..the world cup, blogging, my sex-life and Bachok...

....the World Cup is affecting my blogging life..along with my sex life, or whatever remnants I have left of it at this point of my late years..there is no window for spontaneous conjugal activities for the time spent watching the telecasts..and 1.00 am is bed time, no matter what..and the mornings after dawn prayers for replays and high-lights...
...though the wife is not complaining about it, she and Auji mentioned to the neighbours about not being able to watch their favourite dramas...it even tried to creep in into my solat..but I managed to keep it out, so far..and I am not even an ardent fan of the sports..I used to be, as a teen and as a youth..but it waned as our soccer standing and skills as a nation waned...

 

..getting ready for the game..

..but there is something about this game that titillates..and it gives great satisfaction to see traditional football countries, champions and ex-champions being jabulani-ed and vuvuzela-ed by little countries.."World Cup heroes reduced to zeroes..' sounds apt..and gave this old man a rush of adrenalin..

..the early crowd..

.it also brought a festival air into quiet Bachok..fans gather at stalls and restaurants which cater to the frenzy by installing giant screens and projecters..making them looked more like open air theatres..strangers became friendly and gregarious..

..watching Germany drubbing England..

..they talked about countries halfway across the globe like seasoned travellers..and rattled off names of
 players and their form just like the coaches..and the elderly amongst them rued about the time Korea and Japan were Malaysia"s weeping boys...

..the citizens of Bachok joined the world in its football revelry..and Pakmat apologises to the missus..until after the final, love...

..you got mail..

..I received a letter yesterday that shook my fingers and sent me to my knees into a solat syukri....it also brought tears to my eyes..as I thanked Him for His little mercies..

..but allow me, being 'aged and senescent', to regress..

..a few decades ago...I was brash and confident..with legion of friends..assured with my job, savouring what little power that I had..I was that little Napoleon we talked about these days..

.. he came with a proposal..be a partner in his business venture..there was this project  that he landed..we'd share the profit..you sit back and I'll do all the work..I was reluctant, but he came again, whispering gains..or he would looked for someone else..and I agreed..and agreement I was to regret for the next twenty years of my life..

..yes, the project failed..there was a loan that he took that I was the guarantor..the bank manager was my scrabble kaki..and so it was that I was made a bankrupt..an insolvent wage earner..someone whose pecuniary position was causing serious embarrassment to the public service...suddenly I found that I could not renew my international passport..my right to travel was denied..I could not open accounts with any banks, own properties..cars or motorcycles..my account with Tabong Haji was frozen...I could not even be a Class F contractor..

..suddenly I was a person non-grata..I suffered, yes, but I learned to live with it..there was this hollowness in my heart but I made adjustments..I looked up to Him and accepted my fate..Lord..if this is payment for my sins..I accept it..for, indeed, I know not what You know...but there was no bitterness..just a feeling of being numb..for I took the turning with my eyes wide open..

..yesterday I received a letter of release from the Insolvency Department...releasing me of the shackles that bound my wings...copies of letters send by them to all the relevant agencies informing of the release...

..this morning I opened the door of my house to the golden rays of the sunrise..I felt its warmth on my cheeks..I took off my cap and let it danced and played with my gray and white hair..I ignored the damp in my eyes and the choking in my throat..I looked up to the translucent sky..I picked up Ayam brushing herself against my feet..I kissed her...

...God is Great...AllahuAkbar...............

..its Friday..

..time for the words of Freddie Mercury...



..back in the old days long ago...things seemed so perfect, you know..
the days endless..
..when the bad things are so few..
..those days are gone now...

..malleable memory..

"THERE is this one prayer, as beseeched by all those aged and senescent, that when they are finally taken from this world, that it be quick, that it be painless. To pass silently while sleeping would be nothing short of a blessing, a just reward for a life well lived. It would be God’s greatest gift. A quiet and deathly stroke, a quick and fatal aneurysm, sudden and spontaneous combustion. 

But alas, we have little control over such verities of life, be it death or taxes, both legally and theologically. We will, most of us, in all likelihood, languish in a room, in a hospital, surrounded by family and friends, hopefully; alone, realistically. While there, our bodies crippled, our pain managed, our minds unencumbered. The morphine sets us free and we begin to wander. Where will we go? "

from an article in NST: Well lit: Malleable memories http://www.nst.com.my/nst/articles/Welllit_Malleablememories/Article/#ixzz0qMoo5pch

..some things are always on your mind..even when you pushed it to the darkest corner of your mind..momentarily forgotten as you blissfully stepped out with every new morn..even though you end every prayer with "Lord..let my end be with iman.." ..until  little reminders come by you..of journey's end...

..a taman..

..once upon a time, in the early seventies, to be exact, just next to Panggong Lido, Kota Bharu,  there was a garden..they named it Taman Serendah Sekebun Bunga..like the theatre, it sat perched on a rise by the bank of Kelantan River..there were always people there..families with children..youths with  friends..and stray cats taking shelter..it was a place of laughter and quiet reverie..you sat  on the concrete bench under a shade and watched the river..and the boats 'penambang' that plied the river - passenger-boats that connects Kota Bharu with Sungei Pinang on the  other side..

..they are both gone now..reduced to dust and relegated into the misty past..along with the laughters, tears and broken promises..maybe the voices are still there..wafting through the air..echoing in the still of the night..whispering along with the wind that passes over the  river..

..I just have to close my eyes...



..I did not know at which point her feelings for me changed from indifference to caring..perhaps it was when I waylaid her three-wheeled trishaw with my Vespa when she was on her way to school..and I knew that her trusted trishaw man would have hit my skull with a small axe if she were to but give a command..for a minute there we paused..teacher and ridiculous suitor..but her smiled saved the day, and I sped off  sheepishly..

..but from then on, it was do wah diddy time..except, of course, for her mother...

...a trip back to k.tr...

..there was this urge to go to Kuala Trengganu yesterday..Auji mentioned something about the Crystal Mosque and Taman Temaddun Islam...I looked at the time..10.30 am..hmm..I can target to have the Friday prayers at the new mosque Penarik..and Wan Sharif of Minyak Gaz is from Pulau Duyung..and for all the years I was in Trengganu, I had never been there..before I could say yes, lets go..the children were in the car..a hug and a kiss, and the wife agreed..but it was 11.15 am when we left..

..we were a bit early for Friday prayers when we arrived Penarik..so it was ICT  time, ikan celup tepong, a kilometer from Penarik just after Petronas filling station..pakmat's favorite pitstop when taking the coastal road to KT..

..I found the new mosque at Penarik airy and spacious as against the wooden structure it replaced...I would rate Trengganu as the land of beautiful mosques..they dotted the land...some quaint..and some imposing...

the children were captivated by the multicoloured fishing boats lining the shore, Tok Bari..most were of fibre-glass..looking modern and sleek..

..the stadium where the sky fell..the sight of it was too much to resist..so we detoured a little and took some shots..shouldn't they have it up and running again?...

..Chinatown, old K.T..I  loved it..seeing those old building all done up and painted..somewhat like Jonker Street..memories of my time in KT from 1974 to 1981 rushed back...the town has changed..its a city now..vibrant and alive..almost awe-inspiring..its clean, its neat..and its a beautiful blend of the old and new...I could almost see monorails and skytrains...it is fast becoming a modern city..with all the amenities one associates with it..Kelantan and Kota Bharu have been outpaced..

..the Crystal Mosque..not as grand as I expected..I thought the royal mosque in Kuala Kangsar is more imposing..

..but for Masjid Abidin, it was as it was...calm, royal, and peaceful..painted all white..it looks almost magical...so was Masjid Hiliran..wellkept and neat..and painted yellow...

..the grand columns of Masjid Abidin..(I left the girls at Dataran Syahbandar..there was an Ekspo Pertanian going on and they wanted to pick up some souvenirs)..I parked the car at the back of the mosque and entered from the back for my Asr prayers..remembering the times, 35 years ago, the Friday prayers there..

..enjoying the spoils from the Ekspo Pertanian..I searched for akok berlauk and akok manis..and found ony the manis...years ago there was a lady in Kuala Ibai at the 007 keropok lekor stall whose akok manis was the best for pakmat..we went there later..but it was closed...

..the girls wanted to see the airport..I detoured a little on way back and had our magrib at a surau by the side of the airport..and later, a stop at SukaRamai, Batu Rakit for some keropok lekor..its lekor beats Losong...

p.s..we did made a stopover at Pulau Duyung..drove around it narrow roads...made inquiries about Pak Hassan's home stay..but we did not take any pictures...next time...

..back then..

..life, of course, is about making choices..God knows how many bad choices that I made..and I know that those bad choices, those wrong turnings, made me into what I am today..a bit disgruntled, a cynic, definitely..and suspicious of anyone, Greeks included, who came bearing gifts..I tend to question motives, as before I accepted most things on face value..and I learned how to say no...a bit late, yes..

..but back in 1970, I started out sincere enough..with no inclinations towards double meanings or ulterior motives..said what I mean and meant what I say..I set out to win her heart..and I was playing for keeps..that I was to break that heart that I fought so hard to win 18 years later was not in the grand design, then..I thought I have the strength to last the distance..its obvious now that I succumbed, maybe too easily, to my weaknesses..and I cannot offer any excuses..even though back then I did not started out to be BHF..best husband forever..but it was, for the most part, marital bliss..that later I was to let everyone down, Audrey, the children, friends and  kin alike, proved to a certain extent how true was her mother's fears.....

..but until the very end I was not able to convince her mother..only after marriage did she accepted me..but in 1970 I was not even able to convince Audrey..so I wrote her letters..there was no other mail apart from snail mail or hand delivered..but I wrote..letters upon letters..I poured out all of my anguish into words..it was like a firehose let loose..the words just flowed..sometimes she retaliated to the onslaught..she was, after all, an English teacher...sometimes she just ignored them..

..sometimes, she ignored me..