Thursday 30 December 2010

..I beg your pardon..




..I used to tell my children that you cannot live on love and fresh air alone..you will need rice..and powdered milk..you cannot simply say to the grocer to supply you with rice and milk on the strength of your love..no, he would want something more tangible..like hard cash..children this days are always in a hurry..but in a time of instantaneous delivery, how not to blame them?..we sat a pace that scorches the asphalt..and we told them to slow down, to hold on..

..as in marriages..you got to work to get that rose garden going..what more if you marry with you heart..against parental advice..unlike the song by the Beatles, some things just could not be work out. for 'love grows old and waxes cold'...and when it faded away, you are left with your spoils of war..namely two precocious and innocent kids.. and when you came with them trailing, what is a father and grandfather to say or do..?..except to take them into his arms and try not to see the tears welling in your eyes?...

..I wished I could say, I told you so..but I could not..marriage is one big, unending learning curve, girl....but if it is against a wall that you have backed yourself into...then, maybe, it is time you fight back...

Friday 24 December 2010

..a playground no more..

..kl has changed since the last decade..of course, it is not anymore the playground of my unbridled youth...the spirit and passion of the sixties are gone..along with Sudirman and Chow Kit Road...but I made a vain stop at Chow Kit, trying to rekindle past flames..and discovered that the language of Chow Kit is gone..every one that I talked to is an Indonesian...




..I took a walk along a little lane of my memory and found myself in front of Globe Silk Store..it is a far cry from its glorious era of the sixties..then, any self-respecting Kelantanese's trip to KL was not complete without shopping at the store..but one feature remains..a couple with impaired sight bashing it out on keyboards..this  time it is Roslan and friend, Mona...semut merah is in their repertoire..




..but I did not sing along with them..I have lost the abandonment of my youth..things are calculated and measured now..kl, the city, is no longer for me..as I made my way around keramat and kampung baru, I did see the young man in me..foraging the streets..but it is for my children the city awaits...



Sunday 12 December 2010

..the weather, hypermarkets and stuffs..

..the only thing predictable about the weather these days, is that it will rain..as this morning.. at about ten the clouds cleared and the sun burst through with all its glory and splendour..Kee-Ra, the monkey, peered through his hut and ran rings within his chain...as Mekbu's litter of four scampered and frolicked in the poor excuse of a garden, the wife contemplated a trip to Pasir Mas and Kota Bharu after Jumaat's solat..I agreed..I need to perk up my spirits a bit...and the children were restless..with the exams over, Auji is on the rebound with excess energy..

..but as we headed out of Bachok just after two in the afternoon, the western sky darkened...by the time we made Kubang Kerian the sky opened up..the rain came in heavy pellets that pounded on the roof of cars...but the perky DJ on Radio Era kept our spirits up...

..we intend to hop hypermarkets, and we did..after a short trip to Bunut Susu, Pasir Mas, where the missus checked up on her catfish investment...I worry for her, it was against my advice..but so far she is getting her returns...

..first stop, Tesco, for Asr's solat..and to replenish my supply of Soups in a Mug..Tesco is number one in my list of preference..it has ample parking.. covered and free....with the suraus, one at each level, spacious and clean..

..but the surau in KB Mall is a letdown..it has limited space and difficult  to access, being on the roof..the basement parking is ok, with the roof parking a wee bit risky..Auji wanted to get some skins and paraphelia for her netbook and I wanted to pick up an android phone ordered earlier..missus got herself a pair of slippers..

..solat Magrib was at Mydin Hypermarket, Kubang Kerian..where you have to pay for parking wtihin its vincity and a beautiful surau next to it has the pipes built low, a few inches above ground, more suitable for mini-midgets than an old coot like me..we had mee sizzling at the foodcourt..a son-in-law was the cook..and it was delicious..

.. it was just a slight drizzle when we were finally done and headed back for Bachok..by the time we reached home at almost 11.00 pm the rain stopped....as the kids hurried in, I sauntered outside and took in the cool air..I looked up through the darkness and saw a constellation of stars..and saw an old friend peering down upon me.. the Big Dipper,  flickered through wisps of light, slivery clouds..

...hi, friend..how many before me looked up to you for guidance?..and how many after me will looked up to you in wonderment?...yours is eternity..while mine is drawing its end..

Tuesday 7 December 2010

..a procrastinator, that's me..

..he who procrastinate is a thief of time..an Arab saying that I got from Dato' AKJ's blog..whose blog I surfed early in the morning on the !st of  Muharam, 1432..

...in a way, I have always been a thief..for I just loved to postpone things, even during my governmental days..I thought I  worked well under pressure..but it was an illusion, of course..an excuse to put off things until the very last minute..procrastinators, I soon learned, will do anything just so they can avoid doing what they are supposed to do..like in these video..



..so it was that when things turned a lil bit sour with my third wife, I turned on the delaying tactics.. not really addressing the issues at hand..hoping that it would blow over in time..but nothing blows over if you do not face it squarely....I did everything but faced it..she got mad and asked me to divorce her through the phone..which prompted me to do something right for once..I prayed two rakaat of special solat...it calmed me..and later I told her in a measured voice that as we did not marry through the phone, there is no reason why we should  end it through one..video-call or otherwise..it must have calmed her a bit as she brought down her tone...

..the next day I submitted the relevant divorce papers ...a month later we walked up the stairs of the Kadi's Office together, where a solemn face Syariah Officer bore witness as I pronounced I, pakmat, hereby divorce thee with one talak..

..salam Muharam, everyone..

..

Sunday 5 December 2010

..my first car..

.
..my first car was a 1968 Toyota Corolla..bought in late 1973..I just got married a few months earlier and she was into her 20th week of pregnancy with our first child....means of transport then was a Yamaha 110 cc which I used to send her to school 6 kilometers away from home, a rented house in Lorong Tok Gading, Kota Bharu...

..riding a bike whilst pregnant is bad for health, a friend said, and he loaned me RM1,500 for the down payment to purchase a car..I went along with him, the late Dato Nan Rahimi bin Sulaiman, to choose the model...some friends will go out of their way just to make your life comfortable..

..the first day I  brought home the car, I did not see my mother-in-law walking by..I just got my license then, and was driving by the rules..but I mastered it soon enough and was able to ferry my wife around without much problem..

..it was a simple car, actually..easy to maintain and reliable..there was so much space under the hood that I could wrapped my arms around the engine block...so was my life then..simple and easy to maintain..until, of course, years later, seven children later, when I turned up the dust and dirt....but, then, by then, even cars got complicated...

Wednesday 1 December 2010

Saturday 27 November 2010

..end of year blues..

...I have slowed down on blogging lately....I could feel the lethargy seeping in, much against myself....there is something niggling at the back of mind which I just could not put my finger to...calls from my ex does not help much..or calls to my children..maybe it is this time of the year..and a receding year has a way of putting you into doldrums..for you tend  to measure yourself against the year before..and the years before...and realised that as the years piled up, there isn't much that you have achieved..intellectually speaking, that is....about the most positive thing that I have done was when I quit smoking 6 years ago..other than that I could see that my horizon has not widened much..

..maybe it is the weather..they say negative ions after rain should give you a lift..maybe I need to lift my face..but, no..I have come to terms with aging....

..I think it was watching Paul Anka singing with his daughter, Anthea, that did it..I used to Youtubed him for the nostalgia...remembering the pangs of unrequited puppy loves with the likes of 'Put Your Head on My Shoulder' and 'Lonely Boy'..but watching him sing 'Yo Te Amo' Do I Love You stirred strange and unfathomable emotions in this old coot....

.,.with a brand new year looming, I am missing my past..




..happy year end holidays everyone..perchance we are there together as the new year comes in, as surely it will...here's an early Happy New Year wish from me..life goes on unabated..as surely it must..take this time to  kiss that flower..plant a tree..hug your love ones..forgive a wrong..do something crazy..and tell that  someone..'I love you...'

Tuesday 23 November 2010

..collateral damage..

..war, as in divorce, has its casualties..most times the casualties are the innocents..the Americans, seeking refuge under euphemism, called it collateral damage..a nice, impersonal term for lives lost..lives that are not factored when those precision missiles somehow killed innocents..

..but there are no precision in a divorce..and like wars, divorces sometime happened..whether acrimonious or otherwise, collateral damage in a divorce are always the children..and a society quick to condemn which does not help any one bit..every little thing that the children does after the big D is magnified, with an accusing finger pointed at the father..if their grades fall, its the father..if they took to smoking, its the father..even if they had a mishap with their bicycle on the way back from school, its knowing looks and mutterings ..their father just divorced their mother..

..homes that broke down results in broken down children..it is what we come to expect from such children..society  expects them to..it is as if all social ills are because fathers such as me, divorced their wives..we are quick at generalizing..all those mat rempits came from broken down homes.,.sheesh..

..but I know that fathers can still play a role after a divorce..it is a matter of minimising the damage..it is a matter of giving him a chance  to control..and damage control is through being near..being around..and an acceptance of the situation, especially by their mother..for children reacts to their mother's reactions..restricting access to their father is not the way..neither is the blame-game..yes, I am guilty as charge..but where does  it leaves things?..

Thursday 18 November 2010

....a time to sacrifice..a time to remember the departed..

..during festivals we remember the dead..as usual, after the solat aidil-adha, the jumaah, the congregation will make a bee-line for the graveyard adjacent to the mosque..as my children gathered with their mother around their grandfather's plot, I sat back a little, taking in the scene...

.."we bid thee  peace..oh, ye of the grave..God willing we will follow thee...soon"...

..I sat there on the wakaf as I try to remember those near and afar who have departed before me..

..images of the dead  flashes through my mind..except for my father, Hamid bin Daud, who died a few months after I was conceived in early 1945...he died during an unsettling time, when the country was occupied by the Japanese..and there were no pictures of him...

..but images of others who were once dear to me were clear and true..my grandfather, Sulong bin Lassim, who died more than 40 years ago..he was about the only grandfather that I ever knew..I remember his fondness for ikan haruan and other such fishes found in abundance in padi fields around the house in Kubang Kerian..

..my mother Che Minah bt Sulong, who died 14 years ago in 1996..my son, Amnan Fahim, 20 years ago, 40 days after he was born..my uncle, Zakaria bin Sulong, more than 30 years  ago, of a heart attack at the airport, after stopping by my house in Jalan Pengkalan Chepa..he was the uncle who took me in, treated me like his own son, and threw a shoe at me for too much playing around instead of concentrating on my studies..another uncle Zainal Abidin bin Sulong, a few months ago..

..and friends..friends who once shared their last kopek with me..who helped me in time of need..and gave ungrudgingly..friends who shared the dingy, concrete floor of a room in Kuala Lumpur..who died before me..

..images of them came back to me as I sat there on the wakaf on the morning of Aidil Adha...may the Lord shower His Blessings upon them...may the Lord forgive all of their sins...may they be taken in and placed among those who were with iman..in Your Syurga Firdaus..Your Garden of Edin..

..amin.....

Sunday 14 November 2010

..men hunt..


..I gave in to that primordial urge found in every men yesterday..the urge to hunt..it was more instinct that anything else, this need to stalk with a gun in hand..and trying to outwit your prey..I supposed, in a way, I have always been a hunter..using skills learned as a kid with a catapult..but a gun in hand gave you power..and a sense of control..nothing settles a man more than when he is hunting..maybe I am linking back to the Pleistocene era..when men are hunters..and hunt in order to mate..



..but yesterday it was a good excuse to get out of the house..to take in the fresh air..work out a sweat and bond with the villagers..it was harvesting time..padi planted from scattering of seeds and harvested with a machine that munched through ripe padi-stalks and shoo-ed the birds away..


..but there was nothing to shoot yesterday..and I went home without firing a single shot..




..but life is like that...you stalked around, gun at ready...and there's nothing to shoot..the next day you are without your gun, they came and wiggle their tails...

Friday 12 November 2010

..the monsoon and the cup in Bachok..

..almost on cue, the rain stopped this Friday morning..the clouds cleared, making way for the sun.....as housewives took out their washings to dry, pakmat gave his thanks to the Lord..yes, its gonna be a beautiful day..a glorious day for the Cup to make its first ever appearance in Bachok..and what better place if not at Dataran Perahu, Pantai Irama, Bachok?..


..the Cup arrived and history was made..


  



..pakmat with the big man himself..he was amused..whilst attention
was focussed on the players and the cup, this old coot singled
him out, shook his hands and have daughter Auji took this pic..

  

..auji and her mother..getting a ringside view..
..Rizal Hashim of Loose Canon was right...among reasons he chose Kelantan to win:

1. Sebagai hadiah buat majoriti penyokong Kelantan yang ghairah tapi sopan dan tertib.
2. Sebagai hadiah buat Tan Sri Annuar Musa yang membawa transformasi luar dan dalam padang.
3. Alah, NS dah menang tahun lepas, bagi chance la kat Kelantan.
4. Sebagai hadiah buat B. Sathianathan, atau ejaan sebenarnya B. Satiananthan...kerana selepas ini dia akan digantung enam bulan!
5. Sebagai hadiah buat Akmal Rizal Ahmad Rakhli yang tak pernah menang gelaran besar sepanjang kerjaya
6. Kesan ekonomi buat negeri Cik Siti Wan Kembang serta menghidupkan pembangunan bola sepak di akar umbi.


..right on, LC..I was not there at the Stadium..but I was there this morning at Pantai Irama..the crowd was by far small, compared to that in Bukit Jalil the night Kelantan won..but this morning, I could feel the passion..for in the words of KAFA.s president..through sports, no matter the divide, we are united..and Kelantan has proven that their supporters make their team into...the red warriors.....

Thursday 11 November 2010

..age and weights..

..I have gained some weight lately..5 kilos..not since my polygamous days have I put on so much...polygamy kept me trim and slim..and lithe...all those running around burnt those calories..my girth has increased, too,  by an inch..from a constant 29 inches to 30..the missus likes it..got some extra flesh to hold and hug, she says..

..retirement, monogamy and blogging must have agreed with me..my 60 kilos against her 70..pushing past 50, she needs to go on a diet..but there was a time when she was rake-thin..that was when she discovered that I had taken on another wife in the city of KL, a girl of 26 whom I had married at 50..my final fling, and last attempt, at keeping growing old at bay..

..it does not work, of course..but the wife revolted  when she found out..having married a married man herself, she could say much then..as she did not say much now..but she lost weight through self-suppression of her inner revolt..there were no flying pans and pots..no shrieks and screams..no shamans and no bomohs..just tears that flowed silently as she prayed her five times a day solat...tears that fell in the silent of the night as she prayed a few hours before dawn..I used to watch her through the half-light of a waning moon that caressed and enveloped her..a figure in white, almost ghostly as the moon streamed its light through the translucent window...

..but the next morning, I would just packed by travelling bag with a few clothes and left for KL..invariably, she would be in the kitchen..at the kitchen door, watching me go...

..gi dulu, cik....the driver would say..she would try to muster a smile..not quite looking at him, as we drove past..

Saturday 6 November 2010

..the monsoon and the cup..


..for the first time ever, Kelantan won the Malaysia Cup..we never won it during those heady days when Singapore was a participant, when Kelantan and Terengganu were arch rivals, or when Malaysia ruled the turf with the likes of Mokhtar Dahari and Soh Chin Aun..we never won it  when I was that carefree youth shouting myself hoarse as Dali Omar took to the field with aplomb, and my butt burnt from the hot concrete seat of Stadium Sultan Mohamed the IV drenched hot by the afternoon sun as the game started at 4.30 pm..

...we won it when this old geezer had given up of Kelantan ever winning the cup..we won it when I have become an old horse left to roam free in the meadows..with no more spring in his trot, and with just a memory of the fire that burns in every staunch and fervent a supporter's heart  that he still is..

.the next day, it rained..the skys darkened with black clouds hiding the sun..the rain came along with howling wind and cold..it is like as if the final that Saturday night was the turning point for the monsoon to start..



,,the view in front of pakmat's home..




..for mekbu, it is time to nestle her litter of 4..


...Trengganu may have the Monsoon Cup..but we have the monsoon and the cup..cheers to the red warriors..

Friday 29 October 2010

..the many ways of blindness..



..after a while we reached a stage where there is nothing to quarrel about..things just settled into an agreement, acquiescence..any perceived aberrations elicit no protests..life is routine and humdrum..there is a perpetual calm in the sea..and, sometimes, at odd moments when I am alone with my thoughts, I missed my polygamous mayhem days..when the mind was almost always in overdrive..countering arguments..driving in my misguided points..and the left foot pressed on the accelerator, taking corners with squeals and a rush..

..and as I wrote this, I glanced at my wife who is snoring peacefully in bed..she was once my second wife..whom society would normally tabbed as the home-wrecker..emissaries sent to discover the type of girl she was that pakmat was so taken up marrying must have been a bit taken back when they met her..just a simple village girl, comfortable in kurung and sarong..hardly the sex-siren that they thought she was, measuring against my gallavanting ways..but we married properly..properly in the sense that I followed procedures, filled in the proper forms and went through interviews by the kadi's office..

..extract from pakmat's interview..
...officer from kadi's office:..hmm, I see that pakmat already had a wife, children, and good salary..
..pakmat: silence..
..ofko: ..so.....why this need for polygamy?..
..pakmat: silence..

..from wife..
..ofko:...hmm..do you know he is already married?
..wife: I know..
..ofko: and you still want to marry him?
..wife: yes..

..her late father..

..ofko: ..do you know that your daughter will be marrying a married man?..
..father: yes..
..ofko..you have no objection?
..father: she is the one marrying..not me..
..ofko: silence..

..we married a week later..and the peaceful sea knew no more the calm. there is no end to man's fascination with pain....

Monday 25 October 2010

..I am not a so-po..just a so, so..


..and I hope whoever wins in Galas will give 
a thought to the environment..
I think its about time the yellow river of Kelantan 
take on the hue of a river it once was..
..it has suffered for more than two decades..
..most of my children could not remember it being anything else
except yellow..

..pic from TheStar..the river cruise that was no more..
..who would pay to cruise on a muddy river?


pic taken without permission from
..fishing for non-existence fish,,


Saturday 23 October 2010

..a time for living..a time for dying..a time to change my cell phone..

..yesterday Ayam, still in Ramadan mode,  woke me up two hours before dawn...she followed me as I staggered to the kitchen for her pre-dawn meal..10 minutes later as I pushed the window to let her out, I saw the silvery moon through the trees low in the western sky..caressed by a light breeze, I sat still for a second..no..it is not 'thank God its Friday..instead it is 'thank you God, for extending my time on this earth for one more day...

..as I started the car I heard the muezzin's call to prayers..its 5.45 am..a movement caught my eye..it was Mekbu..and she had just delivered a litter of 4 kittens..I stroked her and gave her words of encouragement..by the time I reached the mosque the congregation was already well into the first rakaat..but its ok..its a Friday..sujud sejadah..prostration on the prayer mat whilst in solat...and was told by the imam that Ayah Mat, 76, who lived across the river from my house, but just across the road from the mosque, had died of heart failure..solat jenazah, prayers for the decease, was scheduled after solat Asr..

..later, late in the morning, the downcast sky cleared as we headed for Kota Bharu, my wife and I..it is becoming  almost a weekly ritual, this weekly trips..but I need to buy a new phone..my trusty Sony Ericsson K801 had finally laid down its tired keys..after two years of faithful service, it gave up on the run.. time to get a new phone..my children sighed a sigh of relief...they called it the dinosaur phone..papa's dino phone, not quite realising the implication..I smiled..I got myself a Nokia C5..it came with an English lady telling me to take the corners 300 meters ahead, left or right..and Auji is in love with it

..yes, it was an eventful Friday for pakmat..thank you, Lord...

Tuesday 19 October 2010

..scenes of a night market..

..scenes from the weekly night market, set along Pantai Irama, Bachok..
..every Friday from 5.00 pm to 10.00 pm..with the sea as backdrop..
..children romping by the water edge..
..horses galloping by..and a para-glider whizzing above..









..but for this man with impaired sight..time to set up his keyboard..
..pakmat slipped him a ringgit and requested the song 'Aku Semut Merah',
a dangdut pakmat's era..he looked confused..he was much younger than I thought..
..he did not know the song..he belted out a nasyid, instead..

remembering the time when he accompanied her with some friends at Globe Silk Store, along 
Jalan Tuanku Abdul Rahman..he loitered outside..
there were two of them with their keyboard and bongos..
..it was mainly dangdut..he donned his sunglasses and sang along with them..

'..untuk apa kau menyayangi ku..
..orang yang tak punya apa apa..' 

..and got a ringgit or two thrown his way...


Sunday 17 October 2010

..Michele Yeoh, aging and death..

..I am not one of her ardent fans..but I have been watching her long before Crouching Tiger..she is an Ipoh girl, after all..and we know what they say of Ipoh girls...indubitably fair and smooth of skin, and pretty of face with figures to die for..I can rave on about her exploits, being an A-class actress and an international campaigner that she is..but last August, she was 48 years old..and she does not look it..known for doing her own stunts, she is out with a new movie, Reign of Assassins, by John Woo

pics taken from www.starpulse.com
and www.micheleyeoh.info

..she also said that there are two things guaranteed in life..one, you will age...two, you will die..

..she must have said it simply to the reporter who interviewed her about her beauty belying her age..and pakmat said, yes, Dato', you will age, as pakmat has undoubtedly aged..and one day you will die..as pakmat will one day, dies..but you have proven that a local girl from a tin-mining town of Ipoh, can danced and kicked into internatonal stardom and be there with the rest of them..and to that, pakmat salutes you...

Thursday 14 October 2010

..I'll be all smiles tonight..

..an 1879 Irish waltz for a relaxing Friday..listening to it  reminds this old coot of the time he waltzes the night away as a bachelor in KL..



..and for some of you, enjoy your 'malam Jumaat'..:)  ..let's us all be all smiles tonight...

Wednesday 13 October 2010

..the house where mother stayed..

..not all buildings are pulled down to make way for the new..some are left standing, unattended and forgotten..fading by inches and worn down by the rain and the sun ...corroding gently by gentle time that passes like the relentless flow of the river, where upon its banks it sits..


..no.833, Lorong Gajah Mati is such a house. a house sitting forlorn and alone, hidden by fences and undergrowth, ignored by its neighbours..and forgotten by me, who once stayed there.. it sat by the bank of  Kelantan River..facing death as death comes in stealthy steps..crumbling in little pieces, yet still holding onto memories of a time 40 over years ago..

..and as I stood there on Sunday afternoon, taking in the battered remnants of what was once a house, I was that sapling youth once more, coming back home to my mother..



..it was a house on stilts almost 7 feet high..she peered through her glasses and through the window where she was sewing when he first arrived, huffing and puffing a suitcase full of clothes and books..he rested at the stairs..after almost 20 years, her youngest son, Mamat returned..to a home which was not hers..but for the next couple of years, it was to be his home, too..

..now, 40 over years later, I stood there upon a Sunday afternoon..I saw her face through the window..and I saw mine clambering excitedly up the steps..

..she died 14 years ago..I stood there facing the stairs..and I heard her voice as I kick started my Vespa..

..'Mat...mu make doh ko ?..duk du moh getek gah...:'..as she pedalled on her Singer..Mat, have you eaten?.. can't you stay home once in a while ...as I rode away through the lane of Gajah Mati...



Sunday 10 October 2010

..an uncle died..

..an uncle died today..he was 77..born 3.3.33 and died 10.10.10..
as an adult I seldom meet him, busy with my own life, as it were....memories of him were confined to the time when I was a kid..the first time I went to his house was with my mother.. I was about nine or ten..it was also my first time to KL..as my mother was engrossed in a conversation with him., I was left on my own, playing around with a sewing machine set in a corner..I broke it and  had my ear pinched..

..I remember him as a simple man..on my own in KL, struggling as a clerk, I would sometimes visited him at his sprawling government quarters..once I caught him as he was going out..holding a pair of shoes, he was searching for something under the furniture..retrieved it, (it was a pair of socks), wiped his shoes with it, put it on and stride out whilst talking to me.."Ahh. Mat Ite..duklah..nak tubit semetar.."

"O Allah, forgive him, Lord. Make him among the guided ones, raise his status and be his deputy among the grieving. O Lord of the two worlds, forgive us and him and make his grave wide and full of light"

Saturday 9 October 2010

..MCP and firecraker..

..a lil bit of country for a lazy weekend..click on play..tap your feet..snap your fingers as you read the post below..




..and thank God for the differences..

..MCP, and thank God for the differences..

..you don't often hear the term 'male chauvinist pig' these days..it has receded into some distant past along with the belief that women are of lesser stuff as compared to men..we do not hear anymore about the fights for emancipation among women..women have never been disfranchised, as far as pakmat is concerned..they have always been my equal..and I never bear them grudges in their fight for equality..there is no reason why they should be paid less for doing the same job as men..or restrict some jobs to males only..if we can do it, and they can do it better, then let them in, by all means..

..and even in the days of women receiving better treatment because they are women, like that two days unrecorded leave for female constables in the police force when they had their menstruation, pakmat attributed it to the differences between a man and a woman..something that should be recognised and given due regard..

..the point I am trying make is this: we are equal but we are different..and the sooner we accept the differences, and  adjust our lives around them, the better for everyone..

..after several marriages, a couple of divorces and more than a dozen children, I have learned to take them in my stride..and arranged my life around it..it is less of a hassle..

...like..when taking my wife to a supermarket..she had to buy some underwear..hers were all worn..I would have completed the purchase in under fifteen minutes..

"Won't be long, love..just a jiffy."She said..and I would parked my car, irregardless,  walked to the food court, got the papers out and relaxed..two hours later she would walked out with 12 tins of evaporated milk, several bottles of sauce, bread, sugar, a new dress, a pair of slippers, batteries for those clocks hung around the house and a pair of shears for her gardening..(those batteries I have been meaning to buy for the past month, but not quite getting to it)..

..fifteen minutes later, as I was negotiating the traffic lights, she would tapped me gently on the shoulder and said that she had forgotten about the underwear..
"It's ok," I said, "We'll do it again next Friday." She'd smiled...and I would touched her cheeks...

Thursday 7 October 2010

..your first..

..it is generally believed that no one forgets their first..no matter what the first is..whether it is the first love, first kiss or your first divorce..there are other first that are just as unforgettable..things like first car, first accident..or first plane ride...for some there will never be a second after the first..and there are some who never had a first....but in every one's life, there will always be a first time..

..but for pakmat the first whatever came and went..some were blissful and cause of much happiness, like receiving my first pay as a clerk in the Public Services Commission, K. Lumpur way back in April, 1963....some were painful and cause of much regret..like losing a month's salary at a card game of twenty-one a few months later..which led to the last time I gambled..so some first became your last..

...and, of course, there is the first marriage..which led to second...and a third..you do not forget your first when you marry more than once..but you do not forget your subsequent marriages either..and the first divorce..which led to a second...and you do not forget them, too..

..but if I had not married at all, there will be no 13 children...which brings up an interesting question...who am I to deny them their first step on this earth?...

Tuesday 5 October 2010

..susie darlin'..

..those days it is not enough that you know how to strum the guitar..you must also be able to sing the latest hits..from Robin Luke's Susie Darlin' to Cliff Richard's Evergreen Tree..

..pakmat managed by learning a few chords, mainly C, Am, F, F7 and G...and with that learned to improvise and sang Bobby Helms' Fraulein, my first exposure to country music...but for the song Susie Darling, it was the 'whoa-ho, Susie Darlin'..that got to me..a pause followed by vigorous strumming on the guitar..





..I think it was these two songs that started my never ending love for simple, sugary songs and country music..and the imagery that words can evoke..


Monday 4 October 2010

..left foot, right foot and Mat Hitam..

..my left foot is bigger than my right..although it does not affect my walking, it makes it a bit difficult when buying shoes..most times I ended up buying a pair that fits my left but too big for my  right...but I bought them anyway for I need to wear shoes sometimes..

..speaking of shoes I remember the time when I was in Form 3 and was caught playing the piano in my neighbour's house instead of studying for my LCE..my uncle threw his shoe at me..it missed and I retrieved it and fearfully handed it back to him..I remember him sighing..'What's to become of you, Mat Hitam..?' ..yes, they called me Mat Hitam, then, being a shade darker than everybody else..a name that stuck among my many cousins, uncles and aunties..

..lately, circumstances brought me back to them.. cousins and distant cousins who were once play mates when we were kids half a century ago,  most are successful in their respective careers, with one or  two of them millionaires...they found themselves in need in Kota Bharu..they came back to reconnect with their past..and though they could not remember my full name, they remembered Mat Hitam..


..and I took them to Pantai Irama, Bachok..for some satay and grilled fish..oblivious to the motley night crowd, we were lost in our banter on times past, recalling mischiefs and pranks..none of our lives had turned out the way we would liked it to..I know they had expected better of me..but sometimes that night, we realised that whatever way our lives had turned out..it was the way it was meant to be..

Monday 27 September 2010

..once you are dead..

..once you are dead, you no longer carry your father's name..henceforth you will be known as the child of your mother..pakmat bin aminah..or, as in the case of my neighbour, Mok Zah, 67, who died this morning of renal failure at 5.30 am..Azizah bt Fatimah..a name she will be known as in all doa's... the name that will be engraved on her tombstone, if at all it is engraved..and the name she will be called upon on Resurrection Day by her Maker..

..and at her burial this evening at 6.30 pm, I sat with the rest of the kampong folks..giving her final respect as a woman who had borne 9 children, with eight surviving her, all of whom did well in life..with the eldest a principal of a secondary school in Bachok and the youngest a teacher in Sabah..

..fare well, Mok Zah binti Fatimah..May you rest in peace..May God forgive your sins..and May He places you in one of His gardens in Eden..

..al-Fatihah..

Saturday 25 September 2010

..something for a lazy weekend..

..Lady Kama's reminiscing about her bonfire days reminded me of  Bobby Darin's Clementine..



..have a joyful, foot-tapping weekend, folks..

Tuesday 21 September 2010

..having children..

..its easy to have children..given the right circumstances, it could even be acutely pleasurable..whether once weekly or twice weakly..it doesn't matter..these days, you don't even need a husband, or a wife..but bringing them up is another cup of tea altogether..for nothing is more time-consuming, energy-sappy and resources-draining than bringing up children...we spent our money on them..we kept tabs..but we seldom keep tag..

..so, how much does a parent spend on each child up to SPM level?..a period of 17 years..if we were to put an average of  RM10.00 per day per child, ( a conservative sum, even by Bachok standard), then RM10 x 30 x 12 x17 = RM61,000.00 per child..pakmat have more than a dozen..but if we averages 4 children per family, then it is RM244, 000..not counting other costs, of course...things like medical and transport..or recreational cost..

..and after all those hectic years, and money spent, there is still no guarantee that they will turned out the way we want them to be..the rate of satisfaction is negligible, at best..for children have their own mind about what they want to be..if they want to be anything  at all..and parents' stations in life have little bearing on how they will turn out in the later years..

..I remember a lowly police constable who was the driver to his Chief..drew a lowly pay of RM240.00 per month, then... stayed in a Class 'G' barracks which had only one bedroom, yet his sons completed their education at university level, while his Chief two sons were drug addicts..

.. there is even a study by a Harvard professor, no less, a certain Danial Gilbert, who concluded that marital satisfaction decreases dramatically after the birth of the first child..and increases only after the last child left home..but closer home, Bachok, especially, we were led to believe that marital satisfaction is at its peak after the birth of the first child..personally, I noticed that my wives are at their most attractive and sexiest after delivering  their first child...there is this glow, a certain sheen to the skin and hair that oozes sex appeal..and the second child followed soon after..

..but no matter how you look at it..it takes a special woman that can take up the role of a mother..a special woman, indeed, who prefers motherhood..to Rhonda's choice..



..click on cartoon to enlarge..

Sunday 19 September 2010

..Ayam and the 6 days optional fast in Syawal..

..ever since we had her, more than 3 years ago, she had proven to be a tabby with fixed habits, more or less..

..totally domesticated, she will not pee or poo in the house.. allowed total freedom, nights she would, most times sleeps with me, occupying a portion of the bed, where the missus had laid out a folded kain pelikat ..days were spent romping around the neighbours' houses..always playful, there is nothing facetious  about her being clean and neat..



..our ritual during Ramadan suited her..an early riser, she would wakes me up with her soft meow between 4.30 to 5.00 every morning whilst rubbing her face against my feet or hands..and I would stagger to the kitchen, fill her bowl with a clutch of feed and fill her drinking bowl with fresh water..by the time we finished sahur, and I prepared myself for the morning solat, she would be at the door, waiting to be let out...outside Ramadan, the ritual was the same...minus the sahur, I would linger a little in bed, ignoring her meows and rubbings..

..and so it was that when the missus suggested we start our six days optional fast of Syawal on Saturday,  I promptly agreed..Ayam, would love it..and she did, having sahur with us in the wee hours of the morning..Auji being indisposed, son not willing..it was just me, missus, a cat named Ayam...and the cool, morning breeze  from the sea...

Wednesday 15 September 2010

..little joys, little tears..

..everyone has their little moments of joy and tears..



..joy is when you meet you 12yr old daughter on the fourth day of raya..she came with her mother, stepfather,  her 15yr old aunt and her two grandparents..it was cikmat, papa and tatak time..tears is that little tears that she cried when I embraced her goodbye..

Monday 13 September 2010

..pakmat's raya..

..raya will always be about children..and fireworks..



..as was pakmat's raya..it was a riotous first day..nay, it started the night before..as we gave thanks to Him on the last breaking of fast, saying our goodbye to the month of Ramadan..there was a tinge of sadness at the mosque after the last solat of the night, followed by a recital of the Takbir Raya, amid the loud and incessant firing of crackers that continued late into the night.. it was like Bachok was at war..the loud reports and flashes of light send Ayam fleeing into the dark..

..memories of past Ramadans and Rayas came to the mind..as a kid of Upin's age with mother..trying on a pair of new shorts she had patched up together from leftover cloth..as a youth in KL, alone in his rented room, fighting the tears that flowed on hearing the Takbir Raya on the radio, not really knowing where to go, and kampung was too far..as a man with two wives, and trying to juggle Raya between the two of them..


..after a time, pakmat no longer makes 'balik kampung' trips..for he has become the kampung his children came back to...and as Ramadan receded, and Syawal makes its way, he gave his thanks to his Lord..for that little time and that little space, when he was together with his children...and his children's children..

..until the next Ramadah..God willing...

Sunday 5 September 2010

..I am standing again..

..and so, with the end of Ramadhan near...and IdilFitri just around the corner, I am standing again to be counted..

..I stood before my wife and ex-wives..as you have forgave me before, please find the grace in your hearts to forgive me again..I am not the best of husbands or ex-husbands..nor the man you all thought I was or would be...I do not have the qualities that you all seeked..I am just what I was borned to be..a man without pretensions, trying hard to carry the mantle of caliphship and faltered trying...

..and before my children, I stood again..please forgive this old man who is standing now in front of you as your father..for I am never the best of fathers...there were things that I should have done but didn't..and some things that I shouldn't but did..and there were times when my ego blinded me to your needs...please forgive your father his inadequacies..his faults and his wrongs..for nothing mitigates my love for you, no matter how thick..no matter how thin..

..and I stand before my friends, old and new..forgive me if I did not turned out to be the friend in need and in deed..or if my words speak louder than my actions..or if I did not turned up to your expectations..for I shall always be me..



..above all, I stood in front of my God, Allah..


..I am standing before you, Lord, in all humility, seeking Your Forgiveness..for all my failures and sins..for my misdeeds and transgressions..for my weakness, which are many..as against Your Mercy which is Boundless..Forgive me, Lord, this humble servant of yours.. who tried his utmost to bask in Your Light during this Ramadan..


..selamat hari raya aidilfitri..

Saturday 4 September 2010

..save the last dance for me..

..I am not a Michael Buble fan..at the risk of being lynched and skinned alive by legions of his female fans, Zen included, I have to say that I do not think much of singers who made a name for themselves by singing covers..no, for I grew up with the Drifters and Dean Martin..but for this song, I do not mind Michael Buble's version of it..heck, sometimes even old songs need to be restyled with a new beat..



...more so old men like me.

.. Sungei Kelantan..

..scenes along the bank of Sungei Kelantan..


..our legacy...for our children's children..

Tuesday 31 August 2010

..who's minding the environment?..

..53 years on........

..we are too busy calling others heretics..
..busy slinging mud at each other..
..to score our political points..

..finger lake, Pantai Irama..stifled to death..
..where  once the water was green..
..finger lake Pantai Irama..to hide the scene a fence
was erected around it..what you cannot see cannot hurt..
..on the left is the beach..
..Sungei Kemasin, Bachok..yes, this is a river..
a river slowly dying.. once it was
free flowing blue water...
..Sungei Kemasin, Bachok..a river strangled..
..Sungei Kelantan..the colour has been yellow for the
past two decades..right from the source of Nenggiri
to the estuary of Kuala Besar..should be renamed
the Yellow River of Kelantan..no prize for guessing
why it was so...


..when we should be throwing mud into the river..
..instead of at each other..