Of Norms and Prejudices

Do we inherit some of our norms and prejudices, without realizing it? Even when they have no proper justification?

This thought passed my mind recently, when I was in a Sunday karaoke session, with a close friend, a 32-year old girl and her 59-year old boyfriend.

Don't get me wrong - The Oldie was a specialist doctor, a nice guy and single and The Girl is well, unorthodox, but definitely, one of the most expressive and genuine people I've ever met. With her, what you see is what you get - she has no pretensions.

But subconsciously, I found myself being uncomfortable with their mutual smooching and open display of affection, in the karaoke room.

And it struck me that it wasn't actually the conduct that bothered me (I know a lot of couples, who are generally affectionate in public, some married, most not and I find it sweet) but subconsciously, it was because The Oldie was a Malay elder and there was huge age gap in between them.

And that's not fair. It's discrimination. It's prejudice. And worse, it's subconscious.

Do we sometimes, impose different standards on the old and the young, without realizing it? Do we expect our elders to act their age? And if so, what does acting their age mean?

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For the past few days, I've passed some questions around, just to double-check whether it's just something that I felt or whether, there's a general consensus to this double standard treatment of old people.

And I found out that it wasn't just me. It is an unspoken assumption, but one that was there, in all my friends. Some are evidently more prejudiced than me, on a subconscious level.

I breathed a sigh of relief (that if I was prejudiced, I was not alone) but yet, there was this nagging feeling at the back of my head - that even though there was a consensus of some sort - that it's neither justifiable or fair.


I'll give you some of the opinions cited in the last few days to me, by friends (who shall remain anonymous). If you fall under these brackets, you may be a victim of prejudice against old people and of them consorting with young female companions:

1) The reason why we are expected to give respect and deference to our elders, is because they are supposed to embody all the upright qualities that one would expect, in society. All old people should act in a proper way - otherwise, the "social contract" for the respect and deference by the young, is lost;


2) There is a difference in reaction between age groups with the same age gap. If a 25-year old girl was dating a 45-year old man, the natural (unspoken) assumption is that she's a gold digger and he's an "orang tua gatal tak sedar diri".

But if a 40-year old girl dates a 60-year old man,...well, good for her, because at that age, if she doesn't marry anyone, she'll probably never be married.


3) Young girls should not marry golden-agers because their residual life expectancy, is shorter. And they may be left widowed in a few years, with children to boot.

(Of course, forget the fact that large numbers of cancer or heart disease sufferers in this country, are below the age of 40 and more likely to die, due to high stress lifestyles)

However, some girls have mentioned that if the 60-something man looks like our Home Minister, Datuk Azmi Khalid,...then it's okay, because he's physically fit (reputedly swims 15 laps daily) and good-looking. And financially and status-wise, he's an absolute catch.

I see. So the problem is, if you're old AND ugly, and not rich...otherwise, no problem.

Alamak!

(Some of the girls also mentioned that if you want to smooch in public with a younger loved one, you better look AT LEAST, like Azmi Khalid. Kalau tidak, buruk mata memandang. So remember - if you must misbehave - please be good looking!)


4) The concept of son-in-law, implies that your daughter will be marrying someone that could be your child's age. Not your PEER or your SENIOR, in school.

Because having a son-in-law is figuratively adding a "son" to your family. But if she marries a golden-ager, you get a "brother" instead, albeit maybe an older one at that.

And it's embarrassing to have a son-in-law that's your age or older. Plus, he might die, before you -leaving your daughter single and alone again.


5) If you happen to marry your friend's daughter, it is a breach of trust and of a privileged position.

Because there is an implicit assumption that when you're a friend, my daughter is off-limits to you - regardless, of how pure the feelings or how chaste the relationship, may be.

However, if my daughter is a 30-something divorcee and with children, then it's okay, because you're saving her from a life of single mumhood. Or a 40-something spinster. Or just plain ugly.

So, the issue here, is (assumed) virginity (when the girl has never married) and looks (whether she's got any).


6) When parents advice their daughter on whom to marry, some of the usual criteria is: he's a good man and can lead you in a religious perspective, he's financially stable (or preferably, wealthy), he comes from a good and reputable family, he's easy on the eyes (preferably) and he's mature and he treats you and your family well.

And it's a bonus, if you're in love with him. Or those things could grow after marriage, so they assume.

But if all these qualities could be provided by a fighting fit 60-year old suitor to a 20-something girl, why do we still frown on it? And we prefer a younger man, that can fall short of the expected qualities?


7) Golden-agers should not hold hands with 20-somethings or early 30-somethings. But if they want to hold hands with someone their own age, that's okay.

(I see. So, it's not their age or the conduct, that you frown upon. It's the fact that they're creeping into your chick market).


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So, are you prejudiced, you think?

As for me, I hope I'm NOT single by the time I'm 60, because this society, is hard on old people. Otherwise, I better be like Azmi Khalid, at that age.

Heh!

True Wealth

I was quite nervous about meeting The Tycoon. He was not the richest man in the country, but he was undoubtedly and quietly, a billionaire.

I found out from my sister that we were related to him. He was my 4th cousin through our father and our pak sepupu (cousin uncle) by marriage, to our auntie.

But Frankie and I both knew that this would be a baptism of fire, for our venture. If the Tycoon shot it down, it would be quite demoralizing. He was an amazing corporate man - another boy wonder, that had been trained by Dato' Junus Sudin, one of the fathers of Corporate Malayhood, in the Fleet Group.

He was said to have been offered an opportunity to be one of Daim's boys, once - but he rejected it. He ventured forth on his own, staying very much on the corporate side, running what is now, popularly known as GLCs. But he made money, too - lots of it. And he was responsible for many of the large infrastructure and media projects in the country.

He was said to have the backing of a former Deputy Prime Minister. Unfortunately, this perceived link was also crucial, in bringing about his falling out of favour, with the then Prime Minister. Many had fallen down that path, in the past.

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Nowadays, he still operates his invisible business empire, (many of his projects are based in overseas markets) but behind a string of proxies.

The corporate figures around town still go to him for money - one of them, we were told, a very prominent property developer in Selangor.

Some of the others just visit him to pick his brain (like the Tan Sri who is a reclusive banking magnate or the Tan Sri that seems to be involved in every business sector in town) - The Tycoon was encyclopedic in his business knowledge and always had a feel of what would work and what would not. His opinions on business issues are widely respected and he was known to come up with new angles on doing things, fairly quickly.

His office was nearby to mine, in PJ. At first sight, it didn't seem like the sort of office that a man who was formerly, the head of one of the biggest Bumiputra companies on the Kuala Lumpur Stock Exchange (now Bursa Malaysia). In fact, it looked a lot like our office, just slightly bigger.

He greeted us warmly, having just completed his jemaah prayers and asked for us to wait in his room, while he finished his meeting with another corporate figure, a wunderkind from the Anwar Ibrahim days. I smiled - seems like the Anwar boys, are still working closely together.

His room was longish - an odd shape for a CEO's room. But it had no pretensions - normal office tables and chairs, metal gray filing cabinet, a wooden pigeon hole with stacks of unorganized papers, a messy table with a coffee cup on it, some old Italian sofas from the 80's that mixed garishly with the colour scheme in the room, a karaoke set, a television set and a Marantz sound system.

On the walls, were portraits of his loved ones - the photos of his wife, his children and of the times they spent together. You can tell when a person prioritises his family.

And near the windows were all his souvenirs, from all his years in the corporate world. One thing was noticeable - he collected clocks - there seemed to be one type from every country in the world. And on the cupboard beside his table, were photos of him with some of the world's most prominent figures - Bill Clinton, Bill Gates, Prince Talal Al-Waleed, Rupert Murdoch, etc.

Aside from the photos, you'd have no idea that this room belongs to a billionaire - if how it looked, was your yardstick.

But a billionaire he is. This breed greatly impresses me - they don't let their wealth get to their head and despite all that wealth, they didn't feel the need to keep up with everyone, most of whom have less money than they do.

They don't do what they do for money. They've got enough for 30 lifetimes. But they do it, for the love of creating and seeing something grow, from scratch.

Money is just a way of keeping score - a way of knowing whether the patient is healthy or not. It did not define who they are - their values did.

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And talking about values - in our 3-hour meeting with him - he talked a lot about values.

He said to me: "Do you know why there are so many weak and high-profile CEOs around?". I shook my head, quietly anticipating his answer.

"It's because they love the glamour. And the people in my batch and some of Daim's boys, may have been responsible for this. They saw us succeeding as the first generation of Melayu Korporat and they wanted all that - the limelight, the wealth, the influence".

"What they did not see was the hard work, the long hours and toil that went on behind the scenes.

In the old days, we did everything by ourselves. I typed my own letters, (even legal letters - they were just vetted by the external lawyers), did my own research and literally stayed at the office, pulling our hair out, trying to figure out to how to grow the business. We didn't take on external consultants, unless we really, really had to. We took hard decisions even when it was controversial. We worked hard - but the younger ones, never saw that".

"All they saw was the wealth and the glamour. And that is why today, they are weak and companies are falling, left right and centre".

Frankie and I listened intently. There was 30 years of Corporate Malaysia talking here. He's seen it all.

And there were many anecdotes, during the meeting. The Tycoon told us about large Government-owned corporates that were run by crooks and still are. Even when he was a prominent CEO of a large corporate, hijacking of ideas, proposals and projects, were rampant. It was happening, even at his level. And these people were closely connected to the Prime Minister - so they were untouchable.

And then there was the story of the CEO who was at one time, unemployed after a long stint in a multinational company, who came to The Tycoon for a job. The Tycoon had recommended to the Government that he become a CEO of a large company, that had a project which was of immense importance to the country.

It worked. The recommended chap became CEO of that large company and less than 2 years later, he stopped taking calls from The Tycoon and swiftly, made himself unavailable. "Bagai kacang lupakan kulit", as the old Malay saying would go. How quickly people forget who they are.

And then there was a story of the Minister, who kept talking about the Malay agenda in business - but blocked his attempt to launch a satellite he bought from the Russians, in order to protect a current satellite player in the market. The Tycoon burnt an obscene amount of money, in that venture.

"Bullshit!" the Tycoon said. "The politicians kept harping on the Malay agenda. What people don't know is that even where there are competitive Malays who didn't need Government help, we were blocked from competing with non-Malay interests that are close to some vested political interests."

A part of him sounded wistful and resigned when he talks about political overreach, into the Malaysian corporate world. It was like he knew that he and many more Malay CEOs could have done much more, had it not been for unnecessary political intervention.

That's probably why most of his business interest is overseas, nowadays.

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He told us of his childhood days, in Kelantan. And how he first made money, from a makeshift wayang kulit production, when he was 8. That was perhaps, the first indication that he would be heading a media conglomerate, one day.

And of his collection of comic books over the years, (like The Cisco Kid) that his mother had thrown away, when he was in boarding school. Little did he know that one day, he was going to be a director in the company that owned the comic books. And thereafter, he managed to regain all the back copies he lost - and more!

He told us that the mercantile community in Kelantan taught him, the basic elements of making money. It means nothing to say you're in business, in Kelantan - almost everyone is selling something.

But then, it was always the merchant that gave provided the best quality of products and service to the customer, that had the lion' share, in any sector. And the lesson stuck with him and became the cornerstone of his management style.

Growing up in Kelantan, also taught him to be a nature lover. He lamented the fact that his children could not identify many of the trees and plants, in the jungle anymore. "They cannot even identify the rattan tree! This is the MTV generation", he sighed. "They seem to know more about the world from 3rd parties and less through direct experience".

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The discussion on our venture, was interspersed with many stories, jokes and anecdotes, over black coffee. Frankie looked awestruck - it's not often that I get to see my CEO starry-eyed - but that night he was.

He was amazed, at the sheer simplicity of the man.

In total, we only spent about 50% of the time, talking about our venture. But The Tycoon's grasp of media technologies, was outstanding for a fifty-something. He started quietly, listening to us - our proposal, our ideas.

About 10-15 questions later, we realized that he knew more than he was letting on. The Tycoon is frighteningly intelligent and well-informed - and I don't say that about many people. The feeling in that room, was electric.

I remembered the words of Tan Sri Azmi Wan Hamzah when describing another Malay billionaire, Tun Daim Zainuddin - "suddenly, we were aware that we were in the presence of a very raw power, at work". That's exactly how it felt!

At the end of the meeting - he gave us a very strong and workable solution, to roll-out our products into the market. He suggested us a partner, a few strategies on how to minimize the money we needed to roll-out the products and gave us a long lecture on advertising and promotion - and how people spend too much and achieve too little.

But yes, he thought that our venture was highly workable and had a lot of potential - it's just a matter of disciplined planning and rigorous execution.

I was buzzed. We had the benefit of brainstorming with one of the top corporate brains, in the country and a billionaire, to boot. And he was giving his advice for free - no strings attached. And he told us to come back to him, if we needed to pick his brain.

Frankie and I knew that we gained an important ally, on that night. The Tycoon was the sort of person who could help bring us to the next level, be it locally or on the international markets.

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A phone call interrupted us during the meeting. It was The Tycoon's 19-year old daughter and in a manner of speaking, my 2nd cousin. From the photos on the wall, she looked like a hot babe. What a pity I'm not a cradle snatcher. Heh!

She was taking Certified Accounting Technician's (CAT) course at a private college in town. "I equip all my children with accounting knowledge and at the very least, an accounting qualification, as soon as they leave school. Hopefully, they will continue and become accountants, but if not, at least, they have the basics."

The Tycoon is himself a Certified Accountant. And he swears that accountants make the best corporate managers, because they knew whether something made money or not. And whether something should be continued, or chopped off.

I didn't necessarily agree with him - but yes, an accountant with Richard Branson-like entrepreneurial qualities, would be a potent combination. The Tycoon was proof of that.

His business interest was diverse, and his range of interests were eclectic, but he had a natural feel, for things that would make money. And even in his fifties, he still worked hard. Going back at 10 to 11 p.m. at night, is still a habit.

And then he said: "I have to go back later and give accounting tuition to my daughter, at 11+. We do this about twice a week. Who better to teach her than me, right?"

We both nodded. He could bloody well afford a tutor for the daughter, but he still tutored her, by himself.

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I could be impressed, by how much money he has. But the money he had, did not make him a different man. He was still a very down to earth man.

And he never talked of his wealth and possessions. Or of his trips round the world to exotic and historical places and posh outlets, like most millionaires I've had the privilege of meeting, do.

He talked about ideas - and more ideas. Why some things work, why some others don't. And the lessons that you can learn, from the successes and failures of businesses, around the world.

And he said to us: "The most important thing, is to have a good attitude, in anything you do. Work hard, think hard, be humble and have a good attitude. And don't get side-tracked, by the wealth and the glamour. It means nothing, in the next world."

Yes, Sir.

But then, what struck me even harder, was what a well-rounded individual the Tycoon is. He didn't need to make a living - but it was obvious that he was living his life, to the fullest, in all senses.

Now, that's a truly wealthy man.

Burning Bridges

There are a few things in the world that annoys me, like my elder brother does.

Abang is at it, again. Now that the family house has been sold in a rush (due to his financial calamity), he has now thrown a new tantrum to the family - he has reneged on all the things that he had agreed to, for the pesaka (inheritance) distribution arrangements.

He wants more. He's broken his promises. And he's doing this, without a shred of conscience. Typical of his head-in-ass syndrome, he thinks the world is at fault, for his problems. Even though he could bloody well afford a mirror, if he bothered to look there, for the cause of his financial problems.

And now, he's holding the family to ransom. He's refusing to sign certain consent agreements (which has been agreed to, previously), unless his new demands are met. Without regard, for the rights and feelings of his siblings. Breaking all the foundations of trust, between us.

This man - my dastardly brother - is a pesaka expert in this country. He goes on TV and around the country, advising people on how to settle their inheritance matters, harmoniously. And he always attributes a certain religious slant to it, to make himself more appealing to the Malay crowd.

And in reality - he's screwing his own family, on pesaka matters. And using his edge and knowledge to victimize his siblings.

Tonight, I snapped. I reached my limit, after years of being patient and tolerating his nonsense.

Tonight, I told him that he's not my brother anymore and I'm breaking our family bond. (My other siblings feel pretty much the same, but have not reached the disowning point, yet) His replies reflected that he was unfazed and unrepentant. He didn't care - as long as he got what he wanted. And he never once considered the possibility that he could be in the wrong.

Do you want to know what my worth is, to my brother? RM60,000.

For a mere extra RM60,000, he's willing to lose my love, respect and blood ties, as his brother. Even though it's clearly not his and it belongs to others, in the family.

And he's not stopping at that. Now he's asking for more.

Thank God that Mum isn't alive, to see the animal that he's become. It would have crushed her. For his sake, I hope repentance reaches him before Death's door does. God is the only one that could care for him, now.

Because he has certainly lost his siblings. All of them.

A Long Lunch

There I was in Bangsar Shopping Centre feeling quite aimless, at lunchtime.

Having just finished a meeting with a few venture capitalists nearby, with my CEO, Frankie -I was planning to have lunch at BSC, before heading back to the office. Since Frankie had to head over to Citibank and was out the whole afternoon, I had to have lunch alone.

And anyone who knows me, knows that I HATE eating alone. It takes the joy out of eating, really.

It's when I'm walking around alone like that, that I start thinking about people and stuff. Friends, family, former lovers, work, migrating to New Zealand - everything under the sun. One of the things that passed my mind was my friend, Bo, who recently lost his wife (and the baby that she was carrying) to a mysterious illness.

God works in mysterious ways. About less than 10 minutes after I thought about him - I bumped into Bo, at BSC. He looked okay but his eyes were very sad. I had not seen him for a few months now and the last time he came over to the family house, was about 2 years ago.

I walked up to him, shook his hand and gave him a friendly hug. "I'm so sorry, bro', on what has happened. I'm sorry that I couldn't make it to the funeral in Seremban too". And then I said - "take some time out. I'm taking you out for lunch".

He smiled and nodded. I was glad - for both him and me.

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We ended up in Chili's at BSC. I was consoled to see that even though these were rather gloomy times for both of us, it didn't affect our appetite, any. We both ate like there's no tomorrow.

Bo had a lot to say. I've never known him to be an expressive person - he usually didn't like to talk much about his personal life.

But during that lunch, I was happy to be his outlet - I knew that he needed one, since he was still coping with the grief of losing Marina. Unlike me, he didn't blog or have any other form of emotional or creative expression.

Plus being there for him, took my attention away from my own pain - which I was dealing with quietly. I focused on him.

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He told me how it all happened. Marina had complained of feeling out of sorts for the last 2 weeks of her life. 3 private hospital check-ups had produced nothing - they certified with a clean bill of health and her pregnancy was going well.

All the doctors said that there as nothing wrong with her. This annoyed Marina even further - because she had almost fainted twice and the pain and discomfort, were real to her.

But there were signs that something was amiss - and Bo regretted not noticing. Though I told him that these signs, were not really obvious.

Like the fact that Marina asked to eat out a lot during Ramadhan, which was not her usual pattern. Or, when she insisted on sending the Raya cookies that she made for her mother immediately, even though Syawal was still quite some time away. Or, the times when she was extremely quiet, in the car - as if her thoughts, were on something far and distant.

And then there was the morning before she passed on - when she apologized to him, if she had been a difficult wife, to him. She had earlier related to her mother, that maybe this pregnancy was a bit more challenging - maybe because she had been temperamental, in her reaction towards Bo, in the past.

Bo denied any such thing. He told her that he loved her, that he was happy and that they had a good life together. He accepted her apology, hugged her and comforted her. Little did he know, that it would be the last time, he would see her alive.

Marina quietly fainted in the surau at her office, that afternoon. Her friends rushed her to Ampang Puteri but she had passed on, even before Bo's arrival at the hospital.

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Bo didn't know how to react to Marina's death. It was confounding - she had been given a clean bill of health and the doctors, mystifyingly, could not identify her cause of death - not without a post-mortem.

And he didn't see the point of doing a post-mortem - it wouldn't bring her back. Furthermore, it's a good practice in Islam to not delay the burial of the dead, more than necessary.

What worried him at that time, was how he was going to break the news to their 2 little girls - one was aged 5 and the other was 3. How would he explain that their mother was now gone - without a concrete reason? He was having problems explaining it to himself!

But throughout the funeral, to his great surprise and relief, the girls held steady - they were even stronger than the adults. They cried a little on the morning of the funeral when the jenazah was brought home but they didn't shed a tear, at any other time. At worst, they repeatedly opened the album to see Marina's photos - an indicator that they missed their mother.

His eldest daughter read the Yaasin, beside the jenazah at home before the funeral, while the younger one repeated the Fatihah. Bo seemed visibly moved and started crying when talking about this moment and my eyes started welling up, too.

According to all who attended, Marina's jenazah had a smile etched on her face, when the children were reciting the Quranic verses. Yes, Marina would be proud.

Bo attributed the strength of their children, to the religious school upbringing that Marina had insisted on, for their children. They seemed to have an easier grasp on death being a natural extension of life.

He related that at the family breakfast on the morning after the funeral, Big Sister said to Little Sister - "mesti best Mama sekarang ye. Dia ada kat syurga - kalau nak roti canai ngan Milo Ais, mintak je dapat. Kalau kita, kena pergi kedai". He nodded in agreement, half-amused and half-sad, as tears streaked down his cheeks. To which Big Sister said: "Abah, jangan nangis, nanti seksa roh Mama. Nanti roh Mama nangis".

Bo stopped crying immediately. He was amazed at the wisdom and simplicity of children. It was evident that Marina's strength were in their children, he felt.

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I consoled Bo and told him to be strong. Marina had died in a good way - she had lived a happy life with him, she apologized to him before she passed on, she lost consciousness in the prayer room and she passed away during Ramadhan. It was all in good circumstances - indicative of a blessed soul.

He wondered whether he could have been a better husband or a better listener, when she was alive. And whether he could have done more for her, while she was alive. It's unnecessary regret, really - anyone who had seen them together while she was still alive, would know that he is an attentive and doting husband.

And I told him: "The highway to heaven for a Muslim woman, is to make her husband happy. And you made it easy for her to do that, because you were a good husband and you loved her, without limits. She's led a great life with you and now she'll have a great afterlife. You've done all you can, Bo".

He quietly broke down again, trying to suppress the tears. "InsyaAllah", he said.

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We also talked about our Aidilfitri celebrations (or the lack of it). He told me how he had dressed the children in their Raya baju kurungs (something which Marina would have done on previous Aidilfitris), while he only bothered to put on a T-shirt and kain pelekat.

However, the grandparents on both sides made sure that the children, were not short of affection during Aidilfitri - and Bo was relieved for that.

His reaction is understandable - he had no Aidilfitri spirit without Marina. But I told him after that "you know, Bo - you haven't entirely lost her. You've got your 2 little girls and there will always be a part of Marina in them - in the things they say, the way they act and they way they look. She left you a part of herself, within them".

He reflected on this for a while and smiled. "You're right", he said, perhaps counting his blessings, in the children.

And then he said: "Raya must have been far worse for you, then. At least, I had the children. You're completely alone".

That statement suddenly made me feel better, for him. Ironically, I instantly felt worse, for myself. But yes, I was glad that he was feeling better.

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It was a 3-hour lunch. 2 men in a long emotional discussion, being reflective on tragedy, love and life. He needed to be consoled badly and I guess I needed to console someone, just as badly - just to stop feeling what I felt, for a while. I needed to focus on someone else's pain, for a while.

Perhaps, it was fated that we should bump into each other on that day.

It was our first long lunch in KL - and we promised that it won't be the last. We were both facing different challenges in our lives - but adversity will make us stronger, to be there for each other. And for others, who may need the support, along the way.

After all, there must be a stronger reason for emotional pain, above and beyond, just ourselves.

Sinis

Aku sinis pada hari ini
pada segala kata dan nukilan
pada segala perlakuan
pada semua lafaz janji
semua ucapan sayang,
pada semua maging sesat yang berpura lemah

Aku sinis pada hari esok
pada semua manafaat kepercayaan ku beri,
pada semua pengorbanan
ku curah tanpa pasti,
pada kezaliman insan lain,
bagai pupusnya hati

Tak semua mangsa kekal dipijak
Malah menjelma menjadi pemangsa
Tak semua mangsa patut dikasihani
Ramai yang sesat, tak ingin kembali
Resamnya, bangkai tak boleh
dimakan lagi
Walau elok rupanya dari luar

Aku berasa sinis selamanya
kerana aku lemah, alpa nan yakin
pada mereka yang tidak benar,
tidak tahu nilai persahabatan
dan kasih,
Semuanya bisa diambil pakai dan buang
mengikut nafsu semasa

Mungkin sinis ini kan menjadi tembokku
dari manusia palsu,
Hindariku dari kecewa,
Itu pintaku pada dunia.

Naif

Kebelakangan ini
Aku terasa naif
tentang hidup dan dunia.
Hijau sekali terasa kantaku,
Menatap segala fenomena
perlakuan dan kerenah manusia

Naifkah aku, tanyaku,
Jika sangka baik titik permulaanku
Naifkah aku,
Jika ku percaya kata-katamu, sebagai bayang niatmu,
Melainkan terbukti
Segalanya palsu

Naifkah aku
Mengharap insan itu rasional?
Naifkah aku
Menunggu rakyat bangun dari tidurnya
Naifkah aku
Jika yakin pribumiku bisa berubah dan berjaya?

Kerapkali, aku diiingatkan bahawa aku naif
Yang kita tidak hidup dalam dunia ideal
Yang perkara salah itu, biasa
Yang rasuah itu, "cukai ekonomi"
Yang menipu rakyat itu tabii kuasa
Tabiat si cerdik menumpas si dungu

Walau perit ajaran hidup
Walau merangkak tapak sedarku
Aku memanjat keluar dari lubuk naif
Tak ingin ditipu wayang kulit tanpa dalang
Tak ingin dilukai pelakon songsang
Tak ingin lagi jadi mangsa dunia malang

Namun, jauh didalam
Aku pegang erat secebis naifku
Supaya dapatku percaya pada kebaikan manusia
Pada keadilan di dunia,
Pada keluarga, pada cinta,
Pada segala yang bisa mengubah.

Dunia Itu Empat Segi

Dunia itu empat segi,
Jika kau amati dengan mata hatimu,
Tak semua diterima dek akal,
Walau olahanmu begitu,
Kerapkali kita menyaksi, yang hidup
mengecewakan harapan.

Dunia itu empat segi,
Bila jalan bengkok nampakmu lurus,
Amanah suci tanggapmu kuasa,
Ruang memilih fikirmu bebas mutlak,
Bila tindakmu rakus bercanggah niat,
Kulitnya indah, isinya basi

Mungkin dunia empat segi ini bulat padamu,
Asal dicapai cita di jiwa,
Agar terjamin bahtera esokmu,
Molek sempurna di mata jelata, walau dusta harganya
Benarnya, benakmu lebih mengetahui,
yang nyata, takkan hanyut dilemasi fantasi

Dunia itu empat segi dan bukan bulat,
Kerna insan melanggar susila,
Kitab peneman menjadi hiasan semata,
Bisa buta di hari terang,
Dibuai mimpi didalam jaga,
Punca kemahuan tanpa batasan

Dunia itu empat segi, adik
Jika peganganmu kau lepaskan.


Stingray
9 November 2005

Ruang

Ruang
Aku merasai kekosonganmu,
Menanti yang tak tiba,
Mengejar yang tak tercapai,
Seperti ada yang cacat pada diriku,
Yang menolak segala tuah

Ruang
Aku sabar demi sabar,
aku akur demi akur,
Menerima nasibku bak kesunyian
si tuli,
Yang patah semangatnya,
Yang gersang jiwanya, tanpa hujan rahmat

Ruang
Engkau bagai sahabat karibku,
Yang tidak ku pinta,
Hadirmu menghantui hayatku
tanpa penghujung,
Engkau mengajar tanpa belas,
Engkau mengajar melepasi makna

Ruang
Cukup sudah setiamu,
Tak ingin ku hidup,
bak suria tanpa bahang,
bak bulan tanpa malam,
bak wujud tanpa sayang.

Stingray
8 November 2005

The Loneliest Aidilfitri

It's 26 minutes past the first day of Syawal.

And I feel absolutely nothing. No anticipation, no looking forward to the first day of Syawal.

It's as I suspected all along - this year will be the worst 1st of Syawal, I've ever experienced.


***********************************************************************************

I was at Mum and Ayah's grave this morning, with Kak and her daughter, Diana.

I read Surah Yaasin for both my late parents and while I was reading, I felt calm and controlled. I read the Yaasin with ease - 5 years of spending every Sunday at Ayah's grave, gave me a photographic familiarity with Surah Yaasin - I could read most parts with my eyes closed.

It wasn't until after I finished reciting the Yaasin and Al-Fatihah and I was laying the scented flowers and scented water on Mum's grave, that the heavy feeling hit me. Once again, she's not going to be with me, this Aidilfitri. And even though I've been repressing it, I've missed her terribly.

A few tears that I was holding back, streaked down my cheeks. Dammit - I shouldn't be crying. I'm the guy here. I felt a little embarrassed.

And this year, I'm not even celebrating Aidilfitri in our family home anymore. In fact, none of us siblings will. The family home has been sold off and for the first time ever, we find ourselves "homeless" in Aidilfitri - on top of being without parents.

Kak said to me "Raya is not fun anymore without her". I nodded in agreement.

Raya without Mum is really different. There was something special, that she added to the day.

I remember being woken up early in the morning for Aidilfitri prayers and the house is buzzing with activity. The usual delicious gourmet spread of nasi dagang, nasi impit, soto ayam, laksa kelantan, were on the dining table - waiting to be savoured. Rafeah Buang's classic raya tune would be playing at full volume in the background, while everyone in the house took their turns in using the bathrooms.

Every year (since I was 7), up till the year before she passed on, I would make it a point to get her to tie my samping for me, on Raya morning. It was my little way of "bermanja" with her - it gave her a good reason to pretend being upset - when I knew she relished the fact that I relied on her for this. It's like a part of me, that never grew up.

It helped that I was hopeless at it - it always looked nicer when she helped me tie my samping. She always knew how to tie it and make me look like a "pendekar". And every year, I would get her to advise me on the new baju Melayu for that year - what colour, what new style to apply (which was almost always her call), etc.

And then as the family tradition dictates, we'd go walking to the Regent's Ville mosque together - the males of the family looking dashing in their baju melayu.

And when we'd return from the mosque, the whole family (Bapak, Mum, siblings, nephews and nieces, grandchildren, etc.) would congregate in the family house for the "bermaaf-maafan" session and thereafter, gorge ourselves with the delicious Raya fare that Mum has prepared, with much love and dedication. No one stops eating until they fall asleep! :)

And Mum's jokes and blunt Kelantanese comments always kept the family, roaring in laughter.

Mum would look great in her new Raya dress and as the morning progresses to noon and the visitors start rolling in, she starts playing her role as the perfect hostess. Everyone would gush about how good the food is - and she would just joke about it, modestly. She and I are the same, in that way - we're never comfortable with compliments.

Raya was great with Mum in it. She was the magic in our Aidilfitri. And she turned the family home into a cosy palace every year, for her family and friends to enjoy.

And Raya's just not the same without her.

I love you, Mum. I didn't tell you enough times, when you were alive. And it is one of my biggest regrets.

************************************************************************************

All my siblings are coping with the feeling of loss, in similar ways - they're all celebrating Aidilfitri with their spouses' families, outside of KL. I can't blame them, really. I'd probably do the same in their shoes.

And Bapak has remarried. From latest indications, his new wife does not welcome parts of his past life very much - which includes us from Mum's family. And to a certain extent, I guess I understand.

And single me? I'm spending my Raya this year in my own condo. Alone.

I don't even feel like celebrating, honestly. Festivities means nothing to those without family, family homes or kampungs. Am still making up my mind whether I should attend Aidilfitri prayers, tomorrow.

No great gourmet fare by Mum to savour, just some yummy "donated" cookies and chocolates by thoughtful friends (yes, Lita - that includes you :)). No new baju Melayu this year (or even last year) - it just doesn't feel the same doing a baju Melayu without Mum's input. No palatial family home this year to remind us of our history and heritage. No family members on the first 3 days of Raya. No wife. No kid. No girlfriend, even.

Just me. Alone. Good grief, Charlie Brown,....

Trying to keep myself distracted by planning a series of open houses to visit. I've got 3 on the first day alone (yes, Zarina - this does include yours). And hopefully, through all these open houses - I wouldn't notice so much, what's missing from this year's Aidilfitri.

Not that I believe that it would really work. But it beats sitting idle in my condo, mourning the things that I don't have. I refuse to sleep through, my situation. I want to live.

***********************************************************************************

But yes, folks - this is the worst Aidilfitri in my life. As I'm facing this, I'm beginning to realize why my mother was so concerned about me having someone "take care of me", after she passed on.

She wasn't talking about survival or being able to live alone. She was afraid that I would be alone, on days like these. And that it would take a little (or a lot) of life's sweetness from me. No man is an island. And even heaven does not compensate for a man being alone.

I understand, Mum. I understand now, why you feared for me, being alone.

But guess what, Mum? Yes, I will go through days like these. Yes, it does take away the sweetness of life, of festivities, of sharing, of family, of togetherness. No amount of money can buy love.

But days like these, will teach me to appreciate the days that I had, when you were around, Mum. And the days when I will have it again in future, hopefully, with a wife and children. Days like these, will make me stronger and take life less for granted.

Don't worry, Mum. One day, I will enjoy Aidilfitri again. Just like I did with you and our family. One day in the future.

**********************************************************************************

To all who are reading - it's not my intent to depress you on this wondrous day - but I hope in some way, what you read here will make you appreciate more the family and the home that you have, during Aidilfitri.

Because the truth is, we never really know what we've got, until it's gone. We borrow these moments and our loved ones from God - so please, make the best of it.

Me? I'm wishing for a better Aidilfitri next year. And a better life, too. Not alone. Letih hidup sebatang kara ni.

Selamat Hari Raya, folks - Maaf Zahir Batin. May the joy and blessings of Syawal be with you.


Salam Aidilfitri,
Stingray
(in his condo,...with cookies)