Beyond the Colour

I was supposed to write about something else but I guess this time I shall write about something that has become a plethora of jeremiad, tirade if you must, against the norm of these days. I have written about this several times before but I guess there is a need to write about it again.

The recent Sarawak state elections have proven yet again how diverse the Malaysians are, both in terms of the colour of skin and religious-belief. It is what that makes Malaysia unique; much akin to the USA which is a melting pot by definition itself. And the USA is 200 years ahead as a nation than Malaysia is; but using that as an excuse to not try and tone down the racial and religious sentiments just because the USA has yet to achieve that, is so wrong.

And here I go again lamenting over what it used to be like back then, four decades ago. This blog readers would remember how my father put me in a Chinese kindergarten, not two years after the race riots of May 1969. My aunt is married to a Chinese while my sister married an Indian. My wife is half-Iban. We’re a pretty mixed family. My parents speak in English to me, but it doesn’t make me any lesser a Malay. I know more Malay words, original Malay words, than the newsreaders of RTM, BERNAMA, RTM put together can come up with. I don’t use bastardised words like “OBJEKTIF” in any of my Malay writings because I would rather use the word “Matalamat” that is derived from two root words: MATA (eye) and ALAMAT (address) – the object that the eye sees.

I have a friend whose late father adopted an Indian girl and brought her up as if she was his own. I was there when this girl arrived with her biological father. She had just lost her mother to some illness, and her father had to travel in search of work. This friend is now a special officer to the current Prime Minister of Malaysia.

Seriously, playing with religious and racial sentiments is, to say the least, archaic. I cannot understand people who go around and find it fun to promote racial and religious schism among the people through their incessant nonsense-filled philippic. In the end, a political chasm is created between two groups. In the end, it is the nation that suffers ignominy in the eyes of the international audience.

I would commend the Prime Minister’s 1Malaysia initiative, but if we look at the reality, racial polarisation is more apparent in urban areas such as in KL, Penang and Ipoh, while in Johor Bahru, most smaller towns and in the rural areas, the only identifier of one’s race is his/her name. They eat together, go out together – we hardly see that happening, except amongst more educated people of my generation. If you see the cartoons by the cartoonist, Datuk Lat, we often see multi-racial characters mingle together. If you ask Datuk Lat if this is muhibbah he would tell you that there is no point in calling it muhibbah because people will just gel with one another. True, but this may be a bit difficult to see nowadays.

Among the non-malay names I can remember who were in the same class I was when we were in Standard 6 are Chow Kah Sung, Jeffrey Cheah, Michael Leong, Yong Choon Wah, Amrit Singh. There were more in our class of 30 but I have forgotten most. Definitely more than one-third non-malays in a class of 30 in a national-type school. The school my daughter has less than 20 non-malays in a total student population of 1,900. The various Ministers of Education have failed to identify the root cause for this glaring problem. Why do non-Malay students prefer vernacular schools? My take on that would be the obvious Islamisation of schools by the schools’ authorities. Second, the right to protect your mother-tongue, which to me, has gone overboard.

I would rather have every single student in a single school where everyone learns each other’s language and culture, with Bahasa Malaysia as the common identifier. They would also have good command of the English language and good comprehension of Mathematics and Science. The more children are separated, the more trouble this nation will be in when these kids grow up. What about religious classes? What about them? My only formal class on Islam was for 40 minutes per day, 3 days a week, taught by an ustaz in a Christian missionary school. I did not have to know Arabic, so on and so forth, yet I have been to Mecca four times. I know of some people who can recite the Quran yet have never set foot in Jeddah, let alone Mecca; and their view of Islam is so myopic you have no idea why are they so hostile for most of the time.

It is with the children that we must concentrate the most effort in ensuring unity as one people is achieved, but parents should also be supportive of this effort. Politicians advocating racial segregation should be shunned. There is no point having the people fight each other when politicians actually sit, eat, drink and joke together at the Parliament when they’re not at each other’s throat.

It is time we see beyond colour.

If Ever A Movie About Someone’s Life Is To Be Made, It Shouldn’t Be About Bieber

Screw Bieber.

No, I wouldn’t screw him even if he was the last girl on Earth. And if ever another movie is to be made about a real person, it should be of this guy:

Ted Williams - courtesy of Johann Generao

Ted Williams, the man with the golden radio voice – courtesy of courtesy of Johann Generao

Ted was a homeless guy who was discovered on a YouTube clip of a news report from Columbus Dispatch. According to Ted, a Brooklyn-born panhandler, he made the mistake of doing drugs and drinks, and that got him roaming on the streets; and as a result, never saw his mother for 20 years.

See the interview with Ted’s mother when she discovered his overnight fame

Since becoming an overnight Internet sensation, CNN affiliate, WEWS, reported that the Cleveland Cavaliers have offered Ted a job and a house.

Ted has since been reunited with his mother: click here

Watch his interview on WNCI here

If there is a movie to be made of someone who is an overnight success, it should be of Ted Williams, the humble guy who is always thankful to God.

As 2011 Approaches

Work-wise, 2010 has, as the preceding years have proved, to be a year of mixed fortunes. Bitter, sweet, bitter, sweet kind of year. It started off with my transfer to the drilling subsidiary from looking after offshore support vessels; initially as a representative in a 75/25 joint-venture company, where I was looked upon as an enemy spy, to a full-fledged employee of a 100 percent locally owned and operated drilling company (after we kicked out our former partner). In that sense, going from zilch to a full-understanding of drilling operations in less than three months, really wasn’t an easy path for me. I would say that I am now at 96 percent efficient at what I do, the other four is because I am the only person in my department that is doing what I am doing. I had my salary adjustment (though not to the level I had expected but I am not complaining). And I am earning the respect of both the offshore crew and onshore staff, as they now recognise the importance of what I do.

I also underwent several courses to enhance my knowledge (and up my value): I did two investigation courses, an auditor’s course, as well as a drilling course; chalking up course certificates as I go along. I have also identified several courses that I would like to attend in 2011. I hope the boss will let me attend them.

My health has been relatively good, except for the episode where I was interned at the National Heart Institute for a stress-induced Atrial Arrhythmia. Other than that my BP, heart condition, lipid and triglycerides count, Cholesterol level – are all within the normal range. Weight is what Wifey and I have been trying to reduce. So, on 1st October 2010, we started our diet which went well at first; commencing at 95.0 kilograms for me. At one point it went down to 93.1kg. But good offshore food shot that up to 96.4kg two weeks ago, and my last count today was at 95.8kg. Therefore, I am 0.8kg heavier than when I decided to go on a diet.

On the personal side, life gets better. I finally managed to buy a new car. So, we all travel in relatively more comfort than before. It costs me about 10 percent of my gross pay for its monthly installments, but hey! This is what life is all about. The better you earn, the more comfort you want. My daughter, Farhanah, did relatively well for her SPM examination last year, and is now attending college at a private university. I hope she will excel and make herself have the edge in the job market later on. My daughter, Fazira, earned 7As for her PMR examination, despite my thinking that she was going to fare badly. She will be moving in to stay with us and will be attending the school nearest to our house.

As I have always believed and maintained, the truth will prevail; and after a three-year exile from the family, my parents have finally found out the culprit behind the breakup of my previous marriages (as well as my brother’s), and Wifey has gained parents-in-law. I know my mother loves her very much, and that makes me happy. My parents will turn 72 in the first quarter of 2011, there isn’t much time left for us all to enjoy this long-overdue happiness. I, too, don’t think I have that many years to go before the curtain call. I just want to enjoy the rest of my life.

I would love to have done more dives in 2010, but work had demanded most of my spare time; and in my line of work, everything is so uncertain that it is difficult for me to plan ahead. Well, I could, but events could change that. Nevertheless, I had had some good dives in 2010, and managed to get Wifey her dive computer.

One of my photos was displayed at the National Arts Gallery. I never meant to take that photo; it was something I had snapped while waiting for my turn to take photos of the Pygmy Seahorse at Mabul. I’m glad I took that photo anyhow.

2011 I believe will be a more difficult year; thrift and prudence in spending would be wise. At the time of writing, the price of crude oil is at USD89.84, and by or before the end of 2011, it would be at USD103.00. There is hardly any new exploration; shallow water fields have all but dried up. Of the 4 wells that we have drilled at this one particular location, only one have shown to contain black gold while the rest contained water. Deepwater drilling is an expensive business, therefore production costs will shoot higher as concerns of crude supply shortage heightens. Never mind the sabre-rattling in the Korean peninsula; the global price of oil will shoot up.

So, no government, be it the present or the future (if there is going to be a change of government in the next general elections) will be able to subsidise fuel costs or keep price of goods down. It will be a global phenomenon. But, if you choose to believe in lies, be my guest.

Here is a summary of what had happen in 2010 for me:

January

Ushering in MMX
We ushered in MMX with the Usual Suspects

February

We ushered in the Chinese New Year
We ushered in the Chinese New Year

March

My photo that has made it to the National Arts Gallery
My photo that has made it to the National Arts Gallery

April

Visiting EWDP-B and EWDP-A
I did a pre-deployment safety survey at EWDP-A and EWDP-B

We went to dive Sipadan
We went with good friends to dive Sipadan

May

My brother-in-law, Shah, becomes a diver
My brother-in-law, Shah, becomes a diver

June

We went diving again in June
In June, we went to Tioman again, this time with my parents-in-law

July

Approaching PC-4
I went to inspect a sour field off Miri

And we went diving again
And went diving again

August

Berbuka at Raju's
Ramadhan came and several times we broke fast at Raju’s

Sahur Stallions
Ramadhan also meant joining my former batch mates for our annual sahur gathering

Berbuka Puasa at Tip Top
Ramadhan also meant food trips – and one of those was a day-trip to JB for berbuka at Tip Top

Berbuka at Savor Jaya
And another to Genting at Savor Jaya

September

Ramadhan al-Murtabak
And what is Ramadhan without the annual Ramadhan al-Murtabak dive trip?

The family
We celebrated Hari Raya as a family together at my parents’ place – albeit without Medina

Celebrating Hari Raya in Batu Pahat
We also celebrated Hari Raya in Batu Pahat

Aidil Diving
As with Ramadhan, what is Hari Raya without the annual Eid ul-Diving trip?

We attended Tan and Hosanna's reception
We also attended Tan’s and Hosanna’s wedding reception at Cyberview Lodge

Open House
We hosted our first Hari Raya Open House

October

We made our own lemang
We made our own lemang

Zaza and Kazu return
My lovely sister-in-law and her husband came back for a little over one week

Kazu diving
And Kazu discovered diving

Kids at Halloween
The kids enjoying Halloween

Our Halloween decor
Our Halloween decor

November

I went to EWDP-B on board the KM-1
I went on board our rig offshore Sabah

Cherating Beach
We also went to Cherating because I had to attend a seminar

Sara and Ben's wedding
And we attended my cousin Sara’s wedding

December

TJP 52 Gathering
My squad mates and I from Intake 52 had our gathering. 14 of 36 attended

My mom met my mom-in-law for the first time
My mom met my mom-in-law for the first time

Pyan's wedding
We attended a dear friend, Alfian’s wedding

Went offshore for an audit
I also had to go offshore for an audit

Conducting an investigation
I had to go offshore again the following week to conduct an investigation

Celebrating the December babies
And we celebrated the December babies at my parents’ place

In summary, 2010 was an okay year that saw my brother and I going back to the family’s fold, and my parents finally finding out who was behind the bad-mouthing of us.

I hope 2011 will be a better year.

HAPPY NEW YEAR 2011 EVERYONE

Is It Good Now That Virtually Everyone Can Fly?

Some may remember this posting of mine some time back in April 2010. I have not flown on Air Asia since.

This now is the Christmas week, and all flights to Kota Kinabalu is full. I had to fly to Kota Kinabalu via Kuching today on Malaysia Airlines. As most would know, Malaysia Airlines has also entered the low fare warfare by allowing people to choose their flights according to how much the fare costs, but providing meals and other services as part of the package (you have to pay for everything extra on Air Asia). As a result, now everyone can fly on Malaysia Airlines as well. I suppose you can imagine the nightmare now.

My flight from Kuala Lumpur to Kuching was rather uneventful. I traveled Business Class, good meal, comfy seat, and upon arrival in Kuching, went to town to have lunch with my wife’s cousins. The second leg of my journey was where the nightmare happened.

I was booked on seat 15D. That is an aisle seat. As I approached my seat, I saw a man sitting in it, reading a newspaper. Next to him was a cow I assumed is his wife. The window seat was occupied by her massive handbag. I smiled to the man and said, “Excuse me, this is my seat.”

He looked at me blankly, then went back to reading his newspaper. Then the flight attendant came and asked me what was the matter. I showed her my boarding pass stub and pointed to her that my seat was being occupied. The flight attendant then asked the man to move back to his seat, which was the center seat, and his cow of a wife, the window seat. They reluctantly moved back to the respective seat, and soon after the plane took off, I fell asleep.

Some ten minutes later, I felt someone elbowing my ribs. It was the irritating man again. He, too, was asleep, but had his elbows take not just the space on the arm rest, but a quarter of my seat’s space. Mind you he’s a skinny bastard, and I was sure there was more than enough room for him to sit comfortably in his seat without having to intrude into my space. So, I nudged his elbow back. He didn’t even flinch.

Mealtime came and the flight attendant woke them both up. The man ate real quick, like that was his first meal of the day at 5pm. The cow that was probably his wife ate like a pig – literally, eating the fruits straight from the fruit tray pushed into her face. When she finished her drink, she stole her husband’s, causing the husband to repeatedly press the button to call the flight attendant, who was still busy serving others, for more drinks.

If you think that that was how gross they were, think again. As I ate my Tomyam Fish, the husband took out the plastic coffee stirrer and started sticking it into his ear, twirled it around, took it out to have a look, wiped it on the flight’s newspaper meant for other passengers to read as well, then stuck the damned thing back in.

And I was STILL EATING!

Then, he stuck the damned stirrer into the seat pocket! Just when I thought he was done with his antiques, HE STARTED TO PICK HIS NOSE AND FLICKED HIS FINGERS! I had had enough and told him off! Was he bothered? NO!!!! He just kept going! Then when the turbulence got worse, he gripped his guaranteed-sticky-with-booger fingers on the arm rest next to me!

Around 20 minutes later we landed. And the aircraft had to wait for the ground staff to ready the aerobridge. The lead attendant had already announced to the passengers that they should remain seated. Hell, no! This couple had to stand up and tried to remove their carry-on luggage from the overhead compartment – RIGHT ABOVE MY HEAD!. I had had enough this time:

DUDUK LA BODOH!

The flight attendant got up and looked my way. Then, a few more voices from the back seats were heard saying virtually the same thing to these idiots.

They sat quietly – and when I left my seat later, they were still seated.

Hell Express – Part 2

An earlier article on the same matter was written in 2007.

Sani Express accident in December 2009
Sani Express accident near Ipoh Selatan Toll Plaza in December 2009

Some time after 7.30pm, Sunday, 19th December 2010, my uncle and aunt drove back home towards Kuala Lipis on the Benta-Kuala Lipis road. After taking a bend, they noticed a little too late that there was a car ahead of them that was straddling the road after skidding. They hit the car, and in turn were hit by two other cars behind them. My uncle suffered a broken sternum and two of his ribs that punctured both his lungs, and caused his heart to swell to twice its normal size. He is now fighting for his life on a life-support machine in the Temerloh Hospital.

My aunt on the other hand, suffered only bruises and shock.

She wore a seat-belt, he did not.

That made the difference.

As we stood near his hospital bed, my Berry beeped and I saw a newsflash on the tour bus accident near Simpang Pulai that killed 27 people including 24 Thais and 3 Malaysians, and injured 10 other Thais on their way to the KL International Airport from the Cameron Highlands. Just when I thought that 15 dead near Pedas on 10-10-10 was bad, this had to be the worst.

The Pedas-Simpang Ampat bus that crashed on 10-10-10
The Pedas-Simpang Ampat bus that crashed on 10-10-10

A total of 1.27 million people die each year around the world due to road accidents. That comes down to 3500 average deaths per day and 150 average deaths per hour. Between 20 to 50 million people suffer from injuries as a result of road accidents. And 90% of these figures occur in low and middle income countries. In short, road accidents IS a pandemic, albeit one that is often ignored.

According to WHO’s Global Status Report on Road Safety published in 2009, deaths caused by road accidents by age around the world in 2004 are as follows:

Ages 0 – 4 years: rank #14 (#1 – perinatal causes)
Ages 5 – 14 years: rank #2 (#1 – lower respiratory infections)
Ages 15-29 years: rank #1
Ages 30-44 years: rank #3 (#1 – HIV/AIDS)
Ages 45-69 years: rank #8 (#1 – Ischaemic heart disease)
Ages 70 above : rank #20 (#1 – Ischaemic heart disease)

In total, road accidents rank 10th on the leading causes of deaths worldwide.

In Malaysia, out of a population of 27,730,000 in 2009, we had 6.527 road fatalities. In the same year, we had 17,626,411 registered vehicles on the road. In 2008, our fatality per 10,000 vehicles stand at slightly below 4 while the benchmark is 2 fatalities per 10,000 cars. In the same year, our deaths per 100,000 population is at 24 while the benchmark is 10 per 100,000.

In 2009 and 2010, special operations were conducted by various agencies especially during the festive seasons. In a particular study of commercial buses from 39 companies plying the southern highways, of 154 trips made, only 35% had two drivers for long trips. Many companies installed anti-glare films, had drivers wearing uniform, had fire extinguishers on board, and each driver had a rest after four hours of driving.

However, a high percentage of drivers did not use seat-belts although it is mandatory (I bet you did not know of this mandatory requirement), quite a large percentage also did not have seat-belts for drivers and passengers. Only 20% provided seat-belts for passengers.

Out of 50 samples, 47 were using handphone while driving, 8 were overtaking dangerously, 30 tailgated, 1 was sleepy, and 20 performed harsh braking.

Average speed of those samples was 114km/h, maximum speed was 134km/h when their maximum allowed speed on highways is 90km/h.

As I ponder on the needless and senseless deaths of the bus passengers, wondering when will the government finally say “enough is enough and not bow down to pressure from the Association of Bus Owners, an express bus that belongs to a company my father once chaired overtook me on the highway as I was doing 110km/h.

Another nut behind the wheel.

A Writer’s Blog

On the publication of her 78th book, Kathleen Norris said the following:

“All writing is difficult. The most you can hope for is a day when it goes reasonably easily. Plumbers don’t get plumber’s block, and doctors don’t get doctor’s block; why should writers be the only profession that gives a special name to the difficulty of working, and then expects sympathy for it?”

Easier said than done. The last time I actually wrote was almost a month ago, during the Eidul Adha celebration, about my experience of going for the Haj. Between then and now, I had millions of topics ranging from religion to politics to bitching about stuff, that went unwritten because a topic would simply be overtaken by events. And this would go on and on and on that I never got down to writing anything.

Now for the blame game. My job has taken much of my time that I would be so burnt out during my spare time that I no longer read. In the last three months, I had bought me no less than five books to read; and the only one I got to read was by Paulo Coelho which I never got to finish. The sub-plots were going round and round, and things got monotonous that I gave up reading the book. It is still on the towel hanger inside the bathroom. I went back to reading defense magazines while on the porcelain throne.

Work has definitely taken a lot of my time; trying to juggle the year-end matters – rig inspection offshore, daughter’s school transfer, having to go back to my wife’s hometown for some kenduri, rushing my car to the workshop, juggling finances etc. It has been a stressful December for me so far and not being able to go diving makes it worse; not that I could if I had the time because the monsoon is here and to go anywhere else would require me to request to go on leave.

Talking about leave, I had to take six days off from my balance of eleven days of annual leave as we are only allowed to carry forward five days from this year’s leave. I get 20 days annually but only managed to take five days leave this year. The other four days were the emergency leaves I had taken. I am supposed to have like four days of replacement leave when I had to work over weekends and public holidays but I cannot be bothered to request for those days as it is so difficult for me to get any leave as it is now. The only reason I get to go on leave at the end of this year is because my boss is going on leave as well.

Other than that, November and December have been rather wonderful. I attended a three-day seminar in Cherating followed by a drilling-related course here in KL. And my mother and mother-in-law met for the first time over lunch at my mother’s house. My daughter, Farhanah, has also turned 18 yesterday – and I hope now that she’s 18 she’d learn to be more responsible towards her studies (that’s probably what my parents had hoped for 26 years ago).

Gosh! Reading back, I don’t think any of the above makes any sense at all. I hope to be able to write again soon, and write better. Well, I hope I’d get to write again upon my return from offshore.

I, Complainant

I have had it with the lawlessness that prevails in my area. Therefore, I decided to bypass the local police station, the OCPD, and the CPO who is a close friend of mine, by writing a complaint straight to the IGP’s office. This was what I wrote:

Daripada:

Kapt (B) Hj John F Seademon
xx, Jalan xxxxxxxxxx
Taman xxxxxxxxxxxx
xxxxx KUALA LUMPUR

Kepada:

Unit Pengaduan,
Urusetia Ketua Polis Negara (Integriti)
Ibu Pejabat Polis Diraja Malaysia
Jalan Bukit Aman
50560 KUALA LUMPUR

Tuan,

Rujukan dibuat kepada tajuk di atas.

Berhubung dengan perkara di atas, saya ingin membuat aduan mengenai kurang cekapan para anggota yang bertugas di Pondok Polis xxxxxxxxxx, Taman xxxxxxxxxx. Agak selesa saya nyatakan di sini bahawa kurang cekapan ini telah lama menjadi bahan mulut para penduduk di sini.

Selama saya berada di kawasan ini (sejak pertengahan tahun 2008), baru dua kali saya terserempak dengan para anggota membuat rondaan. Ketidak kerapan ini menyebabkan satu keadaan ketiadaan hormat terhadap undang-undang berlaku di kawasan ini. Paling ketara ialah para remaja, murid-murid sekolah, kanak-kanak bawah umur yang membawa motorsikal tanpa segan-silu, tanpa memakai topi keledar, berlumba di jalan raya, dan tidak menghiraukan keselamatan diri sendiri, apatah lagi keselamatan lain-lain pengguna jalan raya. Oleh kerana mereka ini adalah murid sekolah (ramainya di bawah umur), maka sudah tentu juga mereka membawa motorsikal tanpa lesen, bukan sahaja ke sekolah, malah untuk ke kedai dan sebagainya. Lampu isyarat juga langsung tidak dihiraukan oleh mereka. Sering beberapa kali saya sendiri hampir melanggar motorsikal yang memintas di hadapan kenderaan saya untuk membelok ke arah lain dan sebagainya. Keadaan ini menjadikan kawasan ini tidak ubah seperti jalan-jalan tanah merah di dalam FELDA.

Saya amat berharap agar pihak PDRM serius dalam menangani gejala tersebut. Sekiranya kesalahan menjadi suatu kebiasaan kerana ketiadaan penguatkuasaan undang-undang, maka rasa hormat orang awam terhadap PDRM dan integriti pasukan secara amnya akan terhakis. Agak sedih bagi saya yang telah membesar dalam keluarga PDRM sekiranya hidup untuk melihat perkara seperti ini berlaku.

Segala tindakan selanjutnya daripada pihak tuan didahului dengan ribuan terima kasih.

Yang benar,

Kapt (B) Hj John F SeaDemon

Let’s see how quick they reply and act on this.

OR-CARE!

Bibik.

Ada susah, tak ada pun susah.

Sejak aku hidup bersendirian ni aku rasa aku dah ada 5 bibik. Bibik yang second last dengan yang sekarang ni la yang boleh buat aku gila. Bibik yang second last tu kira macam harta pusaka la…diturunkan dari satu generasi ke satu generasi yang lain. Budak-budak takut dengan dia. In a way, bagus la kan. Ada disiplin sikit budak-budak tu. Yang tak bagusnya, semua benda nak kena ikut cara dia. Kalau tak ikut, dia punya masam tu mengalahkan asam paling masam. So, bagus jugak dia belah. Yang tak bagusnya sebelum dia belah, dia sempat mencopet beberapa barangan kitorang dalam rumah ni termasuklah seluar dalam Marks and Spencer aku yang masih dalam plastik, belum berbuka. Mahal tu aku beli. Satu hari, beberapa minggu lepas bibik tu belah, aku pun nak pencenkan seluar dalam aku yang dah lama, yang getah dah loose, yang kalau jalan 5 langkah getah seluar dalam tu akan berada di bawah telur aku. Aku pun buanglah semua tu. Sekali nak pakai boleh tak ada seluar dalam! Puas aku mencari kat tempat yang aku simpan. Tak wujud. Memang kimak la babi sekor tu. Aku sumpah dia kena langgar dengan lori babi kat kampung dia.

Dapatlah kami bibik baru. Budak-budak suka dia. Budak-budak suka dia sebab dia ni kalau jadi calon bertanding pilihanraya, budak-budak akan undi dia. Dia kasi aje budak-budak ni buat ikut suka diorang. So, dari rejim kuku besi, budak-budak ni sekarang macam kambing gersang terlepas kandang. Isteri aku yang dulu marah budak macam nak memujuk kucing suruh makan, sekarang ni dah pandai bawak hanger baju.

Sebelum dia sampai dulu, isteri aku dengan penuh semangat buat jadual kerja untuk bibik yang bakal tiba. Hari apa pukul berapa apa yang patut dibuat dan sebagainya. Kesian aku tengok isteri aku bertungkus-lumus buat benda tu.

RUPA-RUPANYA DIA BUTA HURUF!!!

Bibik ni ada sikit perangai alien. Aku tak pernah bersembang dengan dia sebab bila dia bukak mulut dia, aku langsung tak faham apa dia cakap. Aku ingatkan aku sorang je yang tak faham apa dia cakap. Rupa-rupanya masa Hari Raya hari tu aku bawak dia ke rumah mak bapak aku untuk nak tolong-tolong, bibik-bibik kat sana pun tak faham apa dia cakap. Boleh? Aku cuma faham satu benda aje yang dia cakap:

OR-CARE!

Itu OKAY versi bibik. Cuma disebut dengan penuh kegirangan, dan senyaring bunyi wisel keretapi arang.

Semua pun dia OR-CARE. Kalau cakap kat dia, “Bibik, nanti sebelum naik kunci semua pintu, ya?” Dia akan jawab, “OR-CARE!” Malam nanti masa turun ke dapur, haram satu pintu pun tak berkunci. Esok tu aku suruh la isteri aku tegur dia pasal benda tu. “OR-CARE!” dia jawab. So malam tu memang tidur nyenyak la sebab pintu semua berkunci. Malam keesokannya, pintu depan tak berkunci. So tegur lagi, dia kasi jawapan yang sama. So malam tu bila check memang berkunci. Tapi pintu dapur pulak yang tak berkunci! Bila aku beritahu suruh kunci semua pintu malam-malam, memang semuanya berkunci. TINGKAP PULAK YANG TAK BERKUNCI!!! Siap ternganga luas! Nasib baik la aku turun malam sebab dengar bunyi kereta kuat kat bawah.

Satu petang tu, masa balik dari kerja, isteri aku tengok pintu depan ternganga. Bila masuk ke rumah, satu manusia pun tak ada. Rupanya, dia bawak budak-budak tu pergi main kat taman! So isteri aku pun tegur dia bila balik. Suruh dia bawak kunci rumah bila keluar ke taman dengan budak-budak tu. Esok tu, bila balik, memang dia bawak kunci rumah ke taman. TAPI PINTU DEPAN TETAP TERNGANGA!!!!

Kalau engkorang baca ni tak rasa tension, aku tak tahu la.

Bibik ni pun ada emo jugak. Kalau kena tegur, memang macam drama TV3. Ada satu hari tu aku tegur dia pasal dah dekat pukul 9 malam baru mengaku barang dapur dah habis. Itu pun lepas isteri aku tengok dalam peti ais tu macam boleh letak almari dan meja makan sebab kosong betul. Esok tu, dia punya emo, bila aku nak keluar, aku nampak dia buka pintu depan tu sikit tunggu nak tutup gate, sambil tersandar di pintu macam scene drama melayu bila makcik kecewa dan segala cipap yang sewaktu dengannya. Sandar yang kedua belah tangan di belakang, tapak tangan tekap kat dinding atau pintu, dengan muka seposen yang paling cipet dalam dunia.

Malam ni, isteri aku tension dengan dia. Sebab? Sebab dia buat dadih untuk pencuci mulut. Dadih tu, kalau hantar kat lab, asingkan balik bahan-bahan dia, boleh dapat gula sebulan punya stok. MANIS MELEKIT!!! Isteri aku tanya dia masa buat dadih tu rasa ke tidak? Dia kata dia rasa. Macam mana dia rasa? begini ceritanya:

“1) Mula-mula buat dadih.

2) Rasa. Maka, rasanya tawar (MEMANGLAH TAWAR! SEBAB TAK ADA GULA DALAM MIXTURE DIA!)

3) So dia masukkan SATU GELAS GULA. GELAS OR-CARE? BUKAN CAWAN!

4) Lepas masuk, rasa lagi sekali dan pada dia masih tawar (DIA TAK KACAU!)

5) Masukkan SATU GELAS LAGI GULA!

Memang kitorang tak kasi budak-budak tu makan. Kalau tak malam ni sure ada yang lompat katil, atau angkat kereta aku letak kat luar sebab sugar-rush!

Hari tu, budak-budak demam. Isteri aku pun carilah ubat demam kat dalam peti ais. Tak jumpa. So, bibik ni, dengan penuh semangat bantulah isteri aku carikan ubat demam. So, dia pun bawakanlah satu botol ni kat isteri aku.

Bibik: “Yang ini ya?”

Isteri Aku: “Itu Essence of Vanilla la Bik.”

Lepas tu dia datang kembali dengan satu kotak berisi botol.

Bibik: “Yang ini ya?”

Mengeluh panjang isteri aku.

Ada ke patut TABASCO yang dia bawak?

Macam mana aku nak buat lagi? Engkorang nak suruh aku tukar dia dengan bibik lain? Engkorang kena ingat – dia ni boleh menang pilihanraya kalau budak-budak boleh mengundi.

Oh, dan dia sangat pemalu.

Katanya.

Tengok la gambar kat bawah ni macam mana dia posing bila kitorang ajak dia ambik gambar sama-sama.

Bibik ku malu-malu kambing

Malu-malu kambing, kau!

OR-CARE????

If You Ask Me

Ramadhan has come and gone, and we have gone forth past the first week of Syawal. And having celebrated its 53rd year of independence, Malaysia is only 47 years old.

I will not dwell into that much, but if you want to read more about the road to the formation of Malaysia, you can read my father’s article in The Star, or specifically Nothing We Cannot Overcome.

If you ask me about Malaysia, I have this to say:

We are definitely far more advanced than we were 30 years ago, but we have progressed superficially and lack soul. We have diversity but lack unity. I would say our race relations, peculiar to the urban areas, have but all gone down the drains – we are in a position worse than we were in immediately after the 13th May 1969 tragedy. We see each other by the colour of skin, the religion we embrace. I have only the politicians and religious people to blame. My own religion, Islam, in Malaysia, is riddled with misinterpretations, adoption of wrong traditions as norm, putting more trust in the words of holier-than-thou scholars than trusting God’s own words, looking at people of other religion as sub-human. There is little respect by people of my religion for people of other religion, and the respect and trust by people of other religion towards my religion are now running on vapour – no thanks to the ragheads and myopic religious scholars (plus those whom I term as Express-Bus religious).

Politics, too, is ever so divisive. Instead of becoming mature voters we take sides and become political-fanatics, seeing the supporters on the other side as nothing more than a threat to whoever’s-it-is security and existence. And despite the fact that power corrupts on both sides of the fence, we prefer this “lynch-them-to-death” stance so we can feel better about ourselves. We don’t only divide ourselves according to parties, but also by race and religion.

Social values have also gone down the drain. More and more dead babies turn up in odd places. The best part is, parents and society blame the government for their failures of their children. Then when some good samaritan propose the formation of centers for unwanted babies, religious group cry foul saying that that would only encourage more people to commit fornication and create more unwanted babies. People cry foul over everything, but never once do they come up with reasonable and practicable alternatives.

You get free cremation thrown into the package if you plan to buy land using a certain lawyer in the Kuala Langat district.

We are xenophobic. Okay, we don’t go around throwing shit or burn flags at a neighbour’s embassy, but generally we treat foreigners who work for us like shit. We treat our maids as if they are some kind of superwomen who need not enough sleep or food. Yes, there are crappy maids who are total crap and steal from you, but I said GENERALLY. The same goes to how we treat our foreign workers in the construction and plantations sectors. More often than not, you see foreigners who walk in a group get harassed by the authorities, stopping them, asking them for their identification. The way we see them, every single mainland Chinese or Mongolian is either a pimp or a prostitute; every single Indonesian woman is a potential RM30 prostitute; every single Thai woman is a potential masseur who gives happy ending; and every single African man is a rapist.

However, every single white-skinned guy is good to get married to; every single Arab we see as religious, despite them wearing the Hijab and eating in public in broad daylight at KLCC during the month of Ramadhan.

I’m sure there are more that I could add here. But I would like to hear what you think.

A Hari Raya Again

Ketupat

Hari Raya has never meant much to me, at least for the past four years or more. This is because Hari Raya meant the constant quarrels over where to celebrate and when; then in 2007, I found myself celebrating Hari Raya alone. In 2008, only my eldest daughter was with me on Hari Raya. The following year was more meaningful as I had remarried and celebrating with someone who truly loves you meant everything. Somehow, in the midst of the joy of Hari Raya, my thoughts went to my children who were not celebrating the auspicious day with me.

And this year, they are. It feels good to be able to hear their voice again in the morning. It feels good to know that they will all be with us this Hari Raya.

Selamat Hari Raya, people, whoever you are, wherever you are, whatever race and religion you are.

The wife and kids breaking fast together on the penultimate day of fasting

The kids playing sparklers together

Mother and daughter doing groceries together