A Can of a Tale

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Over the weekend Nazzim asked me to do something for him.

“Papa, next time when you have a canned drink, could you save the can and bring it home?”

“Sure, why not? But why?”, I said, thinking that he might need some soda cans for a school project or homework.

The answer was not what I expected. It seemed that last week, while walking home from school with his one of his good friends, they come upon an empty soft drink can which his friend then picked up.

Not knowing what his friend intended to do with it, he told his friend to throw it at something, because that was what he’d probably do with an empty soft drink can. You know how kids are, they’d throw stones, anything, at a target, let it be a tree, a lamp post or the unlucky neighbourhood cat…… The cat part is a joke, I have never thrown anything that could hurt a cat, nothing other than water balloons or balled-up piece of paper that might scare the remaining lives out of a cat but nothing that would hurt the animal. And I am pretty sure that Nazzim would not do that either.

“Balinglah tin tu…”, Nazzim said.

“Tak, saya nak jual tin ni. Dapat duit”, his friend said. This was his friend who comes from a family of ten or eleven children and we’d hear once in a while how he’d be short of money for normal expenses.

Nazzim wants to give all soft drink cans that he could get his hands on to his friend so that his friend could sell them and get some money. I must have done something right with that son of mine.

Anyone’s got any empty soft drink can to give away?

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Happy Birthday, Princess

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Sofia turns nine today. She wants a new bicycle for her birthday present. Tell me if there is a way that I could refuse her. No, right?

She still insists on kissing me at every opportunity, before I leave for work, when I come home, when she leaves for school or tuition or when it's time for her to go to bed. I'll take all that I can get now while I'm still "laku". She still thinks I'm the greatest and I'll let that notion linger as long as she wants. When it's her bedtime, nothing can make her happier than if I were to tuck her in. After making sure she brushes her teeth and does her isyak prayers of course. She has started singing along with the song that is playing on the radio and I wonder when did she memorised all of them. When will she start to make me wonder whether I have been a good father or otherwise?

The bicycle will burn a hole in my pocket but as long as I am able to and can make her happy, I guess I will. She gets on Lina's nerves more often than not daily. But she is still her mother's best friend. Lina does say that she wants Sofia to be able to talk to her, to be her daughter, and to be her friend, her bestest friend, if there is ever such a word. She still gets on her brother's nerves all the time. And him, on her nerves all the time. They try to deny everything and anything from each other and I told them that a hand that holds something can never latch on to something better. It usually doesn't work. Sometimes only my sternest instructions could keep them tormenting from each other but sometimes the softest words would yield the same results, at times maybe even better.

To a father, a daughter personifies an extension of all the prettiest, softest, happiest and sweetest things in life. And then some. She wants to be a doctor, a teacher and an ustazah, all three and I said that I'll be the luckiest human being ever in that aspect.

Happy Birthday, Princess.

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A Year's Worth or Worthless....

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It has been a year yesterday since I started this blog. It was supposed to be me and my buddy Red - he was supposed to provide the pictures and me the words since I thought it might be easier to write with some visual prodding but I think he tricked me.

It was suposed to be a once a week thing but I think I must have posted 80 articles or so these last 52 weeks. I noticed that the best times to harvest ideas for the site has been during meetings. Long, boring, droning meetings. I used to be very prolific at writing letters. In the late eighties, I was writing to Liz, Mr. B, Anton, Eyes and Red and they, five people, could not keep up with me. I was writing each of them a letter a week. Yup, twenty or so letters a month. The secret was simple, the people to whom I am writing to are already my friends and I do not need to impress them with world saving superheroic notions, mundane day to day happenings in my life are interesting enough for them. At least I used to think so. I'll get Red's confirmation or denial on this. His survival depends entirely on his answer.

My posts are of not much literary value but they might represent what was going through my mind at that time. Few were easy to write while for most, I had to rack my brains to coax the words out.

The last week has been a, well, a typical week. Played golf twice, badly. Went to see a movie, Start Wars - Revenge of the Sith and that brought back memories to more than a quarter of a century ago when I asked for money from my late father to see the first one, Star Wars. He came to pick me up from the hostel but I just put my stuff into the old Fiat and asked for a few bucks to see the movie and to find my own may home the next day. I think I saw it with Bonch.

Went to a wedding, Lina's niece (her second cousin's daughter). One of those We-have-a-wedding-to-go-to-tonight, Why-didn't-you-tell-me-earlier and I-just-got-to-know-from-Mama-this-morning-and-please-could-we-go-for-we-must-go and OK-I-guess kind of thing. It was alright, many of Lina's relatives are much more prominent and well to do than mine. We have another one to go on the 11th of June and I must get myself a songkok for that one for Nazzim's songkok is too tight for me. My hair sticks out like lightning bolts from under his songkok.

Today, I had a very interesting conversation with someone whom I have known for more than two decades but until today, I don't think we could call each other a friend. After the hour plus long phone conversation, I think I can call her a friend. I could use one more friend.

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Mobile Madness

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I think the mobile phone operators in Malaysia are making money out of nothing at all. I was at our supply base, out drinking on Wednesday night and this girl next to me was busy messaging on her handphone, non-stop, like a dervish. Putting on my “muka tak malu” and “come what may” mode, I commented :

“Busy messaging nampak?”

Came the reply, “Ya, I topped up a hundred Ringgits at 5.00 p.m. just now and now the balance is only fifteen Ringgits”. She then showed me the balance. Proudly, like a badge of honour.

Eighty-five Ringgits in four hours. Ananda Krishnan would have loved her. People like her make him get richer and richer. He would have hated Lina. She finds it difficult to finish the thirty-Ringgit top-up that we have to spend monthly on her phone. So I make it a personal crusade to use her phone while I wait for Nazzim and Sofia during their music and taekwondo lessons. And still I only managed to make a small dent only in her balance.

My usage of the mobile phone is guided by one principle – as long as my boss don’t blow his top, I’m OK. So far he hasn’t. But when we have work offshore, then that principle goes down the drain as my usage would increase ten-fold. Etiquette is required too. Just this morning, while having a cup of tea in the pantry, a mousy-looking guy, whom I have never seen before, spoke on his handphone, speaker-mode, for all to hear. I have no interest in listening to a mousy-looking guy talking to a shrilly-sounding lady about their sorry lives.

Ah well, lucky Ananda.

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Notting Hill

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I saw Notting Hill again over the weekend. Don’t ask me why but I enjoy watching the movie. Each and every time. I’m no big fan of Julia Roberts. I’m no big fan of Hugh Grant either but somehow both of them clicked in the movie. I enjoyed Four Weddings and A Funeral too, I thought that Grant acted well in the movie but that was that.

Maybe my life has got nothing in common in the movie, maybe that’s why. Well, no movie star has fallen for me but I was not looking for that. I’ve got my movie star, plus throw in Nazzim and Sofia and I’ve got all the reasons I need to exist.

I can’t say that I’ve been to Portabello Road either. I must confess that I did not know the existence of that road before watching the movie. Maybe it’s Grant’s seemingly innocent and harmless character in the movie. Maybe it is his friends – none of them are world beaters and some of us might identify with that. Or the seemingly simple life that they lead in the most metropolitan of all metropolitan cities in the world.

My criteria for watching a movie is simple. As long as Arnold Schwarzenegger, Chuck Norris, Jean Claude van Damme, Sylvester Stallone and Steven Seagall are not in the movie, there is a chance that I might watch it.

If the movie has Kate Hudson, Ashley Judd or Julia Ormond in it, I’ll surely watch it. The good movies have their excellent dialogue. I remember watching An American Quilt a few years ago on a flight and before I knew it, two hours passed by so quickly.

I’ll watch the movie again surely. A movie star might never fall for me but I’ll enjoy the movies all the same.

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Of Handome Gwailos and Worried Locals

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In the papers these last few days and on the radio this morning there were some news and discussions on good looking, "handsome" foreigners coming to work in Malaysia and should Malaysian men feel threatened by these Bollywood stars look alikes.

Yeah, right. But having said that, these things do happen. Some of these "handsome" devils could and would sweep off some local lasses off their feet with their looks, causing havoc to the local families involved. I hope no one close to me pulls that stunt. Fall for someone from Kangar. Fall for someone from Kota Bharu. Fall for someone from Johor Bharu but please, please, I don't think I want to "menyalang" to Dhaka......

If any Malaysian women plans to marry these "handsome" foreigners, please do but just be ready to follow them back to Dhaka, Chittagong, Lahore or Karachi. Somehow, it does not sound the same like following your husband as he goes back to his hometown of London, Paris or New York. Yes, yes, I sound biased, I am biased and I do think those latter three are more desirable than the former four. But then please do anything you want to and marry a person of your choice.

On the other hand, I have heard some guys who specifically ask for ugly maids. Note, it's the guys who asked for it, not their wives. I think they know what their thresholds are, when it comes to a pretty person of the opposite sex. When he becomes "bertanduk" etc. "Tanduk" is what buffaloes, rhinos and cows have on their heads so you figure out what "bertanduk" is.

Sometimes the news that we get over the media is no news at all.

I need a new drug.

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Labour Day Weekend Tale

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Over the Labour Day weekend, we went to Kedah for a cousin’s, let’s call her S, wedding. She was brought up by my Auntie Z, who is the sister of her real father, my Uncle A. To complete the story, both of them are my mother’s siblings, with my mother being the eldest.

Now, Auntie Z has only two children of her own. When S was born and she was the ninth or tenth or something like that in her family and when his sister asked my Uncle A for the baby, he agreed, knowing that she’d grow up in a home with as much love but financially better. Besides, they get to see her all the time at kenduris and other family functions. Auntie Z and her family looked after her as best as they could until she graduated from college. I think by the time she was a teenager, she knew who is her real mother and father but there never was any issue about that.

When S wanted to get married, her real mother made issues out of why wasn’t she consulted on who is she marrying. And all her children, especially her 6 or so sons went up in arms saying that only they could be the “wali” for her wedding. But then recently when the matter of Uncle A’s land (he passed away a few years ago) came to be distributed, they said that S is not entitled to any portion of the land. Yeah, sure, when it suits them, they’d profess she is part of them and when it does not, she’s not part of them. For twenty-seven years, they had no part in her upbringing and suddenly they want to have veto power over her life. In a cat’s eye, said Auntie Z’s daughter.

After some mad family skirmishes, one moment deciding to come and another moment deciding to boycott the wedding, only her eldest brother showed up for the akad nikah, to be her “wali”. But my mangkuk of a cousin, that is the only word I could use to describe him, did not stay to eat or drink, he just got the ceremony finished with and off he went, claiming that he was fasting.

So last Saturday, about fifteen cars went to Sungai Petani to pergi “menyalang”. We went ramai-ramai to make sure that she won’t feel alone or lonely and there are people who think the world of her. Later we heard S herself finally proclaimed that she has only one brother and one sister, i.e. her adoptive siblings. After what her real mother and real siblings did to what was supposed to be the happiest day of her life, she has had enough of them.

My thinking was that, it was so easy to make the wedding really the happiest day of her life but her own brothers and sisters went out to make sure it would not be so.

Like we use to say, orang macam ini pun ada ka?

P.S. I love Alor Setar. Maybe I’ll tell why some time……

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