I received this SMS yesterday:
I love yr batik n lingam posts but tak sempat nak comment since rushing today. Hurrah, SD d blogger that I used to admire is finally back! 🙂
I certainly hope so…
Weekend Plans
“So shall I book the pool tomorrow plus equipment for you?”
“Hmm…yes,” she replied, her fingers lightly grazing my scalp, one of her favourite waste of time. “I want you to teach me buoyancy and how to take photos underwater.”
“Okay, that leaves us with what to do tomorrow night then,” I replied back.
“Oh, mom called just now saying she might want to sleep here tomorrow because she is going off on Sunday,” she just remembered. “You know what that means, right?”
“That someone has to sleep in the middle then?” I replied with an innocent tone.
She laughed out loud.
Asalnya Di Sini Dan Aslinya Pada Asalnya
That’s me up there in a Temuan tribe village during an inter-village blowpipe marksmen competition. I came second and still have the prized “mengkuang crown.”
It was in December 1981 when I first encountered the Temiars and the Semais. I was awaiting my SRP (now PMR) results and had followed the 20th Battalion of the Police Field Force for their annual war exercise. Part of the exercise was to win the hearts and minds of the orang asli by staying in their villages. I was assigned to go under ‘B’ Coy under (then) Inspector Junaidi Mas’ud (last I heard he was a Supritendant somewhere in Selangor). The other company was ‘C’ Coy under (then) Inspector Idris Abdul Ghafar.
There were two Orang Asli battalions then: the 19th (now re-assigned as Special Duties Battalion to protect sensitive installations and VVIP residences) and the 20th (now disbanded). They were called the ‘Senoi Praaq’ (pronounced as SEN-OI PRAAQ or WAR PEOPLE in Temiar) battalions.
My first few days with the Temiar people were full of funny memories. I remember the first thing I was asked by several Temiar elders were “Kelau hak rayak ke ames?”
Now how was I supposed to answer that one? I won’t translate what it means but it is sufficient to know that they wanted to know the size of my member. Luckily I answered correctly.
In another episode, I was taught the wrong way to ask for water from a village beau. I asked this sweet thing “Hak sengglok ma yek?” I got a tight slap instead. However, the Batin ‘reserved’ her for me in case I decided to marry the girl later.
Of course I could now speak not only Temiar, but also Semai (Perak ones) and Temuan (Pahang/Selangor ones); but am more proficient in Temiar and Temuan.
The Temiar are a bunch of happy people. It was fun to see them carrying out their lives from day to day, and I grew to love the sound of their nasal woodwind (seruling hidung), and of course, the Sewang. In the highlands, these barebreasted dancing beauties would look very much like Raquel Welch after several rounds of downing homebrewed moonshine.
I miss those days…kids and dogs…people greeting me “Selamat Yehyah” or “Selamat La’ag” or “Selamat Layeg“, “Oi! Sen-oi gop! Hak elok gah?” and I would reply back, “Yek gah meyj! Hak hojja acak ong?”; or Macam malok hak?”. The reply would come as a simple “Meyj!”
It’s 3.26am already. Layeg doh yim hord babok tok elek kerenja’erh. Yek lasenu doh, nok sengglok. Babok tok mok. Ne sen-oi aje erh.
Heut lah. Selamat layeg!
Eh? Selamat Yehyah!
My Conversation With Lingam
Yes…it was me Lingam was talking to that fateful day. We were discussing the appointment of certain judges as well as those shortlisted to become the next Chief Justice. But as Lingam’s counsel had said, the voice and face in the video may be that of Lingam’s. In the age of digital recordings and editings, that seems plausible.
I told Lingam that I knew whose name were in the list and that certain characters had to be stopped. Otherwise it would be difficult to get out of a parking ticket court case even. Lingam just stood there and said nothing. When I told him that the new CJ had to be Ahmad Fairuz for fear that judge Malek would be an anti-establishment figure, he said nothing too.
To me, Lingam is just one dumb person. He never said anything about my suggestions. Instead he stared blankly.
In the end I took his cap off, held him by the neck, turned him outside down and poured the Lingam chilli sauce onto a side plate so I can dip my fish crackers in it.
What Time Really Is…
Newton’s view on time was opposed by the likes of Leibniz and Kant. Time is so mysterious that temporal movements have long occupied technologists and astronomers alike. Although periodic movements and periodic events have long become the standard basis of calculating time, men wanted something more precise (again – time) and introduced the certain number of hyperfine transitions of the caesium atoms to regulate the second measurement. This is how the SI defines the second:
The second is the duration of 9,192,631,770 periods of the radiation corresponding to the transition between the two hyperfine levels of the ground state of the caesium 133 atom
Very confusing for a layman like you and I perhaps. But even Einstein was confused. Einstein showed that if time and space is measured using electromagnetic phenomena (like light bouncing between mirrors) then due to the constancy of the speed of light, time and space become mathematically entangled together in a certain way (called Minkowski space) which in turn results in Lorentz transformation and in entanglement of all other important derivative physical quantities (like energy, momentum, mass, force, etc) in a certain 4-vectorial way.
After reading and researching what time really is, I have come to one final conclusion:
That TIME…is a magazine.
Silence
This is a song I used to listen to back in 2001. At that time, I was in my Proton Saga on the hilly road between Ampang Tambahan heading towards Hulu Langat…it was a dark night. I stood outside my car looking at the lights of the city of KL.
Little did I know that one day the lyrics of this song actually reflects a huge part of my life.
This is An Jing (Silence) by Jay Chou from his album Fantasy.
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?
? ? ? ? ? ?
? ? ? ? ? ?
The rest, you get someone who speaks Mandarin to translate the song for you.
Glueing The Babe’s Heart
Yeah…I heard that song playing.
Buddhist Babe was lying on her tummy listening to this song. Her top part naked, bottom half covered by the white duvet.
Hang on! Isn’t my babe a Catholic?
Oh no. This is the Buddhist Babe. And this is a special request from her.
I walked to the side of the bed nearest to her. “What’s wrong, Babe?” I asked, stroking her hair gently.
“I just feel sad my man broke my heart into pieces,” she said in a sad tone.
“But I’m here at your request,” I began.
She turned to look at me and held my hand.
“Will you unbreak my heart, please?” she asked softly.
Well, I hate to tell her the truth. To unbreak a heart isn’t easy. But I can start stuffing glue-like stuff inside her. Might glue back her heart too.
Lan Chao – The Man Who Sold His Az
If Uthayakumar were to tell the HINDRAF people that he is actually British and can no longer join them or support them, he would be cleansed royally by the latter.
Today we have another traitor to the cause in our midst.
When I met him for lunch, he was all casual but apprehensive, and tried breaking the ice to me by starting his conversation about how my Ibu sends her son to the same place as his. Maybe he thought breaking the ice would be better than me breaking his head straight away before he could finish his pathetic nasi goreng with telur dadar.
His name is Azlan Chao – the man who sold his Az. So from now on, he is known only as Lan Chao…then again, that is what we’ve been calling him since he wanted to ride on his younger brother’s fame (Jay Chao) but at the same time look like his elder brother, the MB for Pahang, Adnan Yaakob.
I remember during fasting month, he was dishing out his business card to us at Khalifah stating that he would never climb up Uptown Two again because he might catch ringworms (kurap). I guess the periphery clinics will be laughing to the bank after this treating him for that skin disease.
Neils, Fuad, Ah Keong, Sharifuddin, Shaking Lee, Taukeh Dora Dora, Walking Vibrator, Oneon and all alumni members as well as current members, please leave your most explicit comments for this posting. Describe him the best as you can.
The proof
Now he has no excuse not to play golf with me ever again.
Happy Birthday, Ayah
My father (bottom left) as a Boy Scout at the age of 10
It’s January 16th.
Today is both a happy and sad day for me. Today, my dear friend Hazyr turns 32, while my father turns 69. I am happy for the grace of God they have made it by another year, and I pray that He will continue to bestow upon them good health, prosperity and unlimited happiness. Sad because this would be the first year I do not get to wish him personally, as I did two years in a row before that (I did not do it for 3 consecutive years prior to that).
My father (center) upon graduating from University of Malaya, Singapore
Putting aside the differences, if I do not live to wish him the same next year, let it be known that I do love him very much. It hurts me to do this, but I have a statement to make, and I deserve to be heard and recognised; something I feel he should learn to accept.
My father, a young Supritendant of Police (eq. Lieutenant-Colonel) at the age of 27
Happy birthday, Ayah. Forgive me for my wrong-doings and for hurting your feelings. You are, have been and will always be the best father anyone could possibly have, and if I have to live my life all over again, I wouldn’t do it any differently with you.
May Allah bless you for having brought me onto His Earth.
The family – taken exactly a year ago
P.S: my friend, Ibu, has the hots for you
Growing Old Together
“Honey, I would love to grow old with you,” she said, removing her glasses to put her head on my shoulder.
We were watching a Clint Eastwood movie that co-stars Ed Harris. The breeze from outside was nice and cooling. I kissed the top of her head.
“I’m already old,” I replied. “How much older do you want me to be?”
She laughed, poking my ribs.
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