In defense of taxi drivers.

I took taxis often and I am generally happy with them. They are in a way your private chauffer that enable you to leave your car at home and sleep through the traffic jam or long boring journey to or from KLIA. Of course I never rode in a Brabus or a Rolls Royce, my standard can’t be much of a benchmark. Still the taxis are to me just fine.

I love to talk to them. What their previous work was, the kind of income they are making and the general chat about family, how many kids or wives and all those nonsense. I always believe that if we treat a person with kindness, talk to them as friends would, the response would be reciprocal. You would be surprised at the information and entertainment quality of these chats. I find it even fair and at times necessary to tip them a little. After all that’s what we do at the hotels and restaurants. After all, in our students days we used to work part times in restaurants and those tips were greatly valued. It was never the amount but the appreciation that matters.

This morning [31.3.09] on radio, three deejays were discussing newspaper report of Malaysian taxi-service. Utusan Malaysia even front-paged ‘Khidmat Teksi Teruk.’ So they exchanged opinion. The lady deejay excitedly related her bad experience over 2-ringgit extra than normal 6-ringgit meter charge, and the gentlemen deejay came with great idea of proposing a GPS based tracking and metering system. He even expounded on, ‘No GPS no taxi!’

The tone of their talk, insinuating that taxi drivers are rotten, manipulative, breed, pissed me off. Granted not all are angels but they deserve some humane respect at the least.

I wanted to call and give them a piece of my mind but I am just not into the talk show thing. So I write.

One. The extra 2-ringgit charge could be due to several factors. In cities, the distance back and forth from two points may not be the same due to actual distance traveled. The road going and back may not be exactly the same. At the current rate of RM2 for the first kilometer and RM1 for subsequent 1.5 kilometer, the variation of RM2 is only for an additional 3 kilometer. With KL road network, that is only the length of getting pass the traffic light and back. The time of the day when there are traffic jam or slow down due to heavy traffic may incur extra time charge. To accuse the cabby for overcharging without giving a full fact and to lash out at the poor soul is simply unfair.

Two. To propose a GPS based metering system is a brilliant idea that can only come from a company out to bring the proposal to the government to make into law. Like the flashing light on speeding buses law. Come on. We already had too much regulation that was ill-thought and benefited only certain well-related companies. Please don’t promote another one because the cost will eventually end up hurting the consumers pocket without improving the system. In Seoul, all the taxis use GPS navigation but from my personal experience, they hardly know how to use them and we still can’t get to where we want to go. I don’t see our cabbies a better lot from them either.

The deejays may be part of the society intellectuals with no time and tolerance for the less fortunate and the bit of chaos and imperfection in the society. But it helps if they could ponder.

Taxi drivers are ordinary Malaysians who largely came from the lower income bracket of the society, from Government pensioners, ex policemen and soldiers; people who lead a proverbial ‘kais pagi makan pagi’ kind of living. They had to work doubly or even three times harder than most of us 8-hours a day workers without any benefit of EPF or SOCSO to bridge them in time of difficulty. The exorbitant daily rentals they had to pay the taxi companies, fuel, services and maintenance takes most of their earning away leaving little for children and family at home. See any rich taxi drivers? My point exactly.

If we, or if the deejays wants so much to champion a cause, like to address the issue of taxi service, try looking into their plight. Try highlighting the few who own hundreds of taxi permits, see how they live and compare with the real taxi drivers life. Do some arithmetic. See how far a taxi driver has to travel daily to just meet the rental. Maybe some intellectual in universities can research their life. And maybe some politicians can start championing their cause.

I can bet the radio deejays will chicken from talking about such subject.

Oh those days we were sick.

As I am writing this Alan is warded at KMC. His cough is getting so bad and so long now Yati is so worried. Mak said his batuk is ‘ggegor’ – shaking his body badly.


Other than that he’s fine. He still eat as much. In hospital he even walloped the ikan kembung masak sup air, something he never touch at home. Maybe its got to do with doctor’s order for him to lose at least 7kg.


On day one, he was supposed to have his blood taken for test. The first attempt by the nurses failed. He cried, screamed, struggled and acted like someone was going to amputate his arm. The nurse gave-up. ‘Ni mesti anak bongsu ni kak ye?’ she remarked.


So a couple of hour later I have to drag him to the lab. He kept questioning, ‘kenapa nak ambik darah Alan?, kenapa nak ambik banyak sangat?.’ To that I answered, ‘Nak buat test macam dalam CSI.’


‘Tak sakit, macam semut gigit je,’ the nurse said.


‘Sakitlah!. Macam seribu semut gigit,’ he retorted. The nurses giggled.


I wonder if all his tantrum was a sandiwara. In between his sob, and cries of ‘sakit, sakit’ he still managed to demand, ‘can I have my PSP?.’ What else can you say in such situation but ‘okay, whatever.’


Those years ago when we were sick and hospitalized, the most we can ask for was ‘anggur dalam tin.’ The bribery rate has certainly gone much higher.


Hmmm….. those were the days.

There is only Allah

And if indeed thou ask them who it is that sends down rain from the sky, and gives life thereafter to the earth after its death, they will certainly reply ‘Allah!’ Say, Alhamdulillah (praise be to Allah)!’ But most of them understand not. [Al-Ankabut 29:63}

We are in another predicament because Christians wants to call their god Allah. I mean they want to translate the word god to Allah. Some are fighting against it. Some ulama however have no problem with it. I am inclined with the later.

This is my view.

When we say our shahadah, we proclaim that there is no god but Allah. He is to us the only one God. So to me, to us Muslims there can only be one name for Him. That name is Allah.

What about the gods of others? The gods of the Christians, Jews, Hindus, Buddhists, Zorrostrians, Freethinkers, even atheists?

Their God is Allah. For there is no god but Allah. It doesn’t matter if they think or believe or taught that there are more than one god because the God remain one – Allah. It doesn’t matter if they call their gods Siva, Vishnu, Holy Spirit, Dewata Mulia Raya or whatever. Their gods can’t be the God, Allah.

That was what I believe what my ‘tok guru’ taught me.

So if they want to use the name of Allah for their god, well and good. Now they know, they acknowledge that only the name Allah is fit for God.

Imagine a non-muslim saying my god is Allah. He is finally agreeing to what our Prophet Mohammad had been saying more than fourteen hundred years ago. If fact Mohammad had only proclaimed what all the prophets were proclaiming since time immemorial. If they are now convinced that the god is Allah, what left is to convince them that Mohammad is the Prophet of Allah.

May as well I end this with Wallahualam (Only Allah is All Knowing)

Do we have to be made to cry.

Some few thousands people, decided to gather and march to protest against use of English as teaching medium for Mathematic and Science. Politics aside, they represent the voice of dissent and dissatisfaction crying loud across the country on an ill-thought policy.

Yes they were always two sides to it, those who support and those who are not. I speak English, my children too; but in the kampong we live in, children are struggling, parents are at a dead end.

Of course it was the ‘government’ decision, they can do it, they can force the rakyat to accept it. They can if they want do a Shih Huang Ti or Kamal Atarturk, burn all non-complying books, chop off the head of hard headed opposition and stand as a true leader, cruel or otherwise.

But in this state of affair the leader even lost their balls. Leadership is like non-existent.

Against the background, it was also a protest symbolic against the current state of leadership nihilism.

And so they march. The march and the voice were then met with a barrage of batons and tear gas.

It made many of us cry. Those who were in the line of fire. And those who can only watch from afar.

Yes those tears were for this beloved country.

But do they have to tear gas us to it?

Hanging on to faith

I wonder.

I wonder why is it every ten years or so, economic recession will come calling? And at the same ten years the political scene will be in a shamble? Why is it both the economic and political turmoil come every decade in pair like an evil twin?

I was still in school when the first recession in 76 came. The second ten years later in 85 to 86 was felt because I was a graduate and I had lost my job. It was such a bad year that architecture students in their fifth year couldn’t even find a place to do their practical. That was the time we had the Chow Kit incident, the UMNO Team A (Mahathir-Anuar) and Team B (Razaleigh-Musa) battle and the eventual pengharaman of UMNO.

Then again in 97, we had then the Asian Financial Crisis. Anuar was sacked from his DPM post after tasting the Pemangku Perdana Menteri seat for the few months Dr M was in Argentina horsing. I had then just started on my business and the rising interest was painful.

Now another crisis is visiting and we have our politicians busy quarreling.

Do they (politicians of opposing parties) secretly sit together someplace secret discussing ways and means to keep the rakyat attention away from the economic shambles? 'Hey, things are so bad on our side, can we start something messy? Let there be a little chaos. We'll send some of you to Kamunting, to make it look real.' Do they plan all these so that the rakyat are busy debating legal principles and power of the royalty. Anything so long it’s not economy? A placebo to numb the pain of those (hundreds of thousands of them) finding themselves unemployed or soon staring at the face of it?

I felt badly this time of economic uncertainty too. If a fortnight ago I felt all the confidence of bridging through this meltdown, now I felt unsure. The world economy has this time affected us directly. A fax to my office late evening two days ago put halt to everything I counted on to carry us through. I may be still putting up a brave face. I may still count on the strength of my faith. But I am also very afraid.

This is the time we should be putting the brain and the best part of our mind to work. To keep jobs, to keep paying salaries and to keep some dapur berasap (many a kitchen smoking).

I can only hang on to faith.

A note for friends in Perak

I am troubled.

I know I share this apprehension with friends all over Malaysia. Friends who felt that something is terribly wrong. The feeling that we are spiraling into political dumps. Where is democracy when the voice of the rakyat is meaningless; when power to rule can be decided by the few and forced down the throat of the masses.

I do not have the answer.

I seek solace in the knowledge that it is all temporary.

I find this much meaningful than any.

Say: "O Allah. Lord of Power (And Rule), Thou givest power to whom Thou pleasest, and Thou strippest off power from whom Thou pleasest: Thou enduest with honour whom Thou pleasest, and Thou bringest low whom Thou pleasest: In Thy hand is all good. Verily, over all things Thou hast power.

[Abdullah Yusuf Ali translation of ayat 3:26 Al-Imran]

Khir and Sarah wedding

Khir and Sarah marriage was solemnized at about 10pm 23^rd January 2009. The ijab and qabul by the bride's father recorded on Facebook for posterity. Never mind Khir's fumbling the first try. 'Ni ketar ni,' the bride's father said.

At reception at the mertua’s house the next day, Ayah was as usual reluctant to go up the dais to do the tepung tawar but he did eventually with some persuasion. Then somebody (I think it was Mad Leh) shouted from the crowd. ‘Ni menantu paling lama tunggu ni.’ Most who know, laughed. The family indeed had waited so long for this.

At 36, Khir managed to be the longest holding bachelor in the family. Over the years, no amount of persuasion could make him see any girls that family tried to introduce. To the point that the anak-anak sedara were so used with Khir’s standard answer to ‘Ayah Khir bila nak kawin? – esok’

And then suddenly the girl who walked in to his office walked right into his heart, as the father of the bride jokingly remarked, ‘masuk perangkap.’

To Khir and Sarah Anis Sulaiman, congratulation. May your marriage be blessed with happiness and many beautiful child.

And by the way, the anak-anak sedara is still discussing whether to call her Cik or Auntie.

Let me be TNB boss.

TNB has just announced a loss of 944 million ringgit.

I can only take a deep, very very deep breath and exhale slowly.

Years ago, Misbun Sidek was the hope of Malaysia at the All England. I can’t remember the year exactly but it must be in 82 because I was staying in Taman Melawati then. Those years, long before the advent of Astro, live telecast was only on radio. So we stayed up late for the hope that Misbun would do well. It was only the early round but all our hope was dashed because of his quick exit in straight set, garnering only a few points. So angry were we that we screamed in frustration.

‘Kalau nak bagi kalah 15-0 bagi aku wakil Malaysia lagi baik.’ (If its only to lose 15-0, better let me play for Malaysia), someone said. ‘Mung pandai ke main?’ (Do you know how to play?) I asked. ‘Kalau setakat kalah 15-0 aku main pun kalah 15-0’ (if it’s just to lose 15-0, I can get the same score) he retorted.

Today I said, let me be the CEO of TNB. I will surely make TNB lose as much. TNB can pay me just half or a quarter of what paid to Khaleb so I could make the loss slightly less.

Are they not fortunate? Those CEOs, I mean. Sitting in such posh offices, the cars, the first class travel, good hotels, huge salaries and they can be still drawing fat check even after the company losing hundreds of millions.

On the other hand, businessmen like us struggled to earn just enough every month to pay our staff salaries and when the collection fall short be the last and least to be paid.

If the whole point of business is to lose so much money, might as well let anyone be the CEO. Pok Mat, Pok Awang, Ah Leong or Mutu can be just as effective with so much smaller paycheck.

If I can take the place of Misbun to lose 15-0, surely I can take Khaleb’s place to lose 944 million.

Just let me be TNB boss.

Kalu dok menang gok saja sangatlah …..

Kalu dok menang gok saja sangatlah …..

Now is already the aftermath of a war. The police troops numbering six thousands (official figure) or twelve thousands (some claim) has gone home. The street is now starngely quiet. Even the party flags only recently waving proudly in the late monsoon gust are packed and stored for the next battle someplace else.

Last night when we drove around town (oops… Bandaraya), Yati remarked, ‘This is Kuala Terengganu that we knew.’

Perhaps as well Farah can now take off her ‘Ni Tranung ke Gaza’ notation on her Facebook wall.

I had refrained from making any comments on the election before the election. Too much has already been said and written.

But it was now over. PAS and Pakatan Rakyat winning it was only reinforcing the knowledge, hope and fear of many depending on which side of the divide they were.

I grew up in a fiercely parochial UMNO family. I watched and took pride in all UMNO winning the elections as early as my memory of attending the rapat umum during that historical first Barisan election. I remember Barisan (then both UMNO and PAS) bashing Kasim Ahmad on his poem of ‘tuhan sudah mati.’ I recall the impact of hate Utusan Malaysia created on the person of Tengku Razaleigh when he donned the tengkolok with what looked like a Christian’s cross in a Sabah campaign; with it igniting the fear of the Muslims, thus killing the hope of Semangat 46. I remember too the Lim Kok Wing led advertisement in the 1999 election, the advertorial in televisions, the full page picture of gnarling Lim Kit Siang, angry Anwar and ferocious Haji Hadi. Those were the days when newspaper played a major role in igniting the feeling of the masses.

But 1999 was also the turning point. With the extreme overkill, rakyat began to see and loath the popular media. I felt the same too. Oppositions saw the power of new media, the web and captured its potential to seriously challenge the establishment.

Sadly, Barisan’s campaign strategist in this is age of Youtube are still living in the cocoon of yesteryears. Internet has enabled anyone to check on any news to learn about what is exactly happening and what was truly said. Full text of statements, remarks and speeches can be downloaded to neutralize the venom of selective reporting. Body language can now be viewed and believed.

In those years, I recall my father (then a key UMNO campaigner) dashing everywhere to solve voters problem. Those who complain of not having electricity will have the tiang letrik put up almost immediately by then LLN. All for that important one vote. The actual power supply can wait till the next complain in the next election, if ever.

We now live in a much richer Malaysia. The election gifts are very much in practice albeit in grander scale. To UMNO, what is sadly happening is the negative impact it created. While a hundred contractor walked away happily with projects, the other seventy thousand nine hundred voters squirmed, ‘doh kita ni buleh mende?’ (so what do we get?)

In this KT by-election, the result was not really that bad. Thirty over thousands still for whatever reasons crossed the dacing. The cup can always be seen as half empty or half full.

The lost of Barisan was very much anticipated. Barisan though early on declaring themselves the underdog (so much for self esteem) did however put up a grand fight. Cost some say goes to a hundred million. It was of course a rumor but even a quarter of it is a serious amount of money.

A friend who came all the way from Kedah to help in the campaign (apart from ‘tunjuk muka’ and carrying a project envelop) drop by at 3 pm, on the election day, exhausted. ‘Dah kalah dah’ he said. ‘For that amount of money’ he said ‘Barisan should have worked out a magic.’ ‘What magic?’ I asked. ‘duit banyak ni tak payah teruk-teruk kempen. Hang bagi duit je kat pengundi suruh pangkah Barisan. Kalau hang bagi seribu sorang pun ada baki lagi dua puluh juta.’

Hahaha… we all laughed. A painful laugh.

That kind of sums up the mood in the run up to the big day. When asked ‘Barisan boleh menang ke dok?’ many simply answered, ‘kalu dok menang gok, saje sangatlah.

It is. Apparently

Funny

Funny.

Nye buleh lok ......

Problemlah gini......

Just can't get the posting online.

So by the time I figure it out, KT by-election will be long gone history....
Or those few write-up will be up together.....

Let see if this go through.

Once the spotlight dies.

As for the righteous, they will be in the Gardens and Springs. Taking joy in the things their Lord gives them, because before then, they lived a good live. They were in the habit of sleeping but little at night. And in the hour of early dawn, they (were found) praying for Forgiveness; And in their wealth and possessions (was remembered) the right of the needy, him who asked, and him who (for some reason) was prevented (from asking).
Al-Dariyat 51:15-19

Election is perhaps the best time to see the kind of thing one would do to be in the spotlight of the media. Kissing babies, transporting the sick in one’s gleaming car to hospital, visiting the poor and desolate, walking through mud and when one is backed by the power and wealth; distributing goodies in all forms – new road premix, new projects, new school halls and new everything that is thinkable. The other side, not to be outdone does the same only in a lesser way.

This is also the time when the poor and the needy is brought out to surface – kind of multiple episodes of ‘Bersama mu’ in fast forward. The poor now became the object of celebration.

I have hated the exploitation. I refused to attend ceremonies involving the poor walking up stage to receive assistance to the thunderous clap of the audience. I often do even if it is for good cause like charity and zakat. I hate watching some poor soul crying on the numerous television programs. What are we clapping about? I often asked. That they are poor?

I hate it even more, when it is done for votes.

Like always, once past the finish line they will be back to where they always are, forgotten. Perhaps until the next election.

I know I will never know, whether those care and concern shown were genuine but I want to believe that they are. All those act of love were sincere and straight from their heart.

But what am I in all that?

I hope that those images I saw of them around me will wake me up. Touch the softer side of my heart.

I hope I can be there with once the media spotlight dies.

The price of a chair.

How much is a chair?

Herman Miller’s Aeron Chair, designed by Don Chadwick my all time favourite (but can’t afford just yet) is RM 8K plus. Last year before the oil goes up price. The quote I get for Charles Eames good quality China mari reproduction is RM 3900. The same sold at X, is going at RM 12K. Italy mari? Hardly. Itay mari also nowadays China buat, Italy pergi, Malaysia mari.

A chair in parliament?

Is it comfortable to begin with? It doesn’t look too comfortable really, the backseat look too upright. But how much it cost really?

RM 400 million.

Ha..ha…

That’s only part payment mind you. The fact that Terengganu got back the royalty just before the KT by-election make it the outright price to pay, it seems.

Right? Wrong? Maybe?

Oh, whatever.

After such a high price, is the chair truly worth it?

Again, is it comfortable to begin with?

You and me, the common among the ordinary may just never find out. But then again who knows. With some among our chosen MPs dozing off soundly, it just can’t be but comfy.

New year, happenings and resolutions.

In 1995, the first of Muharram, came on the first day of June. That was the day I officially dated the start of my company. On that date it moved to its own rented office from a little corner in a rented house in Kubang Ikan.

Muharram 0f 1430 Hijriah came close to January 1, 2009. We are now in our own building. I look back to those many struggling years and I could not help smiling.

Even after these many years I am still struggling.

That’s a fact of life.

The weather in Kuala Terengganu is gloomy. It‘s been dark and raining since late October and may well continue till Chap Goh Mei.

And everything else is not much cheerful either.

The economy is bad and getting even worse. Good thing they cut the interest rate by 0.25 percent though it makes no impact on the bottom line. Knowing banks, the sunny day friends, they will jack up the rate to cover for the loss later. Petrol too was down but nothing follows. And Air Asia doing without the fuel surcharge helps lessen the flight bills for frequent traveler like myself.

I’m getting more job applications. Friends say some friends are now struggling to pay salaries. Well I have been like that like forever. But unlike some of them, I don’t have the Mercs or Beemers to pay yet.

The P-36 Kuala Terengganu by-election is coming.

And so are DPM, ministers, wanita, pemuda and puteris. Along Jalan Sultan Mahmud, the puteris has just turned a listless home-stay into a pink carnival. The giant dacings and the red and white keris flags now dominate. The moon on the green flags will be coming soon. When? I’m not sure.

There is now many-many more policemen on the street. We have three makeshift pondok polis at both ends of our street including one right in-front of the office. And a MBKT signboard next to my gate proclaiming ‘KAWASAN LARANGAN’ – talk about feeling safe.

Yes I do want to feel safe. The bridge near my office has been the scene of many ‘war’ between PAS and UMNO – fighting to put up their flags every elections. Stupid fools. Can’t they just be game about everything? Take a side of the bridge each, put all the flags they can hoist. Have fun, have a few shouting match across the divider then go away for a cup of coffee.

Talk about feeling safe.

I wish there were that many policemen (some say six thousands) as for this election as when thief broke into my car in Gombak and Shah Alam. I wish that many make shift pondok could be put up on street where murderous snatch thieves and break-ins were rampant. Some wish!

Suddenly, KT is no longer the quiet town it has always been. The home-stay signboard seems to sprout like some ‘cendawan selepas hujan.’ And friends are calling for a place to stay. ‘Helping in the campaign’ they say. ‘Tunjuk muka’, says other. ‘Sambil-sambil lobi projek’, they add. The need for temporary lodges has pushed up the rental rates. Some were offered as much as 5 to 6K per house for a month. With some catch of course, half is for the broker….. some wanita. Wonder if the Kak Fida know about these ground level fleecing.

I’ll be 46 in a matter of days. And I m quite tired. So I made a resolution to take things a little easier and make it easier to my architects too. I’ll take in more people to look after the newer works so we can all breathe a little and continue going home after five thirty. That means more money to pay salaries every months but that’s the price I would gladly pay. I still have faith that for everyone of them their rezeki has already been destined their way.

And I’ll hold on to that Merc order for a while too ………

Of derak and doktong

I am aware of doktong, it’s Terengganu word for bertandang or short visit to neighbor’s house though not necessarily in a positive tinge. We don’t use the word melawat or n’awak (not n’awok – careful with the pronunciation) because it is normally used to mean paying last respect.

Che’ Mang tak dok dumoh, ye gi n’awak orang mati, arwoh Aji Usok laki Aji Yang. (Encik Man is not at home, he went to pay his last respect to the late Haji Yusof, husband of Hajjah Mariam)

The word doktong is normally used in anger or in spite.

Tu lah mung, ari-ari gi doktong rumoh Jaroh. Nasi laki mung pong mung dok nanok. (That’s so you, everyday dropping in at Zaharah’s house. You don’t even cook for your husband.)

D’erak is also about visiting. Funny I only learn of the word this Raya, in Salwa’s skype message. It (according to Shida) means visiting – a day long, ‘sapa garek’ (right up to Maghrib) hopping from one house to another.

Kita orang KL ni, kalu balik Raya sariang gi derak jelah. Dokleh dok dumoh, sedara mara rama nok kena jupe. (We KLite’s. when back for Raya, will be visiting a whole day long. Can’t stay home with all the relatives to visit)

And so, with all the people berderak at my house, we just can’t go doktong etek.

But it’s been a wonderful Raya.

ps
Happy 47th Birthday to Along. Thanks for always being the 'big' sister.

This raya that was

This Raya will go a long way in our memory, to me and Yati.

It began on a slow note on Day One with only us, the singles, Ajik and Along’s family.

Then Day Two hit with a bang. Full quorum but for Amanda.

The living room of Aki’s house was packed to the brim. The duit raya giving session turned so noisy it’s like a pasar borong. For the day and night dining, lucky we had the ‘khemah’ installed all along since Ramadan.

For me, this Raya began two days before. We took the long trip down to Kemasek. Something I had not done for years lately. Fifteen years ago, when I came back to Terengganu, I made the annual trip to personally hand over the zakat and raya goodies to the deserving. Then they were like 30 of them. Now after like seven-eight years hiatus, only with Ayah standing in as my wakil, they were only a dozen or so deserving people left. Many has passed away. Their once homes dilapidated and empty.

I took this trip to show my children once again what was once their father’s kampong, Mak Wan’s house – where I was born, the beach and Kuala Kemasek.

Funny enough they, Alia especially, remember so well the gerai goreng pisang that Ayah Khir ‘langgor’ some years ago. And Alan parrotting her as though he was there when he was only born years later.

Day Three. The family bowling tournament. Soon to be made an annual raya event. The most unlikely strike coming from Along beating even Julian ... Ha..ha.

And 'longkang' champ - Noyoo. Seems like everyone ended with something to brag about that day.

The finale must be Khir’s engagement to Sarah on Day Four. A first of its kind of reception because I was then forced to be the ‘jurucakap’ – that kind of put me in the 'orang tua-tua' bracket now. Lucky the other side made it really easy.

At least I didn’t have to recite any pantun or bermadah. Like some that was proposed …

Naik jambatan Pulau Pinang
Kami datang nak meminang.

In case it may be needed someday, now with twenty-two and counting anak-anak sedara growing so fast, think I better start practicing now.

To Yati, for all the staying up late getting the food and the house ready for the next day for several days, your tireless single effort to keep everyone fed (not to mention the endless request for mushroom soup, nuggets, sausages and maggie goreng) despite the usual raya fare on the table all day long, all the while keeping yourself looking radiant and beautiful, and your sheer exhaustion at the end of each day, you have been remarkably wonderful.

To all that made this raya so memorable, thank you.

Lost shoe and broken windshield

I chided Alia when she asked, ‘kasut ayah kena curi kat masjid ke?’

No. ‘Kena curi’ was not a right word I would use especially if it happened at mosques. I would rather consider it mis-taken – by someone whose need was greater than mine. Or I could have misplaced them among the thousand pairs of shoes.

One Friday at UIA mosque, I recall Yat laughing at me seeing me walking bare footed fully dressed with a tie-on. Without shoes, I had to cancel my appointment at UIA that day.

In another incident, one Friday at Masjid Batu Caves my borrowed car was broken, my briefcase gone. That wasn’t so painful. What painful was the reporting and the long ‘interrogation’ by the IO. Another hour I would have shouted, ‘hell, I broke my own car and stole my own thing.’ Worst, they told me, ‘biasalah tu Encik, boleh kata setiap Jumaat kereta kena pecah kat situ, hari ni saja ada tiga.’ Darn! So often? What have they been doing? Compiling statistic?

Another time at Surau Seksyen 9 Shah Alam after the Fajr prayer, I discovered my Carnival passenger window neatly smashed. Gone were my wallet and all. Careless of me thinking that nothing could happen during the short prayer time. After the Batu Caves, I could then laugh when the IO asked me over the phone, ‘Encik ada gantung baju dalam kereta tak?

A short distance from Simpang Empat Kemasek, is a new Balai Polis. Once, it was only a wooden pondok polis with two wooden barrack at the back. I remember only one mata-mata, Pok Long Polis, as we dearly call him going round the village on his bicycle. Crime then was unheard of but for the petty case of curi telor ayam come funfair season.

Well, there was one murder in Kemasek in that many years. The golok fight under the tembesu tree at the bridge near Bukit Rimau Menangis. Last time I checked, the tembesu tree still standing. That will be good for another ghost story.

Compare that to the insecurity we now feel as we walk on the street or while sleeping at night. I wish now I can respect the crime prevention today as I had respected Pok Long Polis back then.

Alas, time has changed.

But then we had neither cars worth breaking into, nor shoes worth stealing too.

So what do you remember of Kemasek most?

Kemasek.

The one little village on the way from Kuala Terengganu to Kuala Lumpur.

Once our home. Now not even a stop.
Not if not for the time traffic light turned red at Simpang Empat.

A quick glance.

There was once the Balairaya where we chased spiders underneath while Mak was busy showing off her cooking skill during WI meet. Or when Ayah had his gathering of Persatuan Belia Angkatan Tenaga Muda or Red Cross assembly. No more the Pusat Pemeriksaan Jabatan Hutan that Ayah Su and Che Su used to stay a while. Nor is the field where we had the election campaigns or the wayang penerangan.

On the Pasaraya site, once stood some of the finer houses of Kemasek, among them the house of Awang Hitam the Juragan and Che Ngah Dayang - oh her nasi dagang kelosong daun pisang. The old mahkamah however is still there, on the hill behind the post office, shrouded by the much bigger trees that I once remember, haunted some says, always a mystery. That’s one place I don’t recall going. Not even in the craziest of time.

N’akut gok sebenornya.

At the very simpang, I recall once we the school children were made to line the street in the scorching sun, to wave flags and shout ‘Daulat Tuanku’ when the then outgoing King was returning. I remember too very clearly that the black Rolls Royce simply whizzed by and we were like looking left, right and then that’s it.

And then there are many more.

But what is it that you remember?

CEO blog

Hey, I should have my own CEO blog. I wonder sometimes if I should.

Afterall I m a Chief Executive Officer too even if I never had such title on my call card. I am a chief that execute my own work and an officer though I don’t work for anyone now. Clients notwithstanding of course. Having to work and look after 50 plus staff should’ve made me one I think. It wasn’t a small establishment too at some point come to think of it.

Now that Tony of Air Asia has a blog, other CEO s would soon be itching to blog too; just like the politicians post 08 election. And let us see who has the patience to keep writing.

Of course, at any scale, my business is a speck compared to Air Asia. I don’t owe banks as much as they do too… ha..ha… and if wealth is measured in the positive and negatives in bank balance my loan nowhere as big I think I’m richer.

But Pak Mat and Pak Awang too are wealthier than me. Anytime. They are debt free when I’ve a few million in the negatives. So much ha?

Well, maybe I should.

Who cares?

After all it’s all about writing. Not really about anyone reading it.