“Vakratunda mahakaya
suryakoti samaphraba
nirvighnam kurmedeva
sarvakaryeshu sarvada”
I was chanting the Ganesha vedic shloka (I call it the Om Vakratund) that Hindus would chant in the morning before they start their daily chores. They’d pray to Lord Ganesha for his blessings for the day.
Maybe I should have done the equivalent of that as I was spending my hour and a half in the jam trying to get home after sending my daughter, Iqa, for her netball match. Everywhere the roads are jammed, then I remembered: it’s Federal Territory Day and roads are closed everywhere.
Kuala Lumpur became the first Federal Territory back in 1974 (since then, two other places have come under the Federal Territory – Labuan and Putrajaya). Prior to 1st February 1974, we would have to sing three songs during the morning assembly: NegaraKu, Duli Yang Maha Mulia (the Selangor state anthem), and the school song. Anyone born in KL before that day, would have the state code ’10’ (for Selangor) as part of his/her national registration identification card (NRIC) number.
A year before that, a packet of nasi lemak at the school canteen would cost only 5 sen; and with 10 sen in your pocket, you’d be feasting like a King. Of course there were boys in my school who would be buying a bottle of Coca Cola (beyond my affordability then) and entered the Coca Cola Yoyo Competition, while I would buy junk snacks just to get my Bruce Lee stencil collection (if not the Ultraman ones). Then came the oil crunch with the formation of the OPEC; and since I never got pocket money from my parents and had to rely on my daily butter with sugar sandwich and syrup in a tupperware (that is almost always empty by the time I get to recess time because most of it would have spilt inside my school bag), and had also to rely on my collection of Singaporean coins because they looked good with the little dragons on them, I was royally screwed: even the kacang putih seller stopped recognising Singaporean money. So I blame my current condition to my maid’s generosity in sprinkling tons of sugar onto the butter spread on my sandwiches (scapegoats are always good – especially when they are already dead).
1974 was a good year somewhat. My favourite times would be the weekends when I would spend time at my friend’s place at Taman Ibukota in Gombak. I’d wear a cardigan when it was morning school session (those days you’re on a 6-monthly dual-shifts: afternoon, then morning). KL would get misty on cold mornings. Then came June 1974 when everything changed. My father’s predecessor, Tan Sri Abdul Rahman Hashim, was gunned down by a communist assassination squad between the Lee Yan Lian building and Bukit Mahkamah (where Menara Maybank is), and my father was promoted as the nation’s top police post on June 8th, 31 days before my 8th birthday: and life turned to hell.
But life back in 1974 was simple. KL was just a simple city: Campbell building was the tallest then, save for the Parliament building. Pertama Complex, Bangunan Ming (on Jalan Bukit Nanas), Menara Zainal Abidin (former BBMB – where Bank Muamalat is now) were still under construction. And we friends, malays, chinese, indians alike would put “school first” than “race” whenever there is a quarrel between inter-school sports rivals. Race and religion were in our pockets somewhere, never to be seen.
How KL has progressed in terms of development, and regressed in terms of race relations, and changed in its character 34 years later.
My thoughts on 1974’s KL was interrupted when a car honked as the light had turned green. My car lurched forward and several minutes later, I arrived home. I gave a sigh of relief, went inside the house, greeted by my daughter Nisaa, asked her a few questions, then came into this room to log on to the Internet.
As I began to type this posting, a text message came in and it read:
“Ayah…kitorang dah habis main netball. Dah boleh ambik sekarang.”
Oh, crap!
“Vakratunda mahakaya suryakoti samaphraba…
SeaDemon Says 