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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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