Faggot

Faggotfag. A term I learnt some quarter of a century ago in England. Fag can also mean cigarettes but not in this case.

Hari tu aku dengan Wifey drive ke Ikano sebab nak melepak dengan Spena and Komar. Masa nak masuk parking tu aku dah tak tahan sakit perut. Ini mesti perut terkejut sebab raya makan macam babi, so aku suruh Wifey drop aku kat entrance and berak while dia pergi cari parking.

Aku pun rush la ke toilet sebelah A&W tu. Sambil aku berjalan laju, aku ternampak sorang twinkie ni yang sedang bersandar kat dinding sambil berSMS. Aku tau term twinkie ni ada orang gunakan untuk pompuan blonde, atau orang Asian yang perangainya lebih mat salleh dari asian, tapi twinkie dalam konteks ni adalah mamat gay yang muda dan jalannya mungkin ala-ala Jah Mahadi yang berlakon dalam filem Madu Tiga sebagai Hasnah, isteri kedua Jamil; maka twinkie di sini adalah merupakan satu pejorative.

Dia pandang aku. Tapi aku dah nak terberak sangat-sangat kan, so aku buat donno aje la. Dalam toilet tu cuma ada mat bangla yang sedang mop lantai yang senantiasa basah tu.

Lepas tu aku dengar booth sebelah booth aku tu ada orang masuk. Masa tu aku tengah buka seluar. Aku dengar macam orang kat sebelah tu panjat jamban, lalu aku pandang ke atas dinding. Aku nampak kelibat twinkie tadi. Aku pun jerit la HOI! Dia tunduk. Aku tunggu…tak ada. Aku pun duduk la memberakkan taik cair dan masam sebab aku makan ubat-ubatan aku dengan breakfast yang tak mencukupi.

Lepas tu aku dengar lagi macam jamban tu dipanjat. Aku pandang ke atas, cepat-cepat dia tunduk balik. Mula aku kepala hangin dengan cibai sekor ni. Aku tunggu…dia tak muncul. Lepas tu aku siap berak, aku pun pasang la paip nak basuh. Sekali aku nampak bebayang menandakan lampu di booth sebelah terhadang. Lantas aku talakan (tala-kan, bukan talak-an) pemancut tu ke atas dan aku sembur menghala ke gayboy lembut tadi….tak berhenti. Gedegung-gedegang bunyi dia scramble dari bahagian atas jamban menghala ke pintu…aku sembur je terus. Lepas tu aku dengar pintu sebelah dibuka dengan kuat dan bunyi tapak kasut berlari keluar. Cepat-cepat aku basuh berak dan bergegas keluar kot-kot twinkie tadi cuba nak mengeringkan bajunya, tapi yang ada cuma bangla tadi yang menggeleng-gelengkan kepalanya sambil membawa mop.

Aku keluar dan berjalan ke arah Starfucks di mana Wifey dan yang lain-lain berada…ada pulak SALE FOS kat situ…aku masuk…mana la tau jumpa kimak tadi tu. Tapi tak ada. Yang aku jumpa hanyalah iklan di bawah yang mungkin menerangkan macam mana twinkie tu boleh belah tanpa boleh dikesan:

Macam Superman jugak
Macam Superman jugak…cuma yang ni pakai spender pompuan kat luar leotards

Entahlah

Raya dah hari keenam hari ni. Not that I care la, kan?

Masa raya ke berapa entah hari tu ada la diorang tunjuk mini concert by stars yang dah faded ataupun dah jadi black hole. Di antaranya tu is what was a girl-group called ELITE. Masa aku tengok diorang menyanyi dan menari tu aku rasa sekarang ni elok diorang call themselves CELLULITE.

Hari ni pulak ada model yang kena tangkap tengah baik punya tanni, and badly wants to be caned for her offence, sekarang kata nak berlakon pulak lepas dah kena caning. It makes you think if this episode had been a publicity campaign on her behalf all along. It sure gives a new meaning to the saying:

“NO PAIN, NO GAIN!

Anyway, raya has been good, apart from a furniture-equivalent episode. Had fun with Wifey and her brothers and cousins, makan-makan and bowling together. The eve of raya, the family had the usual last berbuka gathering.

On the third day, we went to Tioman. Kejadian pelik yang kitorang nampak kat Tioman cumalah this group of Middle Eastern yuppies yang ada Ailurophobia. Nampak aje kucing, siap nak berdiri atas kerusi. Kalau yang pompuan aje takpe…ni yang jantan bertelor unta pun sama. Mungkin diorang adik-beradik suku-sakat piyut-piyat Imhotep kot.

Baghal.

Anyway, here are some pics to share with all of you; wishing you a happy Hari Raya Aidilfitri.

Mixing vodka into the orange squash for berbuka
Mixing vodka into the orange squash for berbuka

Ambil lauk berbuka
Ambil lauk berbuka

Happy dah kenyang
Happy dah kenyang

Esok tu raya…kitorang berkumpul kat rumah kampung my wife’s family:

The cousins
The cousins

Malam tu pergi bowling beramai-ramai
Malam tu pergi bowling beramai-ramai

Raya ke-3 kitorang cabut ke Tioman:

Wifey kat bawah Salang Jetty
Wifey kat bawah Salang Jetty

Jellyfish kat Tulai
Jellyfish kat Tulai

Phyllidia elegans kat Fan Canyon
Phyllidia elegans kat Fan Canyon

Excellent Publicity

I know it’s the eve of Aidil Fitri, but I guess another post won’t hurt. Today, I shall talk about publicity.

Malaysia has been the subject of negative publicity for as long as I can remember. From the 13th May tragedy in 1969, the hostage-taking incident at the AIA Building on Jalan Ampang in KL back in 1975, the hijacking and subsequent crash of a Malaysia Airlines Boeing 737 (Flight MH653) in 1977, Dr M’s Look-East Policy, someone’s ARSEnic and ASS-ASS-in claims, caning of a Muslim model for drinking beer in public, sweeping of Malaysian citizens in Jakarta because Discovery Channel’s screw-up (and Malaysia got the blame), and the latest, Malaysia being blamed for exporting terrorists to Indonesia.

I dunno…this latest Malaysia-bashing episode is a bit off. With due respect to my lovely Indonesian friends, first and foremost, Noordin M Top was a protégé of one fiery Indonesian cleric called Abu Bakar Bashir (or Ba’asyir), whose apprentices include the Bali bombers. The latter ran a religious school in the southern Malaysian state of Johor. To the Malaysian-bashers, please remember that Noordin provided the paraphernalia for idiots from your country so that they could blow themselves up, along with dozens of good and innocent Indonesians, as well as foreigners. If you trace the line carefully, you will see that it goes back to the teachings of another idiot who is from your country, who is giving Islam a very bad name.

Grow up and move on, neighbours!

Putting those issues aside, there is this publicity that I would very much like to highlight. It is about a 107-year old woman who wishes to wed her 23rd husband because she does not want to spend the rest of her life alone – while she is still married to her 37-year old 22nd husband who is a drug addict currently undergoing rehab. Believe it or not, I first read about it on CNN.com, but the best publicity on it comes from Dlisted.com. I had a good laugh reading this piece, and it certainly made my day.

Oh, man! Talk about Cougars!

Hari Raya Memories

We had several helpers when we were living at the government quarters from January 1976 through July 1994. And two days before Hari Raya, they would be busy at the rear portion of the house. Kak Ziah would be the Chef de la Cuisine, while Abang Mazlan (her husband), Pakcik Shukor, Pakcik Saad, arwah Pakcik Mat Nor, “Inspector” Kana, and arwah Pakcik Ramli, would be helping her, as well as help do the arrangements for the 3-day open house my father would be hosting annually. Save for arwah Pakcik Ramli, who was a police corporal from the Federal Reserve Unit (replacing Pakcik Samad, who was also from the FRU) when he started as the driver, and Kana, who was a general labourer seconded to our quarters, the rest were all Auxiliary Policemen and Policewoman. In between that, in the late 1970s, we would have arwah Pakcik Salleh, who was my father’s second driver, and his wife, arwah Makcik Jam, joining the group.

The basics like Rendang and other dishes would be cooked in-house, while stuff like lemang, nasi himpit, drinks etc would be provided by the Officers’ Mess.

While all that’s happening, my mother would be spearheading cookie-making operations at the Officers’ Mess with the senior officers’ wife, that would be distributed among policemen all over the country who would be on duty during the festive season.

On the eve of Hari Raya, the preparations would be at a feverish pace, dying down usually past midnight; and almost all of them would be sleeping at the workers’ quarters behind our quarters. I would be there to listen to their jokes that they would be cracking ’til the break of dawn.

Year in, year out – the routine would be the same. Gone are those days now.

Pakcik Ramli was later transferred to Bukit Aman’s store when he suffered a heart attack and was no longer fit to drive. He passed away in his hometown in Jerantut after his retirement. Makcik Jam passed away at her in Seri Lalang home near Kluang, when she fell in the bathroom. Pakcik Salleh passed away several years later. Pakcik Mat Nor passed away several years ago. Before he passed away, he asked for my brother, Joe, but his family had no idea how to contact him.

Next year, Wifey and I will host our first berkampung when we’ll have all our children together with us, preparing and celebrating Hari Raya together.

I hope, they will have sweet memories of their Hari Raya with us.

Kumpulan Nasyid al-Himar

Saja aje aku buat lyrics ni…boss aku baru aje lambakkan kerja colleague aku yang kini bercuti di luar negara kat aku. Patutnya mamat ni handover kat aku dia punya portion report untuk company exco meeting lusa ni, tapi dia kata nanti dia siapkan kat oversea dan hantar kat aku. Sampai hari ni tak ada. Jadi boss aku dah panic.

Maka, sebelum aku nak kena buat segala market research dan reporting format dari scratch untuk mamat ni punya portion, biar aku lepaskan tension dengan lirik lagu nasyid kumpulan al-Himar yang bertajuk:

Berjimak Di Pagi Raya

Bahagia rasa di hari ini
Takbir bergema di waktu pagi
Kan ku naik di atas perut bini
Tak perlu batal puasa lagi

Syawal menjelma takbir berkumandang
Taulan bersalaman eratkan silaturrahim
Tapi sebelum ku jamah ketupat lemang
Biar aku semai benih di rahim

Chorus:
Ku mandi wajib di tepian perigi
Selepas berjimak di pagi raya
Ku mandi wajib di tepian perigi
Selepas berjimak di pagi raya

Setelah projek terlaksana
Bini senyum penuh bahagia
Pagi Syawal lebih bermakna
Selepas berjimak di pagi raya

Ooooo…selepas berjimak
Di pagi
Raya

Okay, back to the grinder…

ISA

Mat Yoq

I attended my batch’s annual sahur last night and among those attended was Yahya Sahri, the former Special Officer to the Menteri Besar of Selangor, and is now an aide to a certain opposition (depending which side of the fence you are looking from) politician. The topic revolved around Selangor politics and someone asked him why was a certain Selangor politician sounding like a mentally-ill person.

“Oh, dia masuk ISA dulu,” replied Yahya, commonly known to us as Mat Yoq. “ISA ni siapa masuk mesti tak berapa betul punya bila keluar. Bapak SeaDemon dulu kendalikan ISA ni effective betul. Sampai sewel orang dibuatnya.”

I looked at him stone-faced and quipped, “Diorang masuk kejap aje dah complain. Aku seumur hidup dengan orang tua tu. Sebab tu aku macam ni!”

And they all laughed hysterically…

What It Means To Me

It’s the 22nd day of fasting, and in less than a week, the mad balik kampung rush will commence for millions; with their baju melayu or baju kurung all set to be worn, kids bouncing up and down the back seat killing both time and the mental stability of the parents; bus and train loads of less fortunate people plying the highways and trunk roads; the richer fly Malaysia Airlines, and the less-fortunate richer people fly Air Asia. Not everybody can fly this Hari Raya as tickets to most destinations have been sold out, so much that I had to cancel my trip to Miri because the only return date I could travel on would be on the second day of Hari Raya.

Of course there will also be those who would return to their hometowns and stay put 2 meters beneath ground level.

Hari Raya, to me, has always been about spending it with loved ones.

My early memories of Hari Raya would probably go back to when I was 4 or 5 years old when we were in Melaka – I remember we had this huge chinese antique urn and it had this plant in it where the Hari Raya cars were hung on display. When I was 8 and/or 9, we would celebrate Hari Raya at our Section 16 house in PJ. It was between the ages of 10 through 17 that we would occasionally return to my mom’s kampung mostly, and my dad’s about twice.

Sadly, I do not remember much about my paternal grandmother. My paternal grandfather passed away when my father was 13 years old. Some friction between my father and my grandmother over the death of his favourite younger brother after whom my younger brother is named, and his subsequent tight schedules due to his job, meant that we siblings spent so little time with our paternal grandmother. However, every year, whether or not we would go back to her place, my grandmother never failed to send me kuih bahulu ikan. Hers is still my favourite, and I have never found any that taste quite like hers. She also made the bantal alas tangan for my elder sister’s wedding as her wedding gift, but passed away two months short of the wedding itself.

I think, Hari Raya was more meaningful to me as a kid, I guess, especially when it was celebrated at my mom’s kampung, with all the cousins. Once married, the meaning of Hari Raya was somewhat different for me. It was about going back to your spouse’s kampung, meeting new sets of people, trying to remember who’s who and what to whom, trying to assimilate and understand the nature of how they celebrate their Hari Raya – I mean, they have been doing it a lifetime, and here you are, trying to grasp the idea. Then, when you have kids, it was about making Hari Raya as fun as possible for them, and you realise that the Hari Raya that you had more than a decade earlier, is the Hari Raya your kids are learning to enjoy. I guess Hari Raya would be more meaningful if the spouse is fun to be with. After my divorce, I spent Hari Raya in 2007 diving in Perhentian.

Me doing safety stop at the Sugar Wreck on the 3rd day of Hari Raya 2007

However, the month of Ramadhan has been meaningful to me this year, simply because I now have a spouse who is also fun to be with. And below has been how we have been spending our Ramadhan:

Helping Wifey with her Kacang Pool Hj Demon
Helping Wifey with her Kacang Pool Hj Demon

We also had berbuka puasa dates, this one at Baiti's
We also had berbuka puasa dates, this one at Baiti’s

Had great friends over too
And Ramadhan would be almost meaningless without having great friends over for berbuka

And taking the kids out for berbuka
And taking the kids out for berbuka

And as I mentioned earlier, Ramadhan and Hari Raya would be meaningless if the spouse isn’t fun to be with. This year, as we did last year, we spent a weekend in Tioman diving with friends:

With Wifey beneath Salang Jetty
With Wifey beneath Salang Jetty

I can safely say now that Hari Raya is more meaningful too; and I am looking forward to more happy Haris Raya from now on. And having a spouse who is a best friend helps.

Tragedi 090909

Phone rings at the office. It’s an external call. I pick up the phone.

Me: Hello?

Caller: Siapa cakap tu?

Me: Nak cakap dengan siapa?

Caller: Itu kat mana?

Me: Awak nak cakap dengan siapa?

Caller: Awak siapa?

Me: Eh, pundek! Engkau call engkau jawab la dulu! Lain kali cakap dengan mak engkau jangan memburit dengan anjing! Dapat anak bodoh macam engkau! Bahalol!

Caller hangs up.

Hangin betul aku. Puki la posa…

Kau Apa Hal?

Colleague A: “Nak describe macam mana kat client kita punya drilling equipment?”
Colleague E: “Self-Erecting.”
Colleague F: “Tak main la kalau nak kena Jack-Up.”
Aku: “Ye la. Tapi kita punya tender. Assisted baru boleh drill.”

Disebabkan perbualan di atas tu la, aku dan rakan-rakan aku kena panggil oleh Boss. Senior Manager HR sembang dengan dia kejap tadi pasal external auditor, seorang pompuan yang rupanya lebih kurang Ugly Betty, malah lebih layak digelar Fucking Ugly Betty, yang sedang mengaudit account sister company kami, rasa macam kami ni sexually harass dia. Dia kata kitorang cerita pasal sex masa dia tengah membongkok meneliti accounts dan sebagainya.

Kau dah lah bontot sekeping, jenis boleh membocorkan air mattress keluaran Smart Shop. Spec punyalah tebal kalau matahari kat belakang kepala engkau, mau terbakar semua ledgers yang kau belek tu. Muka jerawat mengalahkan the Pacific Ring of Fire. Dah tak faham dengan business kitorang, belajar la sikit pasal client! Ini main redah aje complain.

Kimak!

Eh, aku puasa!

Boss aku gelak free aje dengar cerita kitorang.