Category: Daily Whatevers

I feel nauseous reading the papers nowadays about how Pak Lah is now doing an about turn. Initially he banged away at the Terengganu Palace for appointing a Menteri Besar unconstitutionally; now he is seeking an audience with the King, who is also the Sultan of Terengganu, and says that there is nothing that cannot be solved diplomatically.

PUKE BIG TIME!

Anyway, back in January, I was supposed to go for a medical screening to determine both my fasting blood sugar, and the effects of the Enalapril Maleate (ACE Inhibitor) on my kidneys. The latter is for controlling my hypertension. There was no drive then for me to do so, I had no reason to want to be any better than I was then. I have been refused supply of my ACEI because I do not have any renal function test result. To do so today would still mean getting the results next week some time when my supply runs out by Saturday afternoon. Come Monday, I have to get back underwater to work.

As uncontrolled hypertension is bad for diving, I have no choice now but to not worry at all and take the necessary measures when I am underwater so my blood pressure does not elevate any higher than 140/80. With medication it is at 110/70.

I am going to do my work no matter what. The show is NOT going to stop just over a few tablets. I have a contract to fulfil and I am fulfilling it come what may.

Batu Pahat Police District Headquarters – courtesy of www.batupahat.org. Did I not pass here the other day?

I was drawing something or was making paper boats. We were waiting for my father to come home from Bukit Aman so we could leave for a break in Fraser’s Hills (well, my father could have wanted to go there for a meeting or something). Then the news came. My father’s predecessor, Tan Sri Abdul Rahman Hashim, was gunned down near Bukit Mahkamah by communist terrorists while on his way to Bukit Aman from Jalan Kia Peng. It was 7th June 1974. A day later the Royal Malaysian Police became a big part of my life. Every function held at the house was about the police force, everywhere we went there were escorts, hari raya or chinese new year or deepavali celebrations were with either ministers or members of the police force. Once, after an attack on the Police Field Force’s complex at Jalan Pekeliling (then Pekeliling flats), I remember going back home in a V-150 Commando Armoured Personnel Carrier from the Briged Tengah PPH. My friends thought it was so cool. If only they knew how hot and noisy it was in there.

I was first and foremost close to the Guards and Escorts branch of the police because they provided security at our residence, and still know most of them although most have been transferred on promotion to other police stations doing general duties or traffic. When I was still in college, I was close to the Marine Police (since 1971) and the Police Field Force, in particular the 20th Battalion (Senoi Praaq).

Over the years I cemented relationships with the VAT 69 commando unit, the Unit Tindakan Khas (UTK), Unit Udara (Air Wing) and even attended Criminal Investigations course at the Criminal Investigations School at the Police Depot in Jalan Semarak (before the school was integrated as part of the Police College in Cheras).

The police has been in bad light for several years, but over the last general elections, it has proven itself to act independently. This is important as the loyalty of the police should be towards the King and Country, as it is for members of the Armed Forces. I hope the initial good intention of joining the police will be remembered by each and every member of its rank and file so they can continue to protect and serve the rakyat without fear or favour.

I pray that God would guide them in executing their duties, and may He protect them when they leave their families behind to protect us.

As I lie on my tummy typing this (yes, I can actually lie on my tummy), my little monster Nisaa is sitting on my back reading one of my books on politics.

She is my quarrel partner. We would start our quarrels early in the morning, or at least when both are already awake. I’ll usually start off by saying, “Hi, Nisaa bulat” and she would reply “Hi, Ayah kambing” and things like that.

Sometimes when I am asleep in the room, she would wake me up, push the ASTRO remote control into my face and say, “Ayah, nak six one one.” Once she has gotten her channel, then she would turn up the volume, then leave the room.

Earlier this evening, as I was lying on my tummy resting, she asked me if I was okay. I told her I was tired. She said, “Kesian, ayah. Ayah letih,” then proceeded to lift my t-shirt then rubbed my back with her half-chewed Mentos.

I hope I can have an early nap tonight. I hope she’ll sleep early too.

I’m on this very important trip down south. Right now I am taking a break inside Batu Pahat’s Carrefour after sampling what Batu Pahat is famous for (besides Hotel Katarina and its CCTV rooms). I am logging in from the Old Town White Coffee inside Carrefour itself.

There are three wifi providers here. Besides Old Town, Hamid Corner and KFC have wifi too.

Strangely, only I seem to be using a lappie anywhere in this whole complex.

Today is the 100th day. And it rained like hell. As it is the 100th day, it would be my last day of mourning, and from tomorrow I should stay happy (I hope).

Coincidentally, a year ago today, Gee and I left for Perhentian for one of my best dive trips. We had Katakpink, Rj Ena, Nafi and some of the other guys joining us on this trip.

I just want to be happy after this. I just want to have some kind of hope in life. I just want to have someone to look forward to being with, to wake up with, and to look at before I fall asleep. I just want someone whom to me would mean everything, and vice-versa.

When the Soviet Air Force shot down a Korean Airlines Boeing 747 back in 1983, the Soviet authorities downplayed the tragedy knowing that in 90 days, the human mind would forget. And despite the late President Ronald Reagan’s attempts to get the UN Security Council to hit out at the Soviets, after 90 days no one really cared and the tragedy never made it to the frontpage of the dailies anymore.

I passed by Hutan Melintang yesterday on my way to Sitiawan, and it invoked certain painful memory. As I sped towards Lekir, I calculated mentally and it had been 98 days or exactly 14 weeks since that painful episode. On my way back, I made it a point to stop at Hutan Melintang by visiting a distant relative. I looked at the road leading to the jetty, and although my heart did not sink as it would have, there was still that gut-wrenching pain somewhat.

Tomorrow, it would be 100 days since then; and any traditional Javanese woman who had given birth on that fateful day would be cleansing herself in preparation for her first intercourse with the husband after a 3 months and 10 days confinement.

It is time for me to move on…hopefully.