Month: October 2006

Chalky is his nom de plume when he writes in International forums. Originally from Cornwall, he now resides in Selangor and has been away from home for sooooooo long.

Too long, in fact, that he no longer speaks like an Englishman does. When he went to Bangkok, the taxi driver told him that there was no way he is an Englishman judging from the way he speaks. When he made a call to England to someone he works with, she had no idea who he was, and upon introducing himself mentioned that he sounded more like a Pakistani.

Well, what can you expect from a man who has a horse for a Duchess?

Noticed how violent the rain has been in KL lately? A weather advisory was issued a few days before Hari Raya about this current phenomena and it was supposed to last through the 26th. Now a new advisory has been issued for an extension of one day.

Maybe it’s a way of the Devil complaining about DITC suddenly seen performing prayers and actually fasted throughout Ramadhan. Otherwise he would have been the sole samaritan helping restaurateurs in KL to make money during Ramadhan lunch and tea times, thus bringing down inflation through the increase in volume of monetary transaction in the economy.

But it could also be God telling Ming to belanja me, Countloon and Icecool to some massage…sorry…makan since his crown on the shoulders dah start to pick up cobwebs dah. We can forget about Choy la. He’s happy there in China chasing foul-smelling mouthed girls. Well, we can always makan on his behalf. Double-rations la.

Yeah…I just said that. The morning before Hari Raya itself, I sent two SMS messages to NTV7’s The Breakfast Show. One mentioned how bored I was and wished that hari raya was already over; the other telling some friends of mine to fast on that ultimate day.

Then it was back to my new old house in USJ (bought in 2001, lived there for 3 months, moved out to Gombak and Sungai Buloh, now moving back there) and continued painting the house with my brother-in-law. He painted inside while I did the fence. I spent 5 hours in the hot sun before a violent storm threatened to strike me with lightning. By that time, I was so dehydrated and my hands were shaking worse than Ronald Reagan’s ever did. If it weren’t the last day of fasting I could have easily ejaculated by putting my hands where they shouldn’t be. That was how bad the shaking was.

The final breaking of the fast was done at a mamak restaurant with my brother-in-law (quarreled with the wife over the phone about whose parents’ house should we spend the next morning at…and we’re both from the Klang valley) so I was too pissed off to break fast with her and the children. Then I went off to my parents’ place to help out with preparations. By the time I got back to my mother-in-law’s place in Klang at around 1.30am, I had had to reply to 7,201,835 greetings via SMS. I slept at around 4.30am and woke up at 10.20am. So my wife won hands down.

Left for my parents’ place at around noon. Steady stream of people visited the house. Two diver friends dropped by, Keith Khoo and Kimi. Although the open house was supposed to end at 6pm, food ran out at 4pm and more had to be cooked in situ. Final guests left at 9pm. Had a quick shower, re-arranged the house, and off we went back to Klang, where I had the first meal of the day. Yes, worse than fasting itself.

Today, went to Datuk Maria Abdullah’s house (Malaysian’s know her by her stage name Maria Menado, the first Malaysian Pontianak). Got invited to her grandson’s (Ari) wedding on this 3rd December. She’s a superb cook and I remember her fish head curry when I stayed at her Melbourne house for two weeks back in 1993.

Then went to my partner-in-crime’s house. Syahmi Naim is a Brit, a Muslim convert, with a lot of amusing tales to share with you if he knows you well enough. Haven’t seen him in over a year, and now we’re back together again to diss some more people off.

Now I’m back at home in front of this PC. I feel a lot better.

Somehow Hari Raya is no longer for me. I like fasting better.

According to top Muslim astronomers, Indian astronomers, as well as the US Naval Observatory, the new moon should be able to be sighted today at 0514UTC (0514 APLPHA), or at 1314 Malaysian time (1314 HOTEL). There is a big chance that Aidil Fitri will then be tomorrow instead of Tuesday. Barring weather conditions, at least officials at one of the 28 designated sites should be able to see the new moon.

So how will I spend the last day of Ramadhan and the first day of Syawal? As usual would be my answer.

First, we will all break fast as one family for the last time this year. Then we will all go back to my mother-in-law’s place in Klang. Much later we will make our way back to my parents’ place in USJ. Then return to Klang for the night. In the morning, we’ll be going to the mosque for prayers, then it’s off to USJ to celebrate at my parents’ place this year. After relative pigging out, I shall search for a hiding place where I can snooze peacefully, only to wake up later in the evening to pig-out again.

What about relatives and friends visiting? Well, if I see them, I see them.

During the onset of the Asian Economic/Financial Crisis back in 1997, my colleague, Kasmadi Muhammad a.k.a Madimat and I would spend time together in the office playing Age of Empires (I still play it until now!) and we would go for Sahur at Nasi Lemak Antarabangsa in Kampung Baru. Enroute we would listen to Joe Satriani‘s 1993 album called “Time Machine.” One of my favourites is a track called Rubina. Below is the live version played by Joe Satriani himself in San Francisco.

Enjoy:

Here’s wishing my Hindu friends and readers a very Happy Deepavali, and I pray that good will triumph over evil.

To those self-centered, narrow-focused Muslims who subscribe to the views of Takaful’s Head of Syariah Department, Fauzi Mustaffar, I have this to say to you: come and suck my dick.

As a 10-year old boy 30 years ago, I used to walk from my house (official residence of the IGP) at Jalan Perdana to the National Mosque for the weekly Friday prayers and Terawih prayers in the month of Ramadhan. I would do that for the three years before I went of to the Malay College in Kuala Kangsar. If my memory serves me right, the last Terawih prayers I did there was back in 1987, Friday prayers a year later.

I went there again last night for Terawih prayers. There was only one full line of people praying, unlike those days when you can get at least three. It does not mean that people are less religious, it just shows that there are alternatives to the National Mosque. 30 years ago you will not have another mosque nearby save for the Masjid Jamek some 2 kilometers away. Those days, the National Mosque’s staff quarters was nearby; the Police Officers’ Mess at Jalan Perdana (Venning Road Mess – now the Police Museum) was occupied by police officers and men; where the National Planetarium now stands, there were government quarters; there was a police barracks at my neighbour’s house (the Prime Minister’s official residence: Seri Taman) and the staff quarters co-located there; the Travers Road Police Station still had its barracks and quarters; where the Bird Park’s car park is now, there were quarters for the officers of the Prime Minister’s Department. Oh, of course there still is the Royal Malaysian Police Headquarters at Jalan Bukit Aman (Bluff Road). Then there were the railway workers from the old KL Railway Station, and the police’s Guards and Escorts division, that was quartered there too.

So all these people, myself included, would converge onto the National Mosque. It was so lively. The crowd more enthusiastic and so on, that I would look forward to going for my Terawih prayers every night. The atmosphere, pleasant. After prayers, I would just hang around at the mosque a bit longer, staring at the red neon sign of Aji No Moto flickering above the Klang Bus Stand.

Now, most KLites would prefer the sparkling and relatively new Federal Territory Mosque along Jalan Duta, air-conditioned and all. The nearby quarters are no longer there, including my house which has now become part of the Tun Razak Memorial of the National Archives Department. The police has its own mosque within the compounds of the RMP HQ at Bukit Aman.

It was sad to see less-enthusiastic crowd, but nevertheless, I was happy to see that people actually go to the National Mosque still…for Terawih prayers. If I live long enough to be able to see Ramadhan again next year, I would certainly do my Terawih prayers there at least once.

As I was driving back from Klang, I looked at my daughter Nisaa and remembered how she loves playing with dolls. Only to poke at the doll’s eyes and gouge them out. She reminds me of myself when I was 5 years old or so. I had a second-cousin on my mother’s side: Elly. She was about a year or two my junior in age and she lived in Kuantan, Pahang. She used to bring her doll along to the hotel where we were staying (somewhere around the riverside area) and me being me, would gouge the eyes of her doll out, dismember the limbs and so on.

Then I looked at Nisaa’s curly hair and that reminded me of my cousin Zarina, also on my mother’s side. She was about three years my senior, and when I was in the Malay College in Kuala Kangsar, she was at the Tuanku Jaafar College in Seremban. We’d write to each other as we did not have the luxury of E-mail then. Zarina got leukemia when she was 17. It was difficult to see her in pain then. She passed away a month short of her 19th birthday. When the doctor told her parents that there was no hope, they took her back to my maternal grandparents’ home in Pahang, where she spent the last few days of her life. The last I saw her alive, she behaved like a little child, pointing at us with her fingers like she was holding a gun and firing at us, smiling. I was told the morning before she passed away, it was like she had revived her strength. She actually got on her feet and laid her head on her mother’s lap, gently touching her mother’s face and said, “I can see Superman. Lots of them flying above me.” Her father replied, “Those are angels, waiting for you.” She smiled, kissed her mother’s hand, closed her eyes, shed one tear, and was gone. When I saw her face before the burial, she was smiling. That was in December of 1982.

Elly died a little over a year later..also of leukemia. I was in England then, back in early 1984. The news came as a shock even knowing she was suffering from her illness.

In May of 1983, I was in a swimming competition and had won my first gold medal when I saw the Officer in-charge of Police District (OCPD) of Kuala Kangsar by the pool. He came up to me and said, “I’m sorry you have to pack up now. Your father wants you back in Teluk Intan. Your grandmother just passed away.” Apparently, my paternal grandmother was watching TV and Datuk M Daud Kilau was on. She told my aunt how she loved his music, then went into the room, laid down and sneezed. So my aunt applied some Vicks on her nose. She took a deep breath and was gone. That was the only time I saw my father crying: only one tear.

Two months before leaving for Russia and the North Pole, I went back to my maternal grandparents’ place for Hari Raya. My grandfather was involved in an accident two weeks earlier when, while driving back from the mosque, pressed the accelerator pedal instead of the brake pedal…and crashed into a tree. So back to that night, I heard him get up at 3am, taking his ablution. So I got up and told him it was only 3am and way too early for the dawn prayer. So I made some soft-boiled eggs for us and he made us coffee. Thinking I may not return from the North Pole alive, I reminisced about how he taught me how to eat soft-boiled eggs with ketchup and dunk bread in the mix when I was 7 years old. My grandmother got up and babbled about the racket the two of us were making and joined us for this unearthly-hour breakfast. Little did I know my grandfather’s mental alarm clock was being disrupted by this very slow haemorrhage in the brain that was also killing him slowly. Two weeks later, as I was busy with my training, he passed away at the Neurological Ward of the KL Hospital. Three months later, after I returned from the North Pole, my grandmother, after being given a clean bill of health just months earlier, was told she was having full-blown cancer of the colon. Three months later, she too was gone…and I attribute her condition to her missing my grandfather terribly.

So you don’t know who’s here today and gone tomorrow. When you see them, your family and friends, make the most of your time with them.