Ungku Aziz.

 Tues Dec 15, 2020.

I saw the sad news of Ungku Aziz's passing on my whatsapp just now. Several of them were from the "FMC form 5 1962" group. Padir also sent one. Ungku Aziz was 98.  Older than Mahathir.

In 1965 when I enrolled into UM, I attended one economics class when he spoke to us freshies. He said "many of you would not do well in the university, because you don't work hard enough, or you are not good enough !".I'd heard him on the radio many times before that. It was the same style. Simple, straight forward. He looked "English", but sounded very Malay.

I saw several photographs in the papers, of him and the other personalities  involved in the Dewan Bahasa & Pustaka nascent activities back in the 60's. I think they predated Syed Nasir's helm.

Other than his Vice Chancellor duties, you remember also those cooperatives days and "Angkasa" and all the politicking that embroiled him but not of his design. Surely they owe the man something for the general development of the national  cooperatives  movement.

Economics was one of the 3 papers I did in my first year. The other 2 were history and geography. Many undergraduates I spoke with then said I was foolish to take together these 3 "tough" subjects in my first year. Many would take one of these 3, and then 2 "lighter" ones like Malay studies, or Islamic studies. But one time I hitched a ride in a senior's car and they asked me about my subjects. When I mentioned them, one female senior in the car said "good for you".

Ungku Aziz used to jog around the large campus grounds, when jogging wasn't fashionable yet. Even very late in life he continued with this exercise. I'd never heard of a sick Ungku Aziz.

I remember that thin economics book he wrote on rural economy. I remember the radio interview when he mentioned his stay in a fishing village in Terengganu when writing that book. A fisherman's wife asked him how many children he had. When he said just one daughter (Zeti), the woman said rich people are never fertile, or something like that.

Zeti joined UM the same year I did. She must be my age. But I retired  20 years ago, while ex-Bank Negara Zeti is now heading  PNB. I remember we couldn't tackle her at university. She already had a Chinese boy friend. He became her husband.  I remember I thought she stooped a bit, always in a dress.  I don't see that later when she appeared often in the news, always in a baju kurung Johor, like her late mother.

Ungku Aziz also wrote a lot on the common practice among the Malays of making savings from hard-earned income for the purpose of doing the haj. Eventually, his recommendation to the government brought about the creation of the Tabung Haji. Every haji since the start of TH enjoyed the comfort of their holy journey because of TH, created by Ungku Aziz.  Surely the blessings pile on his soul now.

One practice I did when working, and my brother also did this, was to emulate Ungku Aziz, and put a large clock on my table in the office, facing the guest. As Ungku Aziz said, this was a psychological trick of reminding the visitor that time is precious, and everyone is looking at time, and hopefully the visitor does not stay any longer than necessary. It worked in my case.

I don't know of the Federal or state honours bestowed upon Ungku Aziz. None is too great to be given to this man. In his life time he said not to ask him about his religious practice. In his death we shouldn't restrain our prayers for his soul. Amin.

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Perak: tarnished silver.

 Wed Dec 9, 2020.

Like the Federal government, the state legislature of Perak has no dominant party holding the sway of power. The difference is that in Perak they have balls. They called for the vote of confidence and the MB got 10, to the no-confidence group with 49 in the 59-seat house. So he had to go. Muhyiddin has consistently got 108 in the 222-seat Parliament. The old Speaker was removed. But there has not been a no-confidence vote  yet.

UMNO talks big now. But they are not that big in the Dewan. They have 25 seats, DAP 16, Amanah and Bersatu 5 each, PKR and PAS 3 each, Gerakan and Independent 1 each. DAP, PKR and Amanah, the remenants of the old PH,  have 24 seats. So, both UMNO and the remenants of the old PH need the remaining 5 seats held by PAS, Gerakan and the Independent.

That's a stalemate to me.

But greed and short-term gains could move PAS and the Independent chap to throw in with the better offer that most likely will come from UMNO. They are used to doing it.

PAS is Islamic in name only. Many dastardly acts have been committed by PAS leaders that cannot be further from Islamic. But 28 seats are insufficient. A minimum 30 are required for a simple majority. The picture is still murky. That's why the Sultan wanted to see the numbers personally.

The biggest loser is Muhyiddin. The MB is a Deputy President of Bersatu. UMNO as the instigator in Perak showed no qualms in kicking the ass of the Bersatu "strong man", even though they owe their illegitimate position in the Federal Government to Muhyiddin. They are spitting in his face. And so far Muhyiddin has said nothing. But then, Muhyiddin has nothing to say since becoming the backdoor PM except "kesini, kesana, kesini, kesana" when talking about the Covid 19 s.o.p. All too soon, Muhyiddin might become neither "sini" nor "sana".

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Harun Awal 1945-2020.

 Mon 7 Dec 2020.

Harun passed away at the HTJ Seremban Saturday night. He had a stroke about a week ago. Khamis sms'd his ward number (5A) but regretfully Hank advised we should obey the s.o.p. with the continuing Covid 19 cases especially here in Seremban, and hold our visit for the time being. Khamis had also mentioned that his elder brother had regained consciousness, though still in intensive care, which was one more reason to not disturb Harun yet. Alas, we misssed the visit.

Harun was one year my junior in age and in Royal Military College. I remember him as the cross-country champion at College. So when we met again in Seremban many, many years later, I was surprised to see a rather portly Harun who didn't look at all like a cross-country champion. But meeting Khamis later, I saw the gene's similiarity.

Like Khamis, Harun was also an avid golfer. Having played with both  brothers over the years, Khamis is probably a slightly better player. But Harun was no mean player himself. He had a power-fade drive which he used deliberately. The late Dr. Yokan was a famous victim in SIGC. When SIGC was closed for several months because of the tussle between the State government and the club, Harun and Dr. Yokan played all their golf at Staffield or Nilai ( can't remember which one, maybe both) and according to Harun he cleaned the doctor up. I believed him.

The last time we met was maybe one year  ago, when Khamis visited his brother, and called me to join them for tea at a Paroi Jaya restaurant. Harun looked ok then. He was always in well-pressed clothes everytime we met, if he wasn't in his golf garb. Even when playing golf, he always dressed well, and even had his money (for betting) neatly folded in his wallet. I knew because he showed me. "Yokan's money" he grinned.

I'd met Harun at the club some time before that and asked when he was coming back to play. At that time we all knew he had not come to the club for a long time. "I'll come back soon" he said. He never did.

Harun was with the government before he resigned and joined  the private sector. I don't think it all ended well for him, but let's not cast any negativity here. Let's give due respect to the memory of an old friend.

Khamis is a lot like Harun. Seeing Khamis will remind me of Harun. My prayers for Harun Awal. Amin.

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What's the democratic way ?

 Sunday November 22, 2020.

Watching the US 46th. Presidential election fills me with with a multitude of feelings. Living the illegal rule of the 8th. PM in this country also fills me with a multitude of feelings. Dismay, perplexity, anger and despair are felt, and not in any order of preference. Funny is definitely not one of these feelings.

Of the US scene, anger comes to mind after the initial shock. Anger because lives and countries have been lost and dismembered,  and continue to be lost and dismembered, because of the Americans' demand that everyone follow "their democracy". That ALL these countries have existed LONG before the Europeans stole America from the natives 300 years ago does not matter. That there are other systems of government that have endured THOUSANDS of years before the founding of USA do not matter. And now right before the eyes of the world they are chucking the very system they try to impose all over the world,  causing  undescrible misery and sufferring. 

Always quick on denigrating others, imposing their "superior" method of rule upon even peaceful "foreign" governments, anger and hate come to mind, watching Trump & co. sabotaging an apparently clean election, and getting almost an equal number of support  as  other guy. 

Dismay, because many of the centres of learning in America are old and renowned, producing international graduates who have gone on to spread the knowledge  all over the world for the good of the world, and yet their voices and those who should know better are inaudible. Even if 40% of the whites are indeed not university graduates, one shrill voice of reason could surely be heard.

Perplexed, because clever people are not acting clever when confronted by Trump, whom I have described elsewhere as the embodiment of evil. Perplexed, because 300 years and 300 million people are going down the Trump-way, when everyone with some cow-sense should know better and act braver.

Smaller in magnitude, but no less destructive, is the political melodrama being staged in our poor country. Lacking in legitimacy and integrity, the government is clever enough, though, to make use of the law when pushing through their way  to rule for one more day after one more day.   The ostensible acts of governing are carried out as if everyone else is too stupid to notice. The budget is flush with goodies without showing where they are coming from. (Maybe they'll print money, after all).A convicted criminal not yet imprisoned   lectures Parliament. He's not in the slightest  "malu", by it. After all his battle cry now is "apa malu bossku".   But unlike Trump, Muhyiddin has until 2023 before facing the voters again, if he survives until then.

Trump has no such luxury. His days are truly numbered - January 21 next year. But you know what they say about a cornered mouse. The writing is on the wall, but obviously Trump cannot read. Let's just sit back and watch "the drama of the white house". Trump will leave. That's for sure. How will Trump leave ?  That's for show.

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The Mokhtar Hashim I briefly knew.

Thurs 19 Nov 2020.

" Brief" here refers to the depth of the acquintance, not the length. We knew each other on sight. We met many times, at different occassions, at different places as far apart geographically within the country as you could imagine. We have spoken to each other many times. But sadly, now that he's gone, it was never more than all that.

I saw Yazid Baba's sms to the Mubarak NS group yesterday morning, the morning that Mokhtar passed away. But Yazid simply said "Dato' Mokhtar" and it didn't connect to anyone in my mind at that time. It was a shock when I came home at noon and switched on my pc and saw it on the news.

My first introduction to Mokhtar was in 1965, about 55 years ago. (That's more than half-century). I had just registered myself as a "freshie" undergraduate at the University of Malaya, our first and only university then. We all gathered at the Arts Concourse, the largest covered space at the university, for a welcome by the faculty. (The Dewan Chanselor was still on the drawing board at that time). The University of Malaya Students' Union was represented by it's elected President, a third-year Science Faculty undergraduate who was a product of  the Malay College Kuala Kangsar - Mokhtar Hashim.

The last time I spoke to Mokhtar was at a Mubarak Malaysia AGM in Terengganu.  I sat next to him, in fact. He was already long pardonned of his tragic conviction at that time. He had a small hand bag with him, which he put on the table. I joked "apa dalam ? pistol ke ?" He good-humouredly laughed.

When I was the Felda Regional Controller in NS around 1976-77, I attended a function at Felda Bukit Rokan, and as the MP for the area Mokhtar was invited to attend as guest-of-honour, and he came.

When the NS delegation went to Tenom, Sabah for a political mission, around '97-'98 (I forget now) I went, and so did Mokhtar, who came as the State Treasurer. We stayed in the same hotel for the duration of the stay, but we all had our own different assignments, and I only met him when he was passing out the money for expenses etc.

Then very early in his political career, there was the funny incident at Mantin. As a Federal Minister, Mokhtar of course had his official car and driver. Late one night he was going home to KL from a visit to his constituancy. He chose to drive himself, going on the old Seremban-KL road. Somewhere near Mantin he had to stop for a pee. He asked his driver to take over, saying that he wanted to take a nap at the back as he exited the driver's seat. He forgot to say he wanted to do his business first. He went to the side of  the road. His driver went behind the wheel.  Mokhtar peed.  The  driver drove off.  Mokhtar must have been pissed !  Somehow he managed to contact the Police Station ahead (these were pre-mobile  phone days) and they stopped the car. When asked   "mana Dato'?" the driver said "tidor belakang".

So there you have it: the university in 1965; Bukit Rokan, in Gemencheh;  the Terengganu Hotel; Tenom, Sabah. Long and wide, but not close. The regret is mine.

I had spoken about his tragic court case to many friends, some of whom knew him very well. One of the key witnesses in the case was in fact a relative of mine, Nordin Johan, who was married to my second-cousin.  He has since passed away. Dato' Ismail Yassin, himself a lawyer, attended the case. He said the crucial and ultimately most damaging statement that Mokhtar made was agreeing to the prosecution's suggestion that his pistol was always in his care. Having had a pistol myself before, and once witnessing Dato Azhar's pistol falling out of his golf bag just as he was complaining to us that he had misplaced his pistol and would have to report it as soon as possible, I'm certain that Mokhtar could not have been in the control of his pistol 100% of the time. My question is, what legal advice did Mokhtar get?   Mokhtar himself told his father that he did not commit the crime. I believe him. He had no reason to get rid of Dato' Taha. Mokhtar was already a Federal Minister, and already the Divisional Head of UMNO where Dato' Taha, the State Assemblyman, was the Deputy. If it was the other way round, maybe there was motive.

Mokhtar used to have a house in Section 16, when I had a house in nearby Damansara Utama. He also used to have a house near the Felda HQ, where I worked. When I visited Annuar Hamdan in Ulu Ampang, around the Ampang Jaya area, there Annuar pointed out Mokhtar's house close by.

I don't wish to sound trifle, nor to debase the memory of an acquintence, and if a family member happens to read my notes, I submit my sincere apologies for any negative inference, for that is the opposite of the intent of these notes. I remember Mokhtar, and I pray to Allah that He Forgives him for his failings.  Amin.

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Politics and science.

Tuesday Nov 10, 2020.

In about 8 weeks 2020 would become 2021.

In about 4 weeks my 75 would cross to 76.

In the last 44 weeks, the whole world has been turned virtually upside down, politically and scientifically.

Here in Malaysia, the pandemic Covid 19 has pushed asunder life as we know it, just as the virus has done to the rest of the world. The disease is relentless. And different countries have continued to be confused and confounded.

Politics seem to have overcome science;  reason overcome by rationalisation. When health should matter, politics get priority. When masks help minimise contagion, "freedom of choice" is the battle cry.

In USA, religion has added company: the unbending belief in the Message of the Democrat for one group, and a similiar one  of the Republican for another. Common sense gives way to this political divide.  On November 4th. US showed the world that the Democrats gave 76 million votes to Biden to oust an unhinged Trump, and the Republicans gave 71 million to Trump, in spite of all of Trump's behaviours as a cruel, selfish, self-centred, uncouth, indecent, uncivilised, racist, misogynistic, lying and simply insane human being.  In 2016, instead of  growing into what is supposed to be the biggest job in the world, he has plainly, simply demeaned it. But it seemed to matter not to the Republicans. Opposing the Democrats take precedence. The rest of the world should take note of this when it deals with these Americans in future. The filth and  lies that have spewed from his mouth have not offended about half of the voters of the so-called great country. They still want him as their chosen leader for 4 more  years. Even as the Democrats  claimed victory,   Trump is digging in and fighting tooth and nail to nullify the election. And guess what, the Republican leaders are backing him and justify their stand as "their constitutional right", never mind the outcome of the democratic process that has been practiced for the last few hundred years. And this is the same democratic process they have been shoving down the throats of the rest of the world, and for which millions have been killed, displaced and discarded.

Back in KL, the pandemic has not stopped the politicking, either. The unnecessary  Sabah state election is still producing new clusters of the virus. A new movement control order had been imposed on 9/11 ( like that infamous date  in USA). The whole country is bracing for a second wave of the virus feared to be more deadly than the first, from which full recovery has not been achieved. All kinds of political talk and all sorts of political manoeuvres are still going on. The illegal Parliament is debating the multi-trillion-ringgit budget promising sweets to the despairing rakyat without indicating where the money is coming from. They are as crazy as Trump.

Deepavali is 3 days away. The Indians would have to celebrate it indoors with family members this year. I don't know what we all can celebrate, come 2021.

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Just taking stock.

 Sun Oct 4, 2020.

Just thought I'd take stock of things on this humble post.

Like Hank, I started this blog 12 years ago. Blogging had been around like, forever. Aspan tried to set up the first blog for me. But I came across this little book on blogging. Coming home, I thought I might as well try it. 

I had written to "Readers write" or something on New Straits Times many times before that. I was pleasantly surprised that every time I sent my notes, they printed them, though they edited them here and there. I just wanted to polish my English. But I wrote on things I know, right from mind to paper, the way I know.  I suppose they sounded genuine and worthy of space on their papers. Once I caught the blog-bug, I left "Readers write". (A few friends followed them, by the way).  Naturally my most productive year was that first one. Up to now I count 512 postings. At about 600 words each, I should have more than 300,000 words altogether. As I'd said to Hank, maybe I should put them in a book.

I'd always wanted to pen my memories so my children and their children could share my life experiences. I'm leaving them no money. I might as well share my memories. I sure would like to record all that I can recall in seven decades of living thus far.

Somewhere in this blog in the last 12 years I'd already mentioned flashes of some of these life experiences. I may have even mentioned some  more than once. I don't keep proper track. They haven't been done in any particular order. I sat down and wrote what inspired me  each time.   Places I visited, schools I went to, work that I'd done, past times that are still fun, relatives old, new and sadly departed, and friends old, new and also sadly departed. I feel I should dock them all somewhere just for memory's sake.

I have a world map on the wall in my  room.  I put red dots on all the countries I'd visited. Not too bad. All continents except the Arctic and Antartic seem covered. The next plan was to make annual forays into neighbouring countries for 1-week hops these last few years, which I did. But the pandemic has put that on hold. Bandung, Bangkok, Saigon and Bukit Tinggi are all within 2 hours of KLIA, and even repeat visits have  been enjoyable and cheap.

All immediate uncles and aunts are gone, from both my father's and mother's side. I attended all their last rites, but have not been able to make visits to their last resting places, and I feel guilty about it. Many I have fond memories of, because my parents took the trouble to make visits, even when they were far, say, in Gua Musang and Butterworth. These were not within easy reach, because until my father was about to retire, he didn't have a car.

Several first cousins have also left us. One in Jengka 23 I had wanted to be with when he died, but couldn't. I'm still marking it in my "to do" list to visit his grave. I met his widow at a relative's wedding and told her so, but she jokingly ( I hope ) brushed it off.

Even here where I am now, many old neighbours have gone: Ahmad Abbas, Yusof, Hj. Ishak, Pak Din, Shahruddin, Aziz Tadin, Md. Nor Tadin, Col. Arham, Cikgu Dollah, Hj. Amir,  Hj. Yusof Ahmad, Ustaz Ayob and Ustaz Hassan. These were just those on the same road or adjacent ones.

Where I reside now looks like my last stop. This is my second time at this housing estate. The first time was on my second posting to Seremban before being moved back to head office. I'd always planned to retire in this town because it is the capital of NS, can you believe that ? I was thinking, I couldn't retire in KP where I was born and bred. Seremban seemed free of the KL traffic. I'd purchase a 6,000 ft house lot in Kg. Jiboi. But Seremban didn't remain traffic-free, and the move to Seremban was hastened by events. So here I am, and the Jiboi lot was sold. 

I've been here for 25 years now. Seriously, I was imagining that my children would lay me to rest at the Maqam Tuan Haji Said, the large and more famous of the Seremban Muslim cemetries. Alas, just this year, MAINS issued a circular saying it is now full and must be closed. New tenants are directed to the Senawang-Econsave plot, not far from where I am now. I'll just leave it to my surviving children.

I have to write about all my uncles and aunties. Amok in Kuala Jempol could be my first subject. Then the others in Kg. Ibol, Ulu Bendol, Kubang Rusa, Batu 46, Datuk Keramat, and Butterworth.  

I have to write about Tg. Malim, KP Residential Area, Tebat Kering, Port Dickson, Sg. Besi, Alor Gajah, Ampang Jaya, Damansara Utama and Port Kelang. These were places where I stayed, studied or worked.

I have also to write about where the kids went to school. That would cover a slightly bigger area; Petaling Jaya, Cheras, Seremban, Melaka, Perlis, Shah Alam, Sydney and  Hawaii. 

This time I'll have to gather material before I write. I might lose the memories of those long years, long gone but not completely forgotten. Yet. Hopefully.

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Politics and the pandemic.

 Sat Oct 3, 2020.

The almost year-old pandemic has managed to stop almost everything except politics.

Everywhere in the world, the earlier signs of the recession of the virus have been thwarted by signs of resurgence. There are fears that the reemergence could be more  rabid, while no vaccines are in clear sight yet.

Somehow, the political turmoil has not only not abated, but in fact has been intensified in many spots  of the world map. Europe, the Middle East, USA. That includes Malaysia, of course.

The daylight robbery of the legitimate PH Government didn't stop Sabah from attempting to do the same thing. To hell with the respect for "the voice of the people" of 9.5.2018. The voice of greed was more audible.  First, it was the chance for an aging and ailing ursuper to steal power, playing the numbers game. "I have the number !" Then it was a frustrated CM who took the bull by its horns, but lost the scrimmage because of criss-crossing loyalties in a crowded field.

The Sabah battle is not over. Warisan added their numbers, though by itself insufficient. UMNO threw everything into battle, but lost seats and performed poorly in comparison. But at least they recognized their predicament, and when upstart BERSATU grabbed 11 of the 13 new seats and put up their man as CM, UMNO could only look on, licking their wounds in spite of all the brave talk. Many are unhappy, and many are calling for the abondonment of the hasty coalition put up for the Sabah fight.

Fortunately for Malaysia, the political mess has not yet interfered with the scientific approach to meeting the pandemic. The averaged figures by WHO standards for Malaysia are acceptible. For now.

Not so in the so-called richest and most powerful country in the world, the USA.

At a time when it could, and should, provide leadership in tackling the world pandemic, USA failed miserably simply because the President failed miserably. Backed by the money and science available to him, the  insane man in the White House chooses to put his personal agenda above that of his country and the world. We remember that it took Pearl Harbour before USA entered WWII. But selfish as it was, it went on to play the important role of providing the leadership, logistics and committment that eventually defeated a Germany that 6 years earlier chose someone just like Trump now.  Hitler. 

I watch, facinated but in dismay, the antics of Trump throughout the pandemic in USA. He dismisses his professional advisors. He dismisses all world authorities.  He dismisses  the medical advice of his own government. He ignores wearing masks and  social distancing. He makes accusations of lying and misleading  facts and figures  by qualified authorities, when in truth it is he who lies and misleads.

And now, after all the negatives that he had sowed, Trump has done something, finally, positive. He's been found positive for Covid 19, or the "China flu" as he calls it.

Now I'm watching to see if he follows science in the remedy he's seeking for himself.  Now might be the time to ask him to take his own advice, and drink some chlorox. That might at least get rid of one problem.

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Sabah State election 26 Sept 2020

Mon 28 Sept 2020.

Last Saturday Sabah held its State elections, the second one in 2 years, 4 months and 17 days. They are supposed to occur once in 5 years. These things don't come cheap. This country doesn't have money to burn. But nowadays Malaysian politics have become cheap.

The former UMNO CM who lost in 2018 had gathered around him some Government supporters in the Assembly who turned coats, and threatened to upturn the 2-year-old Warisan-led government.  Shafie appeared to have pulled the rug from under their feet by dissolving the Assembly and forcing fresh elections. It appears now that Shafie would have closed the deal if not for the formation of new alliances - PN and GPS. As it is, Shafie only managed to get 32 out of the enlarged Assembly of 73 (previously 60), when the simple majority is 37. Out of the 13 additional seats, Warisan got only 2 more to add to its 2018 seats of 21. The balance of 11 went to BERSATU which had none before.  PBS added 1 more seat to its previous 6, while STAR did better by adding 4 to its previous 2. Unchanged were DAP with 6, and PKR 2 seats.  The losers were UPKO, with 1 now from 5, PBRS 0 from 1, and loudmouth UMNO, 14 from 17. MCA contested 4 seats, and SAPP 2, and have nothing to show for it. Warisan is the single largest party in the Assembly now, but the PN-BN coalition (UMNO, BERSATU, PBS, STAR) means it has 38, which is just a majority of 1 above the required 37. But it's 6 more than "Warisan Plus". The remaining 3 seats are held by Independents. Even if these 3 go to Warisan Plus, the 35 would be 3 less than PN-BN. Unless another jumping show happens. And it very well could. Again. 

The slim margin of victor over vanquished does not guarantee stability over the rule of "the land below the wind".  UMNO does not accept subservient treatment, or any suggestion of it being so treated. An UMNO man, controversial from the beginning, has hogged the centrepage of dealings, and obviously aims for CMship. Muhyiddin seems to have  different ideas.

Which brings us back to the Government's actual strength in Parliament. The PM can use all the tricks of the trade, but a resolution is inevitable. He had hoped for a resounding victory in Sabah. No expenses were spared, it being Sabah. The 11 BERSATU seats must have been pleasing. But the slim majority, and that via a coalition, too, means the vote of confidence resolution in Parliament is no nearer to being held. 

The fact that the proposed CM comes from BERSATU is obviously not welcome by UMNO. They had made that clear immediately after the election. The fact that the PM got his wishes here means UMNO is not strong enough by itself to do as it pleases.

The weak PM and his jumpy supporters must now make sure GE 15 happens no sooner than 2023 so they can enjoy the maximum possible 36 months of rule.

 For the next Sabah state elections, it's 2025. There's more breathing space.

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Mazni in Kg. Pilin.

Sun Sept 26, 2020.

Yesterday Hank and I attended Mazni's son's wedding in Kg. Pilin, Rembau. Mazni is an OP who was with MARA. Hank extended the invitation to me. It was on-and-off for a while, because Hank was fearful of the new Covid cases in Kedah, only about 400 km away !  A few days ago he changed his mind again.  In the end, when we went yesterday.  And he forgot his face mask. As usual I came to the rescue.

General Tan Sri Borhan, ex Armed Forces Chief,  also came, complete with his cane and mask. We all arrived at the same time. We all also left at the same time. 

I've heard of Kg. Pilin before, just as I've heard of Bongek. But Bongek I first heard in 1962.  The late Bakar "Chimp" said he was from there. I thought it was a joke, then. 

Until yesterday I'd not visited either one. Bongek, I see the sign board every time I take the Seremban-Rembau-Tampin old road. But no Kg. Pilin sign board.  But I've made it to Kg. Pilin now. But no Bongek yet.

Mazni was our senior at college, and yet here we were, attending to his son's wedding, when in my case my youngest child got married 7 years ago. Hank explained that Mazni had two wives. This must be from the younger wife. His first wife had died. He's now on crutches because of some age-related ailments, although in appearance he looked all right to me.

We didn't wait for the new couple to arrive because we needed to follow the s.o.p. and vacate the limited seating for other guests. Mazni said some police officers came earlier to check on the festivities. All the sop gadgets were there - the book, temperature scan, and the digital scan. The limited seating was adhered to. But unlike other  receptions I'd attended, food was still served buffet.

Mazni sent the video of the wedding party, which showed the couple on a superbike, with other superbikers in tow. So they're superbikers. Without knowing this, which was sent later, I was talking  to Hank about my Honda CBR 600 and Kawasaki Vulcan 750. I had them for about 6 years, but sold them off when I moved to Seremban in 1995. The topic cropped up when a group of superbikers overtook us before reaching Seremban. "What cc are they ?" Hank inquired. "Must be around 900" I said. Hank and I both had our "kapcais" at varsity. I still have one now that I use for trips to town. It beats the traffic and parking woes. 

At Mazni's, they gave us each a ticket with numbers. "Lucky draw, ah ?" I'd joked. They were part of the sop. Before leaving we returned them, and got a door gift each. When I reached home, the wife asked "mana bunga telor" and gave the two kueh bahulu in the gift to her. They came in a nice little basket. 

My trip meter said 41 km from Tesco S 2 to Mazni's place. When I reached back home, it said 120, not 82. That's because we took a different route back, one Hank said he'd not taken before.

We took the Lubuk China road that went past Linggi and Pengkalan Kempas, through Pasir Panjang to the Tg. Tuan road, to Telok Kemang and PD town, or as one sign said, "Port Dickson, Bandar Angkatan Tentera". I pointed out the Palm Spring Golf Club near Pasir Panjang to Hank, and then actually stopped at the Port Dickson Golf Club, or the Garrison Golf Club, a name  used by local golfers to differentiate it from  Palm Spring. I had wanted to stop for refreshments, but we ran smack into a competition and the restaurant was packed. We took a leak and went for rojak & cendul in PD town instead. I'd warned Hank about the traffic jam because of the weekend crowd. We crawled to town and were relieved that the stalls' parking area was almost empty. They're all at beach, I thought. We went to Lukut ( "Oh, this is Lukut" said Hank) and then back onto the PD-Seremban highway, and at the Rasah junction, what else, ran smack into the Saturday traffic again. Hank was not fully awake all the time, so when we finally arrived back at Tesco, as I turned into the parking lot, he came to and said "where are we, where are we ?"

There was banter at Mazni's, and in the car going and coming back. A lot of ground was covered. A lot of time was covered. Children, wives (of course), careers, and of course politics. To me this was the enjoyable part of the day's trip. I don't know about Hank, but Mazni sms'd saying he enjoyed our visit, too.  Hank said he's looking forward to the next date.

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Nyaleh II

 Thurs 24 Sept 2020.

41 days after "Nyaleh" in this blog, Halim (with son), Hank & I made the second trip to visit Burkhan in his Nyaleh homestead, on Wednesday 23 of September.  This time Halim also brought along his wife.

We left S2 at about 10, but only made it to Nyaleh at about 12.15. Somewhere before the Simpang Ampat exit, a large lorry had somewhow skidded and ended up straddled across the highway, blocking traffic, spewing its load onto the road, and causing a 40-minute delay for everyone. Halim said they were stuck for about 30 minutes. I think because they were earlier, the traffic probably was not as bad. By the time we arrived, Halim & co. had already tucked into the brunch prepared. "Wah ! you started without us, ah ?" I said. Halim didn't reply.

Halim introduced his wife. I said I know she is the sister of Lil's wife, Lil being Fauziah's younger brother. Fauziah is my brother's ex wife. "They seem to remain close" I said to Halim's wife, referring to  Padir, my brother, and Fauziah.

Halim and Hank had arranged for this visit, mainly to collect their fresh orders of VCO. I didn't specifically order for it, but managed to get 2 bottles, anyway. Just as well, because on Tuesday I played with Jamaluddin, and he wanted one bottle when I told him about the VCO I was going to get on Wednesday. I gave it to him this morning when again we played together, and collected the 40 bucks. Hank had also bought one each for Mahbob and Azhar, but in the car returning home had wondered if he should collect the 40 bucks each. "Collect !" I said.

Burkhan told us that he's keeping stock with his son in Putrajaya, and we could collect from him there in future, but there would be a 5-dollar charge.

My first bottle from the first visit lasted exactly one month, I said to Burkhan. This was  1 tablespoon morning and night. This new bottle should last me until October 24. Both Hank and Halim should last theirs until next year, if they don't share it with anyone else.

This time there was no field trip. After the brunch and our midday prayers, we all made our separate ways. And Burkhan gave us some  pisang for making goring pisang.

I took Hank on a different route home this time. We went to Alor Gajah, and stopped for "cucur udang Alor Gajah" at the stalls opposite the District Office. I told Hank, pointing to the new office complex, this was my first place of work after university. But I was ADO for only 5 months in 1968. To his question of why I left, I told him the story of the wedding I attended back in KP around December. My father introduced me to Raja Alias (now Tan Sri) at the kenduri, because it was one of his relatives, and the house is close to ours. Raja Alias invited me to join F.L.D.A. as it was known then. It's Felda today. At that time he was the Deputy Chairman (Development) to Taib Andak, the Chairman. Taib Andak was Tun Razak's close friend, and was credited for the tie-up to Toh Puan Rahah because they were Johoreans. A Mr. Clifford was the Deputy Chairman (Finance). I accepted the invitation and went through the formal interviews.   The interview board was made up of Raja Alias, Mr. Clifford and Ishak Tadin, the Chief Secretary of the Ministry of Rural Development under which Felda was. That was a real powerful panel. Nowadays it would only involve the Personnel staff. Of course I was accepted. I started there in March 1969. My first salary was 950 plus 100 allowance, which was 100 more than the MCS pay. Halim, Akbar and Ghani Sulaiman, all the same year at varsity, were also in Felda when I joined, but all three joined the MCS after less than a year. I remember Ghani when we got our first pay in cash from the accountant, he couldn't put it all in his pocket, and stuffed some of it in his socks ! Ghani retired as the Pahang State Secretary. He was also from Pahang. I think he's now in Kg. Pandan, somewhere.

After the cucur udang, I took Hank to Gadek, on the way to Tampin. Gadek is well-known for its hot springs, like the one in Pedas. I knew of it since my school days in KP. They have made the place more presentable, adding attached pools patrons can share and loll in. There were 2 - 3 Chinese vistors in the different pools, immersed to their necks in the hot water, obviously for medicinal purposes. The girl at the entrance said they get about 100 visitors on weekends, and about half that on week days. The entrance fee is 5 ringgit. Hank entered foc because I paid for him so that he'd enter because he refused to pay to enter.

One reason I wanted to go to Tampin was because I had called an old school mate for tea several days earlier. I know he'd seen my sms. But today, after calling a few times, the ringing phone went unanswered. So we skipped Tampin and went back to the highway.

Before Tesco at S2 we stopped at a Mydin restaurant  for a late  roti canai. Hank collected his car at Tesco, and I lingered for a while there before making it home before Magrib prayers. 

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Reunion of the original 3 MHS

 Sept 12, 2020.

The MCO extension had made me wonder when can I meet with the original MHS Team again. On and off I'd met the old MHS staff at weddings and some reunions organized by the clerical group.

Yoke Ling has been a regular whatsapp correspondent for the last year or so. She hasn't aged, when last I saw her during the last meeting mentioned. So, it seemed natural that I turned to her and about two weeks ago suggested she arrange lunch or something with 5 - 6 of these people. She quickly got hold of Ramlee, Hussein and Mala, and sent word to a few others staying in the Kelang Valley, to meet for lunch at the "Pizza vs Satay" in Subang Jaya, Thursday 10.9.20. The place turned out that it's close to where she stays.

I got hold of Sam, and we rendezvoused at Subang Parade. I held on to my "waze" as he drove to "Pizza vs Satay". Four of the 5 of us who eventually made it arrived almost at the same time. Ramlee came last as we sat at one of the tables, and ignored the sop seating arrangement.

Mala couldn't come because she had to take her daughter to the dentist. Onn and Mas didn't read Yoke Ling's message in time, and could't make it. The next one we asked Husein to arrange in December.  We should try to pull a few more, but not too many. Ramlee had suggested to call some of the girls staying around Shah Alam-Kelang, and I quickly agreed.

The lunch we individually ordered was great, and disappeared fast, but we lingered for a while. Nobody wanted dessert. Everybody seemed satisfied with his/her single portion, but it was the talk that was enjoyable..

It's been 29 long years since  I was given the task of heading the management to run MHS, the land-based operation by sea-bound MISC. Hussein said he was in the MISC Planning team that drew up the paper on MHS, so he got pulled in to be the Admin Manager, one of the 3 original executives. Ramlee was also from MISC. He became the Operations Manager. I was the GM of Felda Transport and was picked by the MISC Chairman to be the GM. The MISC Chairman happened to be also the Felda Chairman. 

The four and a half years at MHS had been the most fulfilling of all my salaried appointments. This was the company that I ran from day one. Sure, a team of managers were in it, too, but I set the tone for work, putting to practice all that I had learned from my previous jobs and from my readings and studies. I had 22 years of Felda experience and had attended numerous short management courses in the country, and two lengthy top-management courses in England and the Phillipines. Hitherto, I took over my jobs from previous managers. This time I started from scratch. I could set my own style, and did.

My style was to share the workload with all my managers.  I made sure that my table was cleared of all papers before I leave for the day, so I came to office with a clean desk every morning. The files belonged to the 3 managers. They must deal with them. They welcomed the trust and the responsibilty 

This was my style in the previous job,  the GM of Felda Transport Corporation. Hussein said a relative who was one of the staff there had called him, having heard that I was coming to MHS. He was more than happy to see me go. I don't know who this chap was, and I didn't ask Hussein. To my mind, this was just his version  of my management style. He didn't see my perspective, obviously. I reponded to Hussein's story with one of my own. My No.2 Son is now with UTM, with offices in both the old campus in KL and the new larger one in Senai. When he visited the Senai campus, a female lecturer approached him and asked if he was "Zainal Mokhtar's son"? Affirmed, she said her husband had related to her that I was the best boss he ever had. The lecturer's husband, I found out later, was Fuad Hamid whom I had personally picked and put in charge of the Johore operations. I'd told him to run Johore and only come to me if he had a problem.

The fact was, the MISC Chairman had a full trust in me that I didn't betray. In turn I gave my managers the full trust that they, too, didn't betray. The late Othman Abdul came slightly later the Ramlee and Husein to become the Marketing Manager, and I gave him full reins. Yoke Ling, in his team, should testify the high spirits of the marketing people. I believe there was an atmosphere of trust and enterprise that was palpable, and it went right down to the drivers, the ones who were really responsible for our performance in the industry that we were in. As far as I was certain of, our expensive equipment were run at optimal capacity, and we threatened our 4 rivals in the haulage business at that time. Sadly, a totally new management came to MISC after I left, and they decided to off-load the land-based operations of the sea-based company.

Hussein and Ramlee mentioned about the "Kalmar story". I related about what transpired in the board room. The Chairman had chided that I wanted to buy "a Rolls Royce". Kalmar quoted a price three times that of a rival producer. We had studied the machinery, and I had even gone to Sweden to check up on it. This was a proven product. I said to the board members, an expensive machine that would perform well and last longer, and in the end becomes cheaper to maintain. They bought it. And so we bought it.

 

Then there was the purchase of the 2 pieces of land in Butterworth and Air Keroh. I had confidently presented my cases to the board each time. Air Keroh was straight-forward. The location was central to our Peninsula routes. Butterworth towards the end became a bit dicey. This was because by then Khalid Dahalan, my old nemesis from Felda, had come to MISC, thanks to the Chairman. He became the DMD, and MHS came under him. He questioned the proposed purchase of the Butterworth land, citing flood risks etc. I knew it was just to sabotage me. Fortunately, by then the preparatory studies were  well advanced, and the findings positive. This was an operational hub to the northern peninsula area, with Penang and Thailand as important links to container haulage operations that Khalid knew nothing of.  So the proposal went through. But clearly, the seeds of battle had been replanted. The revenge Khalid wanted because of my resistence to his show of power when in Felda had been halted when the Felda Chairman moved him to Boustead, because this Chairman was also the Boustead Chairman. When Felda's shares in Boustead were bought over, the Chairman left, leaving Khalid stranded. In his short stay in Boustead, Khalid, fully aware of the fact that the Chairman was behind him, had his way  and in no time irritated the long-serving Boustead MD. So when the Felda Chairman left  Boustead , the MD lost no time in making Khalid feel the heat. Khalid ran back to the Felda Chairman for help, and thus was put into MISC, because he was also MISC Chairman.  But the Butterworth purchase was appreciated by the Chairman, so much so MISC wanted to buy more there. They didn't. I had left.

Incidently, Khalid moved back again to Felda when the Chairman also left MISC because of the transfer of Felda's shares in MISC. This hiding under the skirt habit finally ended when Khalid contracted come deadly virus while camping in Terengganu. I was told that in the final months of his life, he was no longer aware of his surroundings because of the damage to his brains.

As we were walking out of the restaurant, Hussein also mentioned about the case of the supplier suing MHS for some supplies bought by marketing. After about 10 years, the courts have awarded the supplier damages of about 200,000.  This case also came about because of Khalid. He wanted to stop the purchase simply because it came from my team. Part of the purchase, I think, were golf umbrellas meant for customer relations. Khalid, an accountant (not a Chartered accountant),  had said "marketing is nothing". When I heard this at that time, I'd said to my managers "you have to market to make money, before you count the money".  If I bother to know where he's buried, I'd take one of the umbrellas and put it on his tombstone to shade it. 

After all these years, here at lunch I learned some new tit bits.  Zahrah was our first clerk when we were still in Jalan Conlay. Now I'm told she had been married at 18 and was a single mother when taken in by Hussein out of sympathy. At Port Kelang apparently she had a few affairs with the drivers. Ramlee said she stays nearby. I said call her for our next makan.

Ramlee mentioned Suraya, my secretary in Port Kelang. He also mentioned Maya, my first secretary while at Jalan Conlay. Maya was Hank's gf. Hank had called and asked if I could take her.  I found her to be qualified and took her. The short time we were in Jalan Conlay, I found her work ok. But she didn't want  to move to Port Kelang.  That was why I took Suraya. Ramlee has followed her in fb, and said she looks different now. I said it's the digital touch-up, because I've met her, though many years ago, and she looked her old self. But Maya was known for her firm breasts (I said sorry to Yoke Ling for mentioning this).  I was told she challanged those who doubted their authencity by asking the doubters to go with her to the toilet and see for themselves. But I wasn't told if the challange was accepted.

It was a nice get-together. We should do it again.

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NYALEH

 Sunday 30 August 2020.

I'm 19 days late, posting this piece. Too many things came, these 2-3 weeks. No golf today, so here I am.

When I told Tok Sleman I was going to Nyalas (which is what it says on the map, and what I've heard pronounced before) he corrected me and said "Nyaleh". He's right.

Although Nyaleh is in Melaka, it's on the NS border, just next to Air Kuning, in the Gemas sub-district. So Nyalehans speak Negri and practice Adat Perpateh.  Ulu Jasin also does this.

Burkhan is very proud of his Minangkabau roots, and he has photos of his visits, with Nyaleh family members, to Pagar Ruyong family members. There were pictures of return visits. Everybody seemed to enjoy the gatherings depicted.

Burkhan is also very proud of his current farming roots here in his birthplace, Nyaleh. And of his goats in his high pen, complete with plastic artesian drinking spouts, and oil-palm frond feeding hangers down below. A visit to the goats is always part of the tour. But this time there was no calls of "Hamdan, Hamdan !".  There was a "Hamzah!" though. I know. I called out, and one looked up from eating. I thought the hair looked similiar.

Burkhan turned his back to a very senior position in the Ministry of Trade, to find his apparently final worldly retreat here in Nyaleh. On Tuesday August 11, using "waze", driving in my old jalopy, finding Burkhan's place was easy.  Except for the final turn into the sanctury along the easily missed little side road. Halim & son were already  in Burkhan's peaceful looking bungalow.  I can get used to this hideout. That's what it is. The comfortable house in the shades of the rubber and oil palm, far from the hustle-and-bustle of town and traffic, breathing the clean air, drinking unchlorinated ground water, and being one's own boss. Burkhan seems  content. 

Burkhan is also very proud of his efforts at his "talian hayat" (his words), the tahfiz complex  on his estate, A beautifully architectured school, a hostel, kitchen and a fish pond on a hill dominate the scenery. More work is in obvious progress. Burkhan's penchant for artesian wells is displayed again here. That's how the fish pond is located on the hill, and the ablution  has powerful water taps. He said donations finance his tahfiz, and are welcome.  But I think there is more to it. That he has "wakafed" part of his 25-acre estate to the religious undertaking is an amazing fact. He has not, in my mind, turned his back to the world. He has embraced his world to life here on earth and to what he can physically do for something worthwhile in the eyes of his Islamic belief, in this case the spread of the knowledge of the holy book, the Quran.

The fantastic thing is, this current tahfiz school on the hill, is not the only one he has done. There is another large piece of land further inside the estate that Burkhan has wakafed to an organization to build a tahfiz school. Unfortunately, that walled area has to date not been developed by the trustees. Burkhan said he has done his part and doesn't want to know how it's handled further. A remarkable act of piety.

I had suggested that Burkhan contact Tan Sri Rashid Hussin of the RHB fame. He said he knows him, but wouldn't personally approach him. I wonder if anyone of the OP's can do that. Rashid Husin built the beautiful Husin mosque in Seremban 2, and also the incredible 100-million Sri Sendayan mosque. He wouldn't mind chipping in a couple of millions here in Nyaleh, I think.

Burkhan and lovely wife gave us a fantastic Minangkabau / asam pedas Melaka lunch with jeruk limau and fried brasil sprouts and local and imported fruit. I'm a sparing eater, but Hank, Halim & son had second helpings. After lunch all of us bought a few bottles of fresh VCO's.  Burkhan gave us  a discount, of course.

Recently Burkhan uploaded a picture of a truckload of freshly collected coconuts. Hank said we should go back to Nyaleh in September to replenish our stock of VCO. I agreed.

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Political uncertainties certain.

 Sun 30 August 2020.

What's certain are the political uncertainties.

The pandemic has not stopped the political epidemic.  If anything, politics have overtaken science when dealing with the deadly medical calamity, and the country continues to suffer. The movement control order is extended to the end of the year. The ruling government may not get a more generous extension.

But Malaysian politics seem to take on a life of their own when the chips are clearly down. Convicted crooks become popular, and the bearers of truth  become  disparaged.  A 60-year old rotting party is brought down by a 90-year old  octogenerian, but a sacked leader saved sacks his saviour.

After a hard-fought battle, UMNO lost hold of the government it controlled for 6 decades. Indonesia, India, Pakistan and Japan are countries Malaysians know, that practice some semblence of democracy. The political parties that ruled there didn't last 60 years. So the Malaysian experience is not a first. What may be a first is the return to power of someone like UMNO after  less than 2 years, through either the clever manipulations of erratic events, or the less-than-clever orchestration of erratic leadership.

Sufficient number of voters were swayed into believing that UMNO should be discarded because of,now proven, thievery by its top leaders. Since then, 6 bye-elections have shown that the support has been lost. Not a single UMNO thief has gone to jail yet, even as one is convicted and several others are in different stages of court prosecution. Is UMNO able to change the voters perception of right and wrong, even as the facts are laid bare?

Has the contrived coalition government the numbers in Parliament to hold on to power? If everyone's uncertain, why not simply take a count ? When the votes for the replacement of the Speaker were counted, the government got 111, exactly half of the total. That's no win.

The party holding the key to the hastily concocted coalition, BERSATU, has only 6 of its original MP's. The other 6 are with the opposition faction. That's not real power.  That's why every Tom, Dick and Harry in UMNO are talking down to the poor PM now. And he's there swallowing it, bit by painful bit. His deafening silence is not a show of quiet strength. It's simply loss for words.

So black is not black, white not white ? Nothing is certain ? 

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100 days of epidemic control, and an OP leaves Parliament.

Sun June 28, 2020

Today is actually the 103rd day of the epidemic control imposition in the country, started on March 18. 

The figure of 4 deaths per 1 million population seems a good one compared to the rest of the world. 

The similiar figures for others are: USA 387, Brazil 269, India 12, Phillipines 11, Indonesia 10, Singapore 4, China 3, Thailand 0.8 and Vietnam n.a. 

But China, India, Indonesia, the Phillipines and Vietnam look suspiscious with their big populations. Thailand's under 1 is probably cooked. We know that the Indonesian authorities have given up on their controls with their uncontrollable population. Having been to India, I can't believe the figures given. But like Brazil, and even the US and Denmark, if they choose to not have accurate indicators, the epidemic is real and relentless, and the actual final toll would expose everything eventually.

The absolute figures are devastating as they are. Globally, there have been more than 10 million cases, with more than 500,000 deaths. I wonder how they compare with all the past wars of the world. And to see USA in chaos politically and administratively in the midst of a very real  and very deadly warfare with an invisible enemy, makes me wonder if maybe the Americans don't realize the extent of their foolhardiness.

This is the 7th. time I've touched on the epidemic in this blog. I hope I can use these notes when I look back at what happened in 2020, the year marked by Mahathir as the targeted emergence of this country as a developed nation. That we have not achieved that, is clear. That we may have regressed is probably also clear, in more ways than we care to acknowledge.

While we can laugh at the goings-on in USA, with the ludicrous White House in ridiclous comedy of errors, Putrajaya is not spared the melodrama of greedy politicians grabbing pieces of the state. Because that's what it is, the state going to pieces. Having avowed the end of avarice of the ousted old regime, the new leaders (there may be one Prime Minister, but definitely many hands are on his throat) have decided to make hay while the sun shine, and the ministries and the GLC's are fair game and literally up for grabs.

Meanwhile, I have missed 15 Friday prayers to date, and may miss a few more, looking at the SOP. Hank called Friday, asking for suggestions about our halted Friday prayers. So I told him to follow the SOP, or like me, wait for August when hopefully normalcy in our daily routine is restored. I think he followed my suggestion.

The OP at Parliament, Yang Arif Arif (The Honourable Arif lah), the Speaker, says Muhyiddin has told him to pack his bag. He's ready, he says. But his Deputy, unlike him, an elected Member of Parliament, has some fight left. He contends that only the House can remove a sitting Speaker and his Deputy.  Well, Monday August 13 looms large, especially that number "13". We'll know if the motion from PAS for a confidence vote for Muhyiddin wins, or Mahathir's motion of the opposite wins.  Or it might be just passing motion in public !  Unlucky 13.

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A motorcycle or a scooter ?

Fri June 26, 2020.

When I got up this morning, it was raining heavily. Jane called and said we should cancel our game today. I called Ong and said the same thing. That's why I'm in front of the pc now.

In varsity I had a Honda 90 motorcycle (BN 3950) I bought brand new in PJ Old Town using my NS scholarship of 1,750 per year (those days the university was divided into years, not semesters). This was 1965, so that was sufficient money for school and for modest daily upkeep.  And for the installments. After me, Din, a younger brother who went to med school in the same varsity, used the bike for 5 years. When he completed his exams, I had to go to Ibnu Sinna college to retrieve the bike parked at the back of the hostel. I kept the bike in Damansara Utama for a combined total of 25 years, and would probably have it still if not for the wife. When I was at work in Port Kelang she casually asked a passing Indian man if he wanted the bike, which I had parked outside the house gates because the porch was full, with 2 cars and several very large flower pots. Calit, my youngest brother was witness. It was still in running condition, with full road-tax and insurance. Was I annoyed !

Later that year (1991) I bought a superbike and a touring bike in quick succession, a Honda CBR 600 (BDP 600), and a Kawasaki Vulcan 750 (WCR 6600). These were from the motorcycle shop at Section 16, near the original UIA campus. I don't remember why I bought two, but they were for different uses, of course. The Honda was very fast. I did 260 kph on the highway once. Another time it took me 1 hour from Damansara Utama to KP. The Kawasaki wasn't as fast, and cannot be driven that fast in comfort, anyway. I could do 160 kmph easily, but by that time, because of the sitting position, my trousers would be blown up right up to my knees !

In 1995 when I  moved to Seremban I was the only one riding these big bikes in town, and I had to go back to PJ for servicing. That, and the fact that I felt (mistakenly) my new career didn't allow for big-bike riding, made me sell off the relatively underused bikes. At a loss, of course.

I bought two "kapchais" one after the other, later. The first one was when still in Damansara Utama, but No.2 Son took it to Arau when he was at UiTM, and later No.3 Son used it until it was stolen when parked at the Kelana Jaya LRT. He said he had the chains on, like I told him to. Later I found the chains in his room in D.U. About 8 years ago I bought an LC 135 Yamaha (NCA 211) that I used for a while before No.2 Son, again, took it to Subang Jaya and used it until last year, when he bought the Kawasaki 900 he's using now. So I took the Yamaha back.

No.2 Son drove the Yamaha hard when he had it. But he'd always maintained it well, except the tyres are now not 100% alighned, because of a fall. When I take a sharp corner I can feel the off-balance, which can be dangerous. 

Riding long distances is not the strong point of the"kapchai". In town it's very convenient, and I use it all the time now. I consider my bike-riding a hobby, but I also need to ride longer distances to nearby towns or places of interset. 

When No.2 Son came back for the belated  Raya, I made him drive me in No.3 Son's Wellfire to the Senawang motorcycle shop. It has a large stock of all grades of motorcycles and scooters. We inspected a couple of "Dominar 400's" from India and the scooters "Elegan" from Modenas and the "XMax" Yamaha. The price differences were substantial.

The Indian Dominar is very cheap for a 400 c.c. motorbike. At RM 11,000 it's an attractive buy with a catch. Because of the engine configuration and the suspension type, the read-ups I checked on the internet say that the biggest problem is the vibration. Actually this is serious if you talk of hours of long rides. This is one reason the smooth-riding Japanese bikes are superior to other makes.

I've never owned a scooter, although I've ridden them. But the modern Taiwanese and Japanese scooters are a different breed from those early Italian jobs we see here. They are well-balanced, well-equipped and powerful machines. And the scooters are much more comfortable rides.

I've narrowed down my choice to 3 models - the XMax Yamaha 250, the Sym 250 and the Elegan 250. The Yamaha is the superior model on all counts, but comes with the highest price of 24,000 o.t.r. The 2 Taiwanese Sym and Elegan are much cheaper. Sym has superior features to Elegan but costs 19,000. Elegan costs 13,000.

The Dominar 400 will never match my CBR 600. A Kawasaki tourer costs nothing less than 35,000 today.

I think I should try the scooters. And I think the price should be my deciding factor. So here goes.

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Father's Day 2020.

Sun 21 June 2020.

No.2 Son's congratulatory sms on Father's Day reminded me about it. In fact I received another one from Jack Harper, and I wish him the same thing, being a father himself. But there's silence from the other three. But it's ok. I've never celebrated this thing, anyway.

I remember a "hadis" which says "the duty of a father is give his offspring a good name, educate him/her, and marry him/her off." It's for this hadis I chose my children's names carefully,  spent a lot of money on their studies, and provided for their marriages.

Since my own name starts with the last letter of the alphabet, I was determined to pick names with "A", the first letter. So we have Azat, Ashraf, Ahmad and Amalina. That "Ahmad" was because of another "hadis" which says "if you have three boys, name one of them after the Prophet."

I remember in school, it was in Std. 6 and the teacher was Mr. D'Cruz, and he read out the results of a class test. He'd finished reading out the names and the scores, but there was no me. I raised my hand and asked "what about me, sir ?" Mr. D'Cruz looked at his list and couldn't find my name. Then he turned over the paper, and there was my name, the only one on that page. And I think I beat everyone, except Peter Kam Chin Aik, the dental surgeon's son.

And through life, when it came to lists, I always end up last. Even on my university graduation day. So "A" it was for the kids, and they're always on top of their own lists. But not necessarily on top of the class ha ha !

No.2 Son did one better than me. He has given all his four boys the names Arshad Ashraf, Amer Ashraf, Azim Ashraf and Arish Ashraf. So they're all "AA" ! But we call the last one with the "gigi ngongak" simply "Aya".

I sent No.1 Son to Hawaii-Pacific University. No.2 Son went to Charls Sturt University in Sydney. No.3 Son went to UiTM and later obtained his Chartered Accountancy from Glasgow. Dekna also went to UiTM, and got a double-degree in Law, with a First Class Honours to boot. So I think I'm all right on the education-provision for the kids. 

They all picked their own life partners. I set up their marriage ceremonies - three at the Seremban town hall, and one at the Dewan Merak Kayangan Felda in KL. They were not extravagant, to be sure, but they were not to be ashamed of either. But the guests contributed enough to cover the catering costs in all of them. So, again, I think I'm all right on the marriage obligation of the hadis.

Dato' Sulaiman says I married late. That's why my eldest grandchildren are only in Form 3, when he says he has three already in the university. But that's understandable. I  graduated at 23, worked for 4 years and then got married. He was an H.A. at Seremban Hospital and naturally married a nurse there (who else) in his early 20's before embarking on his successful legal career.

My 11 grandchildren seem living a  good life. In all cases, both parents are gainfully employed.  My wife stopped work after marrying me. Now my silent prayers are for their good health and good fortune in life.

In the meantime, after the sms, I replied with a dollar sign and a question mark. No.2 Son's answer was a dollar sign with wings. "Flown"!

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