantaneous. The key now is who gets to exploit the new media more. 

The GLCs are supposed to help the Malays/Bumiputra gain position in the economy. But if the GLCs lose money, how can that  be ? Airlines all over the world have lost money before. But the airline industry is here to stay.  Lost operators have remodelled. Airlines became leaner and meaner.  MAS should learn from this.

YTL can talk now. Could it, would it, before ?  Talk is cheap. Gratitude isn't. 

Johor answers to the same constitution as the rest of the country. Getting close to the "Constituional" monarchy doesn't mean folding before it. UMNO fought for the continued and  proper  position of the Malay Rajas, but the elected government calls the shot. Any member of a royal household who wants to weild political power must stand for election, pure and simple.

If only three  countries in the world cannot implement GST, then they must lack something everyone else has. Balls.

You can't rationalise history. It's  a done deal. This is "Tanah Melayu". But the Malays have never rejected "outsiders". They have benefitted from the growth of the economy because of immigrant enterprise and labour. And the immigrants have benefitted, and have become responsible citizens. They made a choice to come.  They were enterprising,  and because of the enterpreneurship, the  country has progressed, and the Malays appreciate that. And they should.  "Affirmative action" is about giving room at the dining table, not stealing from Ah Chong  to pay  Ahmad. And  the table has grown.  Let's move forward  from there.

............................................................................................................ 

Getting back to blogging.

7.6.2014.

I know it's been a while. So much has happened.. I've kept notes, but just couldn't pull myself to the old pc. So here goes.

Wafa came to our lives in a rather roundabout  way.

Dekna  was only a week past her seventh month pregnancy when on Saturday 26th. April, around 3.30 in the wee hours of the morning she had a "leakage" and was admitted to a private hospital close to the in-laws' place. The gynaecologist only came to attend at about 8.30, and when Dekna  still had her problem, the hospital gave up on her "because of equiptment shortage" and she was referred to the Government Tuanku Jaafar Hospital that night. That's a private hospital for you.

Sunday morning the attending gynaecologist here decided that there was a risk of respiratory stress and the hospital's ventilators were all being used.  The next available was at Sultan Ibrahim Hospital in JB. A hospital ambulance with an accompanying doctor and a nurse took Dekna  there, leaving at about 12 noon. I followed in Haniff's car with Idah, who was crying. Dekna  was calm when she was pushed in her trolley into the ambulance.

Upon reaching SIH at about 4 p.m. Dekna  was pushed straight into the labour room for "screening", the pushed into the OT, because by then she was completely "dry" and the baby had to be delivered by caeserian birth.

That was how Wafa came into our world, all 1.6  kg of her. She wailed and that was a good sign - no breathing problem. In fact in the end the ventilator wasn't necessary.

Wafa was in the ICU, however, because she was premature. She stayed for 19 days in hospital. On discharge after weighing 1.92 kg, the stipulated weight, everybody who was in JB came home to Seremban on Thursday 15th. May. Now she's fast putting on weight, feeding and sleeping as well as to be expected. Only the brand new parents are learning the hard way how much sacrifice is required in child care - and that's just to mention only sleep.

Then there was the Veteran UMNO AGM in KL.

We didn't get PWTC as was much lauded before. The veterans were the first members to have contributed in more ways than one to the construction of PWTC. But even with ample notice and  the the supposed attendance of the PM, and a total number of  659 delegates, there was no room available in any of the "Dewans".

So off we trooped to the Regency Hotel in Jalan Raja Alang, in front of the infamous Chow Kit Road pasar. The conference hall wasn't too bad,  but obviously it's no PWTC. As for the rest of the place, I think it's not out of place it being at the Chow Kit Road area, if you get my drift.

Anyway, I got to be elected into the Central Committee for the 2013-2016 term. Actually it was a "no contest". There were 25 candidates for 25 posts.  But at least I got to deliver a "motion" that was duly passed.

The only side note was Ustaz Ahmad & wife with me and Jamaluddin were made to wait from 6 p.m. till 8.30 p.m. at a workshop nearby. A  broken left rear door of Ustaz Ahmad's Proton Perdana had to be fixed.

Next was the MUBARAK AGM in Kuantan.

This time the delegates were much smaller, only 141, but the hotel was much, much classier - the Zenith. The whole show was sponsored by the Pahang State Government for about  RM 300,000.

The food was excellent.

Finally the Telok Intan bye-election.

To me it was a surprise win for Gerakan and  BN. But a win is a win.

Now let's see what happened.

In the 13th GE, Mah Siew Keong of Gerakan ( it's the same guy ) obtained 20,000 votes and lost to the late Seah Leong Peng of DAP who got 27,000,  a majority of more than 7,000 with 900 spoilt votes. This time around Mah got the same number of votes - 20,000 - and beat newcomer and female  Malay youngster Dyana who got exactly 19,919 votes. The majority was  238. There were more spoilt votes -  about 500. These  spoilt votes are everywhere ! It simply meant that  7,000 Chinese voters thought that DAP cannot lose and didn't bother to  vote.

Maybe the MCA President got it right this time. The win could be described as a flash in the pan. But there's a lesson somewhere. 

.......................................................................................................

   

Dr. Norafidah.

3.3.2014.

Dek Mah & daughters finally pulled it off - Nora got a warm, noisy and hugely successful send-off  from family & friends last Saturday. I don't know what happened in Cheras Sunday because of the aforementioned funeral, but Taman Tun was great. And this was with the deliberate pains of making everything plain & simple, even dropping the "Dr." on the invitation card. Except Dek Mah's photostated directions for the Cheras venue - the plan was more complicated than the actual thing.

The groom still has a few months of housemanship before returning home to KL, while Nora is now in KK. No news on honeymooning is forthcoming, but for the bridal night, they were  booked at a hotel somewhere, although the poor mother has graciously vacated her room for the couple. The dentist might practice in KK,too, he indicated. Otherwise it would be another long distance relationship like the present one. 

The marriage vows conducted at the Taman Tun mosque went smoothly and finished ahead of  schedule, and we were at the Community ahead of the caterers. I was one of the two witnesses, the other being Dato' Mohd. Zin Yusof from the groom's side. Small world, indeed. The groom's dad was Din's classmate at medical school. Mohd. Zin is from Lonek, Idah's kampong, and I know him since  he was with KTM and I was at MISC and we often attended the same meetings,  played golf in the same group, and sometimes  singing at the same karaoke ! That he was from a religious school before entering university was not something obvious, unless, as in my case, you happened  to know it. Certainly it did not hamper his karaoke style.  Anyway, the both of us marriage witnesses promptly and simultaneously said "sah" with only one reading of "ijab qabul" from the bride's father and the groom. Aishah the bride's sister sobbed quietly, but Nora the bride was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

There were a few surprises for me at the reception. I met Yusof, my younger brother from a different mother, after all these years. I invited him for all my children's weddings, but he never came. I was saddened seeing him walking with those crutches. I didn't ask him about it. Miza came with his wife and daughter, and two grandchildren who are Dek Mah's students. Megat "budak boy" - a.k.a. Dato' Dr. Megat Burhanuddin, now the V.C. Of Nilai University, showed up. When I asked the connection, he just pointed his finger at his wife. Dato' Sahak the ADUN from Lenggeng came. His wife was Dekma's classmate from TKC.   The Terachi group also came, including Dato' Sam of the "play it again, Sam" fame of the 1990's KL stock exchange bull run. He should know a thing or two about weddings, having been  married more than once. Probably that part was from Hj.Hassan, Sam's father himself. But the biggest surprise of all was Alang Ipin coming in big, black  pointed shoes. He is always in slippers. But maybe Miza had taken over from Alang Ipin. Miza came in slippers.

Well, here's wishing Nora all the best in their future life together. As the sign behind Raja Alias' door at Jalan Maktab says, "life is a cup of tea. It depends how you make it." I hope the new dentist in the family will keep the tea sugar-free, and keep all the cavities out.

...........................................................................................................

Bang Sudin.

2.3.2014.

Bang Sudin, 82, died at around 9 p.m. Saturday 1st March, at the Kampong Baru Medical Centre, KL, the day Nora got married. Kamal called around 9.30 when I was bringing back Acad & Ameng from Subang Parade because on Friday I promised to take them there after the kenduri at Taman Tun. I was tired and had hoped the kids had forgotten, but no way.

My first visit to Bang Sudin's house in Kota Bharu - it was the government quarters at Jalan Bayam - must have been early '72, not long after our marriage in '71. After that there were maybe one or two more visits before Bang Sudin got transferred to KL. Then it was visits to his rented house in Taman Ibu Kota, behind Lee Rubber in Gombak. It's unrecognizable now, with all the new shopping malls and new roads and flats and stuff. And the new traffic, my God !

During the burial at 11 at  Makam Hj. Said, Hj. Latiff came and I spoke to him through his car window. They were classmates, Bang Sudin and Hj. Latiff. Hj. Latiff walks with a cane now, and looks his age. Bang Sudin was "Ochu" at school, "Pak Ndak" to his wife's side of the family, and "Bang Ngah" to his side of the family. But Ari and I used to call him "Cik Sam".

It's remarkable that the heart bypass he had when I was still working has lasted that long. It was partly his heart, partly his respiratory problem that caused him to be in-and-out of hospital these last two months. He never came back home after the last hospital admission. I managed to visit him at hospital twice, but Idah went numerous times.

Bang Sudin and Kak Mot usually had their late breakfast in the eating places around Seremban. Infrequently, we used to take him to lunch, once driving all the way to Nilai to a quaint place on the hill along the road to Sepang, the old way. Maybe they were tired of eating home cooking, though I think Kak Mot was just too lazy to cook, but they seemed to enjoy these outside meals. I know Bang Sudin liked the food at the restaurant in the shopping complex at Bangi, where both daughters now live.

Band Sudin shared with me the purchase of 2 acres of agricultural land in Batu Kikir back in the early 80's. The plan was to plant some fruit trees, but I never got around to it. We finally sold it to Dato' Salim a few years ago. When I gave Bang Sudin's share of the money, he grinned and kissed my cheque.

We had the first of three "tahlil" just now, at his house. I choked when I read the "Yasin" during burial, but this  tahlil was calm, unemotional. Maybe we realized that his time was close. Even Kak Long, so distressed when they wrapped the shroud this morning, managed to smile when we were eating just now. The loss surely is no less felt.

.................................................................................................

Dek Mah & daughters.

1.2.2014.

There's not a single male in the household - Dek Mah & daughters. And there's a wedding in less than a month.

She's always been independent, from boarding school to now. The four daughters are showing the same trait, which is great. But it can be exasperating, too. Like this coming wedding.

Fair enough, the daughter wants a simple affair, and we can appreciate the request. Acam almost never calls, but recently she called, complaining about no plans for door gifts for the guests. We're inviting people to come. They would bring gifts, surely, and the host should reciprocate. It's the custom. I said Dek Mah wants to do the right thing, but she's giving way to the daughter's wishes, and all the usual frills are no go. I told Acam to call the bride-to-be personally because if there's anyone she'll  listen to it's her aunt. Sure enough, the next day she called back saying the neice has relented.

Dek Mah came today and I thought she had finalised everything with the missus. She'd passed some  money to Ati. I reminded Idah to fix the date for making the wajit. Ati has to buy  the "gula anau", the "ori" ones, otherwise the wajit wouldn't taste nice.

I told No.2 Son we'll come to his house on 28th and leave early for the aqad nikah the next morning. Dek Mah wants us to have breakfast at the house first, so we'll do that.  The reception follows the aqad, and the bridegroom's return reception would be the next day, Sunday. Apparently the bridegroom's dad went to medical school together with Din.  Small world.

Dek Mah is left with her daughters after her husband left  her some years ago. Initially I thought she took it a bit hard, but I think it's behind her now. Theirs was a boy-meets-girl thing when they both studied in England. But unexplicably, the husband left  for someone he befriended here, after the four girls were grown up. That's fate I suppose. But the girls have done very well for themselves, and I thought it was the father's loss, if anything. Anyway, the father is going to be the "wali", and when I met the family recently I repeatedly reminded them to make sure he turns up on the appointed date and time.

Hopefully the new son-in-law would fill the void of having no man in the house, for Dek Mah & daughters.

.......................................................................................................

Lobai.

27.1.2014.

I heard recently he wasn't well - a minor stroke or something like that. So when he turned up at Nosa's wedding reception Saturday, I walked up to him and welcomed him with a fond embrace, and let me tell you, that's not something I do easily. But "fond" is not feigned here. We go back 63 years, Lobai and I.

When dad moved to Tg. Malim to take up that teaching job at S.I.T.C. (those days the English acronyms were preferred, thus "UMNO" was born)  Lobai came along with us. That was 1951. We all took the train from Seremban, my first "sooty" ride. KTM had coal-burning locomotive engines then, and because of the open windows (where got air-con, ma !) it was sooty, and the good rule was don't wear white shirts. 

As soon as we moved into the assigned single-storey brick bungalow (wow, "bungalow"!), dad sent Lobai to buy a kettle to make some tea. I remember he cycled to the shop, but can't remember where he got the bicycle from. It must have been from Hj. Hassan, the new neighbour in front of the "Rumah Empat". Because there were 4 similiar bungalows ( wow, "bungalows"!) clustered together, it was rumah empat, like "Rumah Enam" the other end of the S.I.T.C. campus with 6 houses. There's another story about this Rumah Enam, but that can wait.

Lobai didn't stay with us long. But he stayed long enough to help dad set up their first make-shift developing room for the photography that dad took up. That brought in some money, with the college students eager to send home pictures of their stay. Dad later produced home-made Raya greetings with the messages drawn on white manila cards and the photo of the sender set around the handdrawn letterings, all done by dad quite nicely. It was all black-and-white,still.

Lobai was dad's student at Sekolah Melayu Kuala Pilah, right up to Std. 6. That was it, then. If you didn't go further up the studentship, you end up in the uniformed services, or became a clerk or a "normal-trained" Malay school teacher somewhere in Johol or Kuala Klawang. So he came to Tg. Malim. He  was the first. Later there was Pak Cik Haris and Pak Cik Chup. That I'll relate later.

I don't know when exactly he left us. I never saw him again until he retired from the army, which was where he went. He got married and all that but I don't know if dad went or was invited. But he looked the way I remember him in Tg. Malim. He looked remarkably the same at Nosa's function, and said "I'm 80" when I asked. Only he had not been well recently. But 80 is still remarkable.

When dad died, Lobai was with me  in the grave where he held one side of dad's shroud, me the the foot-side. When I almost lost my grip as we lowered the shroud, Lobai chided me. Lowering apak into the "liang lahad" was Lobai's last service to dad, his old teacher and mentor.

It was a fond embrace indeed, Saturday at Nosa's reception.

...........................................................................................................

Melang Inn Hotel

25.1.2014.

Melang Inn Hotel appears a redundancy since an inn is a hotel, but then you also have Holiday Inn Hotels. Anyway M.I.H. offers a surprisingly pleasant venue for Nosa's return reception for her son's wedding last month in Kulim.

I had to make a choice, because Onny and my younger brother Yusof also sent invitations for the exact same date and time, but both in KL. Because of my advanced involvement here, I decided for  the M.I.H.

I wanted to come back earlier to watch the Ladies Tennis Australian Final at 4, and I did. And as expected Li Na won her second Grand Slam 7/6-6/0 ! At 31!. The first Chinese, male or female.

Nosa had an excellent turnup, and the caterers had to top up the food several times, and the bubur pulut hitam and cendol and cakes were finished by 2 although the whole thing was supposed to last till 4. Ismail Lassim came but when I quietly left at 3 there was no Hasan Malek or Adnan. These were the Wakil Rakyats. They're not supposed to not come.

Capt. Hadi came with his Chinese wife (he has another one, a Malay) and I teased him " a different one ?" and his wife made a face. I sat with them until they left. Azrul from the Kulim group I also pulled up and he sat for a while before excusing himself. I'd been trying to match him up to Nosa's  nurse daughter, but she was too shy to come when I called her out.

Fauziah came earlier and taunted me " hey ex YB !" and I returned the compliments "I thought you're no more". "Ada, ada" she said. When she was talking to Neng I said to Neng "you can listen to her but don't follow whatever she says".  Fauziah made a fist at me.

As I said, M.I.H. is not bad. Sitting down the hall can take 400, and the air-conditioning is very good. Beats the sweltering tents, and at RM 500 each, the tents are  not cheaper.

It was good. Only Mawi didn't make his appearance as Gafal had intimated. Both are from Felda Johor schemes. Maybe he came with the Astro people after I left.

......................................................................................................

Malek Osman

10.1.2014.

Calit and I just made it to the surau at Lavender Heights for the final rites (sembahyang jenazah), Mat Cit coming late held up the prayers for about five minutes. 

When I went to pass the invitation cards for Dekna's wedding last August for Zul, Wok and Gayah, Zul said Malek had just moved to Lavender Heights, so I gave him a card to personally pass to him. I said I remember him a long time ago when Mak Long Limah and family used to stop over, sometimes sleep over, at our house in Tanjong Malim, on their way to or from Cameron Highlands where Pak Long Osman was working. Malek passed away Thursday.

We spoke a bit, Zul and I, him regretting not informing me personally. Ajit was the one who called me at 12 noon. These sort of things somehow get communicated and we don't usually try to reconfirm the sad news. We just go.

Mak Long Limah and Pak Long Osman have gone long now, as has son Bang Lang Hamid. When I was at varsity I remember coming home for a  weekend and knowing Bang Lang Hamid was at that time in Tampin and we didn't have a tv set then, I rode on my BN 3950 Honda 90 cc all the way to Tampin from Kuala Pilah because I wanted to watch a popular programme, I can't remember exactly, it was "High Chapparal" or something. I'd been following it at the First College and was more or less hooked. Bang Lang was laid to rest in Seremban.  His widow, from Pahang, died some years later.

Malek was a vet. He did come to Dekna's wedding. Zul must have delivered the invitation card. I'm happy that I took the time to speak to him that evening. In fact they were all standing together,  the siblings, Malek, Wok,Gayah and Zul. 

Malek is also now laid to rest here in Seremban.

............................................................................................................