(This story is inspired by actual events. Names of the main characters however have either been changed or intentionally omitted so as to maintain anonymity due to the sensitivities and protocol involved).
One of my functions as a HR Officer in the company that I worked for in Kulim way back in 1993 was to ensure that the caterers we hire for the factory canteen meet the standards set by the company. There were 2 canteens, one was manned by a Malay caterer and the other had recently fell vacant when the previous caterer, an Indian, absconded. We had to urgently appoint another suitable person as we had to cater to over 1200 employees, half of whom were Indians. This was when Raja (not his real name) walked into my life. He had heard of our search for a suitable canteen operator in the grape vine and approached me to voice his interest in the business. After the usual process of screening, he was successfully appointed.
Raja was a Police Inspector who had recently been indicted and suspended from duty for abuse of authority and there was an on-going court case looming over his head. He made quite an impression with me on the first day that I met him. I was impressed with a certain style that he had and the way he carried himself. Importantly, our chemistry matched in more ways than one. Within a short period of time, we managed to forge a close relationship that many in the plant were envious of, including my boss. But there was nothing ulterior in the friendship and I certainly didn’t extend him any favouritism or grant him any special favours. He still had to comply with the requirements of the company especially in the pricing of the food in the canteen. After about a year or so, one day during our usual tete-a-tete session over some beers, he confided in me of his anxiety over the outcome of his court case that was nearing completion and that if he were to be convicted, it would mean having to give up the business as the offence attracted a mandatory prison sentence. He indicated that he was unsure of what the verdict was going to be as there had been compelling evidence from witnesses who had testified against him.
On the penultimate day of his case in Butterworth Sessions Court, I decided to take a day off to attend the hearing. There were not many people there on that day, just a handful of relatives who had come to give him moral support. The hearing itself was boring and slow with the judge writing down every sentence that was spoken as is the standard practice in courts. I sat quietly in the gallery listening to the proceedings when after a while it struck me that the judge looked familiar. After taking a good hard look at him, it dawned on me that this judge who was presiding over my friend’s case happened to be my housemate in Bangsar when I was working in KL about 12 years back in 1981!
After I got married that year, I had moved out and that was the last I heard of him. Moreover my roommate then by the name of P.K. Ramani who was close to this judge had emigrated to US in the same year so I had failed to keep in touch with the group. (Incidentally P.K.Ramani now heads a large conglomerate in New York where he has since settled down. Forbes magazine lists him as a much sought-after corporate executive in US. His story will be told another day). Added to this was the fact that I had got married and I had my wife for companionship; so everything and everyone else became secondary and kind of unimportant in my life at that point in time. When the excitement of having recognized him slowly tapered, I had mixed feelings at the thought that I never kept in touch with him after our Bangsar days when he was a DPP and later went on to become a magistrate. Even then I knew him as a balanced and industrious person; so his elevation as a judge now came as no surprise to me. It was close to 1 pm when he adjourned the case and exited into his chambers.
I came out of the court room and decided for once that I will have to say hello to this old friend of mine, if only to rekindle old memories. He was just removing his robe as I knocked on the door and entered his chambers. As I grinned from ear to ear, I greeted him saying “Selamat Petang Tuan Hakim”. When he reciprocated with a blank look, I continued “Tuan Hakim tak kenal saya lagi Tuan?” He gazed at me trying to figure out who I was or where he had met me as I walked closer. It had been such a long time since we last met. Then after a good minute or so, he blurted out “Hey Ravi! What are you doing here?”
I was happy he could place me after all these years. “I live in Kulim now Tuan” I said to which he asked almost immediately, with a smirk on his face, “Ok….so you live in Kulim now….but what brings you to MY court?” he demanded.
“Tuan, the guy who is on trial happens to be a good friend of mine” I explained, nevertheless trying to camouflage my discomfort at the statement. Wiping away his initial surprised reaction, we switched topics and discussed on our other common friends, ‘exchanging notes’ on their whereabouts and went on chatting away for a good 20 minutes or so during which time he had already asked me to drop the formality and to address him by his name. I had however exercised extreme restraint by avoiding any comments on the on-going court case. I didn’t think it was right or proper to go into the merits or mechanics of the case and thereby risk being cited for contempt for infringing into his jurisdiction or jurisprudence. After promising to meet up again soon, I shook hands with him and left.
Then a few days later was the day of reckoning. It was judgment day. I rose early that morning so I could get a place in the gallery. Some relatives of Raja had come ready with the cash in case it was necessary to raise the bail money. After a while the judge entered and after adjusting himself comfortably in his seat, started reading out his findings. After about an hour of pin drop silence in the packed courtroom, the crowd broke out in loud applause when he finally announced that “dengan ini saya perintah bahawa En. Raja dibebaskan!” From where I was seated I could see him in astonished disbelief! It took him a while to digest the reality of the situation. His legs actually failed him for a moment as he took his first step to hug his solicitors. Regaining his balance, he smiled to his host of friends and relatives who were all equally overjoyed as he walked out of the courtroom a free man, wiping away the tears rolling down as the hitherto enthralled crowd made way for him. Well wishes hijacked his attention thereafter.
After the standard formalities, Raja was fully reinstated in the police force without loss in salaries or seniority and since then has gone on to earn 3 more promotions along the way. He now serves in East Malaysia as a DSP. We still keep in touch.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Friday, November 6, 2009
Kerala beckons...!
This is an old photograph that I retrieved from my Dad’s belongings. He had been holding on dearly to it together with a few more since I was a kid. The people in the picture must be all old by now and the older ones may have probably passed away. I have no idea who they are except that they are all my paternal relatives from India whom I have never met before but who I hope to meet up soon when I visit Kerala.
All these years, I knew that I had paternal relatives in India since Dad originated from there. There is not a soul in Malaysia (other than from my Mum’s side). My sisters had been in touch with them and had even visited them a couple of times but not me. I knew all along that they were there but somehow I didn’t follow up on the lead. My Dad was eldest in a family of 5 consisting of 3 sisters and a youngest brother. They have all passed away now though. And I do know now that I have a host of uncles, aunties, cousins, nephews and nieces there. I am not too sure of their feelings towards me but I am basically all excited and looking forward to the day when I get to meet them in person. I cannot understand why this eagerness was not in me while Dad was alive. I suppose everything was taken for granted then and you tend not to give much thought to those you have not met. But it’s different now that Dad is no more. You want his memories to remain and what better way to relive those moments than being with his own people.
I cannot quite describe the feeling that I felt when I made that call to India 2 days back……to my cousin in Mumbai. First his son Rajan answered (my nephew). Then I got to speak to Mr. Raman, my paternal cousin brother. I didn’t know where to start or what to ask so I just spoke generally for a while and hung up, after getting his son’s email address so that I can communicate more often. But after I hung up, a lot of thoughts raced through my mind…….for one, I felt disturbed that I had neglected them for so long and failed to establish any meaningful relationship. I felt closeness in the connection…. something that I had not felt before……and a lot of guilt too….!
But why…? I don’t have the answers to the question. I suppose it’s the need to trigger back Dad’s memories and allow it to linger on……!
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Man in White
Back in 1980, Seremban was a sleepy hollow. There was zero development then, no Seremban 2………. or Seremban 3 or whatever. It was just that…….a sleepy hollow. I was based here, having been transferred to serve here after a one year stint in Ipoh where I worked for a cigarette company. I didn’t have any friends in Seremban then except my classmate Raymond who had moved here with his family. So when I got news that I was to be moved out of Ipoh, I called him and told him when exactly to expect me. This was the handphone-less era; so you have to make do with public phones or telegrams well in advance. He was waiting when I reached his house on the predetermined date and I went on to stay at his place until I managed to find accommodation elsewhere after a couple of months.
There were no decent drinking holes here in Seremban except for a couple of Chinese joints that I was not particularly keen on. I loved the ones with western décor. They were more appealing to me. And I also detested loud music as well as those outlets that use women to lure in their customers. All these were unimportant. I preferred the ones that played soft sentimental music in the background, with a conducive and pleasant ambience where I could spend a couple of hours downing my favourite brew. There were many of such joints in PJ and KL but not in Seremban..
So on most weekends, I’ll just take a drive in my company car to PJ for my pints. The Seremban-KL highway was convenient. It had just been completed and commissioned then and tolls had not been imposed as yet. It used to take me only 30 minutes to reach Jalan Gasing in PJ to my favourite getaway called Woodlands, managed by one Mr. Bala. I’d usually go alone, sometimes with Raymond. At other times, Shereen my new found good friend will be in tow. Otherwise I’m usually alone. I’d have some nice beers up until they close the pub and drive back after that, the return journey lasting even lesser than 30 minutes. This was routine and the regulars at Woodlands know that. Bala, who sometimes joined me for a drink, had often advised me not to drive back after the binge……but I wouldn’t listen. I always drove back.
During one of those days when I was returning well past midnight, as I entered the Seremban exit from the highway and was headed towards the town, I noticed a white figure, waiting at the junction, waving at me to stop! The exit was not like how it is today. There was no toll to start with; so once you reach the point along the KL-Seremban highway where it shows ‘Seremban exit’, you just drive out of the highway and head towards the town that was located about 3 or 4 km away, lined all the way with rubber trees.
For a moment, I was stunned cold! I revved up and disappeared from the scene as fast as I could, not even looking into my rear view mirror. The next day, I discussed this with some colleagues but no one seemed to have had any similar experience so I left it at that and went about my life. After this incident, on another night when I was returning from my drinking spree in PJ, I saw this figure along the exit again. This time I noticed clearly that it actually seemed to be smiling at me, waving at me to stop! Cold sweat gushed down as once again I sped away! Thereafter, for a while, I took the old road back to Seremban to avoid the bizarre encounter.
A couple of months later, one day I had had one too many and summoning up as much courage as my youthful spirit allowed (pardon the pun), I decided that I’d return via the Seremban highway again. I was still fully conscious of what to expect as I got off at the highway. I looked at the clock on my dashboard and noticed that it was well past midnight! As I made that dreaded final turn, sure enough there was this same figure in white waving at me. This time, in my state of inebriation, I threw caution to the wind and decided that I will stop to check and “shame the devil” in the process (pardon the pun again). I was sick of this constant harassment! I screeched to a halt and looked in the rear view mirror. The angle at which the car came to a stop didn’t allow me a good view of its legs to see if it was floating towards me or was in fact walking, since they say spirits don’t have legs, but I noticed that it was fast approaching me. At that second, I was terrified and froze! Realizing the foolhardiness of my decision, I slammed down the accelerator but……….Holy cow! The bloody car wouldn’t move! It was then that I noticed the engine had died. The timing had been giving me problems for sometime now but “what a time to die off on me” I cursed. Just as I attempted to turn the key to the ignition again, the figure had reached the side of the passenger door and was tapping on the window gesturing for me to wind down. I pretended not to notice and ignored it when all of a sudden, it opened the door! I shut my eyes tight as my heart missed a few beats, holding my breath……overcome by fear! “Can you give me a lift to town please” it asked.
I peeked through my fingers while slowly opening my eyes and noticed it appeared to have dark features. I tried discretely to look down at its feet to ascertain if there were legs, when the voice continued “I just got a lift from an Express Bus headed to JB and got off at the junction. I work as a Band-boy in KL, you see….and there is no other transport back after work at this hour. That’s why I take the bus and get off at the highway". I gave him a blank look, bewildered and half dazed, totally terrified when he continued, “Hi! I’m Edmond by the way......May I.....?”.
“Ohhhh!.....” I exclaimed! “Ya! Ya! Come in!…Come in! My name is Ravi! Nice to meet you. Come in…..No problem…..What are friends for anyway!” I blabbered, trying to conceal my embarrassment in misunderstanding the whole situation.
During the drive back into town as we exchanged pleasantries, I couldn’t help but muse to myself at the thoughts of this 'Bandboy in the dark.………. attired fully in white', as I quietly took out my handkerchief to wipe the cold sweat off my neck!
There were no decent drinking holes here in Seremban except for a couple of Chinese joints that I was not particularly keen on. I loved the ones with western décor. They were more appealing to me. And I also detested loud music as well as those outlets that use women to lure in their customers. All these were unimportant. I preferred the ones that played soft sentimental music in the background, with a conducive and pleasant ambience where I could spend a couple of hours downing my favourite brew. There were many of such joints in PJ and KL but not in Seremban..
So on most weekends, I’ll just take a drive in my company car to PJ for my pints. The Seremban-KL highway was convenient. It had just been completed and commissioned then and tolls had not been imposed as yet. It used to take me only 30 minutes to reach Jalan Gasing in PJ to my favourite getaway called Woodlands, managed by one Mr. Bala. I’d usually go alone, sometimes with Raymond. At other times, Shereen my new found good friend will be in tow. Otherwise I’m usually alone. I’d have some nice beers up until they close the pub and drive back after that, the return journey lasting even lesser than 30 minutes. This was routine and the regulars at Woodlands know that. Bala, who sometimes joined me for a drink, had often advised me not to drive back after the binge……but I wouldn’t listen. I always drove back.
During one of those days when I was returning well past midnight, as I entered the Seremban exit from the highway and was headed towards the town, I noticed a white figure, waiting at the junction, waving at me to stop! The exit was not like how it is today. There was no toll to start with; so once you reach the point along the KL-Seremban highway where it shows ‘Seremban exit’, you just drive out of the highway and head towards the town that was located about 3 or 4 km away, lined all the way with rubber trees.
For a moment, I was stunned cold! I revved up and disappeared from the scene as fast as I could, not even looking into my rear view mirror. The next day, I discussed this with some colleagues but no one seemed to have had any similar experience so I left it at that and went about my life. After this incident, on another night when I was returning from my drinking spree in PJ, I saw this figure along the exit again. This time I noticed clearly that it actually seemed to be smiling at me, waving at me to stop! Cold sweat gushed down as once again I sped away! Thereafter, for a while, I took the old road back to Seremban to avoid the bizarre encounter.
A couple of months later, one day I had had one too many and summoning up as much courage as my youthful spirit allowed (pardon the pun), I decided that I’d return via the Seremban highway again. I was still fully conscious of what to expect as I got off at the highway. I looked at the clock on my dashboard and noticed that it was well past midnight! As I made that dreaded final turn, sure enough there was this same figure in white waving at me. This time, in my state of inebriation, I threw caution to the wind and decided that I will stop to check and “shame the devil” in the process (pardon the pun again). I was sick of this constant harassment! I screeched to a halt and looked in the rear view mirror. The angle at which the car came to a stop didn’t allow me a good view of its legs to see if it was floating towards me or was in fact walking, since they say spirits don’t have legs, but I noticed that it was fast approaching me. At that second, I was terrified and froze! Realizing the foolhardiness of my decision, I slammed down the accelerator but……….Holy cow! The bloody car wouldn’t move! It was then that I noticed the engine had died. The timing had been giving me problems for sometime now but “what a time to die off on me” I cursed. Just as I attempted to turn the key to the ignition again, the figure had reached the side of the passenger door and was tapping on the window gesturing for me to wind down. I pretended not to notice and ignored it when all of a sudden, it opened the door! I shut my eyes tight as my heart missed a few beats, holding my breath……overcome by fear! “Can you give me a lift to town please” it asked.
I peeked through my fingers while slowly opening my eyes and noticed it appeared to have dark features. I tried discretely to look down at its feet to ascertain if there were legs, when the voice continued “I just got a lift from an Express Bus headed to JB and got off at the junction. I work as a Band-boy in KL, you see….and there is no other transport back after work at this hour. That’s why I take the bus and get off at the highway". I gave him a blank look, bewildered and half dazed, totally terrified when he continued, “Hi! I’m Edmond by the way......May I.....?”.
“Ohhhh!.....” I exclaimed! “Ya! Ya! Come in!…Come in! My name is Ravi! Nice to meet you. Come in…..No problem…..What are friends for anyway!” I blabbered, trying to conceal my embarrassment in misunderstanding the whole situation.
During the drive back into town as we exchanged pleasantries, I couldn’t help but muse to myself at the thoughts of this 'Bandboy in the dark.………. attired fully in white', as I quietly took out my handkerchief to wipe the cold sweat off my neck!
Thursday, October 29, 2009
The Hitch Hiker
It was during the 2nd term school holidays in the year 1974 when I was doing my Form 6 in JB. Having been away from my family in Butterworth for a while now, I was feeling homesick and wanted to make a trip back. Managing on a tight budget did not accord me the luxury of normal travel so I decided that I will hitchhike back. Once the plan was hatched, Frederick another one of my friend’s cousin who was to return to his hometown in Seremban, agreed to join me. I had only met Frederick once or twice before but he was a pleasant kid in his lower secondary.
We met up quite early on the day of the trip and took a bus out to Kulai town as hitching a ride from JB wouldn’t have been possible with its heavy traffic. Moreover, people wouldn’t know where you were headed to. Once we reached Kulai, we walked a short distance until we were away from the town proper en-route north. Kulai was undeveloped then with only a row of pre-war buildings forming the main township surrounded by rubber plantations. There were not many housing estates fringing the town like how it is now. From there, we waited under some rubber trees with our thumb sticking out, waving to passing vehicles, with a confident look and an artificial smile. We had to look pleasant and decent as those were the days of wayside robberies and there had indeed been such incidents, though more rampant overseas than here. We had hardly waited for half an hour when a 10 ton lorry pulled up. The Indian driver asked where we were headed to and offered to give us a lift, asking us to climb onto the back into the cargo section. The tarpaulin had been rolled up so it made the ride breezy and exciting with a full view of the surroundings as the vehicle made its way north through traffic along the only trunk road then. Along the way, I got to improve on the acquaintance with Frederick. He brought along a periscope that we used to view distant objects and smiled at people in over-taking vehicles as they passed us. The blistering afternoon sun didn’t discourage us from proudly giving clearance when the coast was clear by gesturing to tailing vehicles to overtake. It was immensely satisfying especially when some drivers acknowledged by waving back at us when they overtook. After a while, we just sat down in the empty carriage and spoke of anything that came to mind. Frederick was young…….younger than me at least and I remember he asked a lot of questions. I answered every one of them with what little I knew but I think he got the answers he wanted.
After travelling for about 4 hours or so, we finally reached the Seremban Railway Station. The initial plan was for Frederick to get off and I was to continue to KL where the lorry was headed to but Frederick encouraged me to spend a day or two at his place to which I agreed. We got off and thanked the driver before walking towards the Lake Gardens where he said his house was. I was still wondering what kind of a house it would be…..was it a terrace or a kampong styled house or what? I didn’t have that much exposure with people living in bigger houses. As we made our way up a meandering slope, there was a sign along the road that read “X.A.Nicholas”. Frederick said that it was his Dad’s name and challenged me to guess what “X.A” stood for. Coincidentally, I guessed it correctly in my first attempt as “Xavier” and…………. “Alexander”. He was astonished and asked if I had heard of his Dad before to which I replied in the negative. He said his Dad was with the police. The only other policeman whom I had ever met in my lifetime until then was a police inspector who lived next door to my rented house (room) in JB who had helped me once in an incident. Other than him, I didn’t know anyone else. So when I was told that his Dad was from the police, I really couldn’t imagine anything extraordinary. Once we reached his house, that I noticed was a palatial government bungalow, he introduced me to his brother and his mum who offered me a drink and in no time, made me comfortable. I looked around the house and was impressed with the range of branded up-market electrical gadgets……a tape recorder playing songs from a oversized reel impressed me. It’s not the type that you find in an ordinary household.
Soon after when I was seated in the hall, I heard sirens screaming from police vehicles and looked out to see a couple of patrol cars approaching the house, flanked by out-riders. I didn’t have the slightest inkling of what to expect. Upon reaching the porch, a policeman got out from the front seat and opened the back door for someone in full police regalia, to alight, as the cops gave him a stiff salute. As he entered the hall, he smiled and gave Frederick a hug, who then introduced me to him saying, “Appa, this is my friend Ravi from JB with whom I hitchhiked up”. His dad shook hands with me, enquiring briefly about me before walking in. It was then that Frederick’s brother told me that he was the number one Cop in Negeri Sembilan, the Chief Police Officer (CPO) to be exact! Wow! Never had I before the opportunity to even say hello to people from high places so naturally I felt intimidated for a while until Fred’s brother took me up to his room and made me feel at ease. I went on to stay another 2 days here during which time I forged a close relationship with Fred and his brother who would drive me around in his dad’s Jaguar Sovereign, making me sit in front while Fred sat behind. During those moments, I felt really proud. A couple of times we stopped by at the Lake Gardens and he would buy me beer. As I was not much of a drinker then, I usually stopped after just one. I slept with him in his room while Fred slept with his parents. I guessed as he was the youngest, he still got to enjoy all the pampering. It was the first time I has come across a digital watch. This was the beginning of the digital era. Until then I had seen only analogue watches. So I was fascinated when Fred’s brother showed me his new digital watch and demonstrated how the alarm worked, after I wondered albeit a bit too loudly if it was capable of fulfilling its purpose of waking people up. I then realized that although the sound of the alarm was faint, it was actually shrill and of high pitch that was capable of waking anybody up.
On the 3rd day, it was time to bid farewell to Fred and his lovely family and managed to get a ride from another one of their friends who was headed to KL who had dropped by for breakfast that morning. I then got off at Jalan Pudu where I met my brother-in-law in his office who eventually gave me a lift back to my hometown where I spent the next 2 weeks before returning to JB by train.
I had not met Frederick again after the hitch-hiking trip as, soon after my return to JB, I had to pack up and leave town once again to return to my hometown after my brother’s untimely demise. So that was the end of Fred and I…..or so I thought.
One hot Sunday afternoon in the year 2002, 28 years later to be precise, I was in FMS Coffee House in Ipoh seated at the long bar enjoying a nice chilled beer while chatting with the owner who goes by the name of ‘Nephew’ (his uncle started the place during colonial days when he was a kid and he was often referred to then as the uncle’s ‘nephew’. The name stuck since then). There was a boisterous group of three seated at the other side of the bar and I have this habit of avoiding eye contact especially with other drinkers so as not to be accused of ‘staring’, an excuse that is often enough for uncouth characters in their inebriated state to start arguments. But it turned out something different today. While engaged in the conversation with ‘nephew’, I couldn’t help listening to and thereupon recognizing a particular voice from the group; so I turned to see if it was indeed the person I thought who it was. And sure enough it was Lingam, a friend from Butterworth whom I had lost contact for over 30 years. We exchanged pleasantries and he introduced me to his 2 other friends seated with him after which I too joined in their conversation. Earlier when he introduced me, I didn’t quite get their names but during the session, I heard one of them referring to the other as “Fred” once too often and began to wonder if this could in fact be the same person from JB. He appeared much older now with a receding hairline and I could not make him out at all. In fact I had shrugged off the very thought of clearing my doubt as being wishful and too far fetched. “Meeting 2 long lost friends in 1 day only happens in movies” I thought. But after a while just to quench my curiosity, I looked at him in his eyes and asked “Would you by any chance happen to be Fred Nicholas?” He gave me a surprised look trying to figure who I was, before blurting out, “As a matter of fact, I am! I am Frederick Nicholas!” he said.
I simply couldn’t believe it! It was too good to be true! After a few anxious moments, I gathered myself and introduced myself to him again, recalling the days in JB and about the hitch-hiking trip. He was lost for words…..especially when I spoke of the trip. As he got up and gave me a long hug, I thought that time stood still for a while. Excitement was written all over his face as he related to his friends of how immensely he had enjoyed the trip…..of how his somewhat ‘aristocratic’ upbringing had deprived him of such worldly teenage pursuits…and how I had been instrumental in providing him with the adventure of his lifetime! He said that many a time, he had thought about me but didn’t know that I had left town and surely didn’t know how to contact me……and had slowly resigned to the fact that he was not going to be able to meet me again. Tonight, after so long, I made his day as he vehemently invited me over to the Royal Ipoh Club located just adjacent to FMS where he insisted that I must meet up with his wife and all his other friends who were there that night. Once there, he introduced me and in fact, short of parading me, narrated to his friends about his hitch-hiking experience. I could see that they were all very happy for him. I later learnt that he had related to them about the experience previously and had often fondly spoken of the role that I had played and about being unable to locate me. It was a joyous atmosphere in the club that night. They were all in a celebrative mood. As far as Frederick was concerned, it had been the greatest adventure of his youth……! He had never once forgotten about it and it had been at the back of his mind for so long. That night…..I was happy to realize that I had been part of his unforgettable experience……for having been able to touch his life……..and thereby add some colour!
Mr. Frederick was a successful lawyer in Ipoh when I bumped into him in 2002 but has since been accorded due recognition and elevated as an Industrial Court President in KL. We still keep in touch.
We met up quite early on the day of the trip and took a bus out to Kulai town as hitching a ride from JB wouldn’t have been possible with its heavy traffic. Moreover, people wouldn’t know where you were headed to. Once we reached Kulai, we walked a short distance until we were away from the town proper en-route north. Kulai was undeveloped then with only a row of pre-war buildings forming the main township surrounded by rubber plantations. There were not many housing estates fringing the town like how it is now. From there, we waited under some rubber trees with our thumb sticking out, waving to passing vehicles, with a confident look and an artificial smile. We had to look pleasant and decent as those were the days of wayside robberies and there had indeed been such incidents, though more rampant overseas than here. We had hardly waited for half an hour when a 10 ton lorry pulled up. The Indian driver asked where we were headed to and offered to give us a lift, asking us to climb onto the back into the cargo section. The tarpaulin had been rolled up so it made the ride breezy and exciting with a full view of the surroundings as the vehicle made its way north through traffic along the only trunk road then. Along the way, I got to improve on the acquaintance with Frederick. He brought along a periscope that we used to view distant objects and smiled at people in over-taking vehicles as they passed us. The blistering afternoon sun didn’t discourage us from proudly giving clearance when the coast was clear by gesturing to tailing vehicles to overtake. It was immensely satisfying especially when some drivers acknowledged by waving back at us when they overtook. After a while, we just sat down in the empty carriage and spoke of anything that came to mind. Frederick was young…….younger than me at least and I remember he asked a lot of questions. I answered every one of them with what little I knew but I think he got the answers he wanted.
After travelling for about 4 hours or so, we finally reached the Seremban Railway Station. The initial plan was for Frederick to get off and I was to continue to KL where the lorry was headed to but Frederick encouraged me to spend a day or two at his place to which I agreed. We got off and thanked the driver before walking towards the Lake Gardens where he said his house was. I was still wondering what kind of a house it would be…..was it a terrace or a kampong styled house or what? I didn’t have that much exposure with people living in bigger houses. As we made our way up a meandering slope, there was a sign along the road that read “X.A.Nicholas”. Frederick said that it was his Dad’s name and challenged me to guess what “X.A” stood for. Coincidentally, I guessed it correctly in my first attempt as “Xavier” and…………. “Alexander”. He was astonished and asked if I had heard of his Dad before to which I replied in the negative. He said his Dad was with the police. The only other policeman whom I had ever met in my lifetime until then was a police inspector who lived next door to my rented house (room) in JB who had helped me once in an incident. Other than him, I didn’t know anyone else. So when I was told that his Dad was from the police, I really couldn’t imagine anything extraordinary. Once we reached his house, that I noticed was a palatial government bungalow, he introduced me to his brother and his mum who offered me a drink and in no time, made me comfortable. I looked around the house and was impressed with the range of branded up-market electrical gadgets……a tape recorder playing songs from a oversized reel impressed me. It’s not the type that you find in an ordinary household.
Soon after when I was seated in the hall, I heard sirens screaming from police vehicles and looked out to see a couple of patrol cars approaching the house, flanked by out-riders. I didn’t have the slightest inkling of what to expect. Upon reaching the porch, a policeman got out from the front seat and opened the back door for someone in full police regalia, to alight, as the cops gave him a stiff salute. As he entered the hall, he smiled and gave Frederick a hug, who then introduced me to him saying, “Appa, this is my friend Ravi from JB with whom I hitchhiked up”. His dad shook hands with me, enquiring briefly about me before walking in. It was then that Frederick’s brother told me that he was the number one Cop in Negeri Sembilan, the Chief Police Officer (CPO) to be exact! Wow! Never had I before the opportunity to even say hello to people from high places so naturally I felt intimidated for a while until Fred’s brother took me up to his room and made me feel at ease. I went on to stay another 2 days here during which time I forged a close relationship with Fred and his brother who would drive me around in his dad’s Jaguar Sovereign, making me sit in front while Fred sat behind. During those moments, I felt really proud. A couple of times we stopped by at the Lake Gardens and he would buy me beer. As I was not much of a drinker then, I usually stopped after just one. I slept with him in his room while Fred slept with his parents. I guessed as he was the youngest, he still got to enjoy all the pampering. It was the first time I has come across a digital watch. This was the beginning of the digital era. Until then I had seen only analogue watches. So I was fascinated when Fred’s brother showed me his new digital watch and demonstrated how the alarm worked, after I wondered albeit a bit too loudly if it was capable of fulfilling its purpose of waking people up. I then realized that although the sound of the alarm was faint, it was actually shrill and of high pitch that was capable of waking anybody up.
On the 3rd day, it was time to bid farewell to Fred and his lovely family and managed to get a ride from another one of their friends who was headed to KL who had dropped by for breakfast that morning. I then got off at Jalan Pudu where I met my brother-in-law in his office who eventually gave me a lift back to my hometown where I spent the next 2 weeks before returning to JB by train.
I had not met Frederick again after the hitch-hiking trip as, soon after my return to JB, I had to pack up and leave town once again to return to my hometown after my brother’s untimely demise. So that was the end of Fred and I…..or so I thought.
One hot Sunday afternoon in the year 2002, 28 years later to be precise, I was in FMS Coffee House in Ipoh seated at the long bar enjoying a nice chilled beer while chatting with the owner who goes by the name of ‘Nephew’ (his uncle started the place during colonial days when he was a kid and he was often referred to then as the uncle’s ‘nephew’. The name stuck since then). There was a boisterous group of three seated at the other side of the bar and I have this habit of avoiding eye contact especially with other drinkers so as not to be accused of ‘staring’, an excuse that is often enough for uncouth characters in their inebriated state to start arguments. But it turned out something different today. While engaged in the conversation with ‘nephew’, I couldn’t help listening to and thereupon recognizing a particular voice from the group; so I turned to see if it was indeed the person I thought who it was. And sure enough it was Lingam, a friend from Butterworth whom I had lost contact for over 30 years. We exchanged pleasantries and he introduced me to his 2 other friends seated with him after which I too joined in their conversation. Earlier when he introduced me, I didn’t quite get their names but during the session, I heard one of them referring to the other as “Fred” once too often and began to wonder if this could in fact be the same person from JB. He appeared much older now with a receding hairline and I could not make him out at all. In fact I had shrugged off the very thought of clearing my doubt as being wishful and too far fetched. “Meeting 2 long lost friends in 1 day only happens in movies” I thought. But after a while just to quench my curiosity, I looked at him in his eyes and asked “Would you by any chance happen to be Fred Nicholas?” He gave me a surprised look trying to figure who I was, before blurting out, “As a matter of fact, I am! I am Frederick Nicholas!” he said.
I simply couldn’t believe it! It was too good to be true! After a few anxious moments, I gathered myself and introduced myself to him again, recalling the days in JB and about the hitch-hiking trip. He was lost for words…..especially when I spoke of the trip. As he got up and gave me a long hug, I thought that time stood still for a while. Excitement was written all over his face as he related to his friends of how immensely he had enjoyed the trip…..of how his somewhat ‘aristocratic’ upbringing had deprived him of such worldly teenage pursuits…and how I had been instrumental in providing him with the adventure of his lifetime! He said that many a time, he had thought about me but didn’t know that I had left town and surely didn’t know how to contact me……and had slowly resigned to the fact that he was not going to be able to meet me again. Tonight, after so long, I made his day as he vehemently invited me over to the Royal Ipoh Club located just adjacent to FMS where he insisted that I must meet up with his wife and all his other friends who were there that night. Once there, he introduced me and in fact, short of parading me, narrated to his friends about his hitch-hiking experience. I could see that they were all very happy for him. I later learnt that he had related to them about the experience previously and had often fondly spoken of the role that I had played and about being unable to locate me. It was a joyous atmosphere in the club that night. They were all in a celebrative mood. As far as Frederick was concerned, it had been the greatest adventure of his youth……! He had never once forgotten about it and it had been at the back of his mind for so long. That night…..I was happy to realize that I had been part of his unforgettable experience……for having been able to touch his life……..and thereby add some colour!
Mr. Frederick was a successful lawyer in Ipoh when I bumped into him in 2002 but has since been accorded due recognition and elevated as an Industrial Court President in KL. We still keep in touch.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Penang Hill Bungalow Camp 1975
(Back row from Left to Right: Jalil, Sargu, Imbaraj, Aravind, Akbar, Hari. Front row from Left to Right : Zuriah, Catherine, Muna,Ismail's gf, Amitha, Mala.Pls click on picture for enlarged version).
The year was 1975 and I was working as a Trainee HA in Kedah. I had known Ismail, a mamak teacher for a couple of months by then. One day he dropped by and in the midst of our conversation, he mentioned that he had a contact through whom it would be possible to book the Raj Bhagwan bungalow located up in Penang Hill belonging to the philanthropist Mr. Arumugam Pillai. On learning of this, I immediately told him to go ahead and make the application while I swung into action in organizing my friends and classmates who were to join me. These were the days when we didn’t have mobile phones or e-mails so I couldn’t get in touch with many of the JACHFRINS boys except those who were in regular contact then.
On the day of the trip, Jalil came with his childhood heart-throb Zuriah (they have since married and now have a happy family), Hari brought Mala who he was mentoring as her athletic coach, the flamboyant Imbaraj brought not only Catherine, the lass from the Batu Ferringhi trip but also another one of his girlfriend Amita, Akbar showed up, so did Muna; and then there were the rest of us namely Sargu, Singh and I. Ismail of course brought along his girlfriend. It was to be a 3 days / 2 nights trip. We gathered in BM and made our way to Air Itam from where we had to catch the funicular train to Penang Hill. Some of us had been up the hill on numerous occasions; in fact we had even hiked up a couple of times. The scene as the train lazily drags itself up the steep slope is spectacular……simply breathtaking. The tracks are built on deep ravines but should any cable snap for any reason whatsoever, they have a safety latch that is immediately triggered that would prevent the tram from rolling down. The air gets steadily cooler as you gradually climb higher, finally reaching the top station after about 30 minutes or so. From there we asked around and took a short walk to the magnificent bungalow, situated on a small hillock with wide acres of greens dotted with rows of flower plants that is unique to the highlands. It really looked majestic!
Upon reaching the front door, we were told by the gardener that the caretaker had gone out for a while and was expected back at any time. Hearing this, I thought I will just scout around the nearby places and got Mala, with whom I had already become close during the journey from BM, to follow me. It was just a short walk and when we reached a small park, we sat down and engaged in a lengthy conversation. I cannot remember what we spoke about but I suppose it must have been interesting as we lost track of time and only returned to the bungalow after close to an hour. Hari who was instrumental in getting her parents approval to allow her to come was naturally displeased with me. In fact he was so upset that he punched and broke the cupboard in one of the rooms. I later learnt that Sargu and Singh were the ones who had provoked him by planting unsavory thoughts into him while we were away. Any doubt as to who was Mala’s preferred candidate was soon settled when she outwardly displayed her allegiance and affection towards me thereby ending all ambiguity. Hari, though disappointed, relented in good faith.
Later in the evening Singh and Sargu had run through Hari’s bag and found a condom in it. Hari had come prepared for such eventualities in case he got lucky with someone, little realizing his limitations in that area of expertise. Singh filled up the condom with water until it formed the shape of a large brinjal and put it back in his bag. Later as we were discussing something else, Singh asked him what he will do if he succeeded with one of the girls. He proudly claimed that he had come prepared for such developments and immediately went to his bag to show the condom that he had brought along. Unzipping the bag, he put his hand in but being unable to find it, he started to take out the clothing one by one and put them outside including the bloated condom without realizing what it was……still searching in the bag! We all burst out laughing!
We had a party that night on the first floor. I remember the lights were switched off to create and encourage a romantic feeling………. only to be switched on again……and again…… to catch the smoochers off-guard! I remember Imbaraj kept coming back to me because one of the girls was trying to get fresh with him and he didn’t know the art of kissing. I articulated to him with hand gestures……I think. That night after the party while the rest of the group occupied the many rooms upstairs, Imbaraj and I decided to sleep in the large hall downstairs with 2 of the girls for company. We used the extreme cold as an excuse to huddle together. Except for the glow from the heated up coils of the electric radiator, everything else was pitch dark, opening up new horizons of opportunity for us to explore (pun intended). We were young…naïve….curious…..at an experimental stage of life. And being such, it felt nice ‘falling’ in love, being able to call someone your ‘own’. And to be able to improve on your otherwise underutilized sense……the sense of touch. Being in love is not just a feeling….its a state of being…..there is a difference between just ‘feeling’ the feeling and being actively involved in the dimension. It’s a fantastic feeling.
As fatigue engulfed us midway through this rare ‘mystical’ night, we decided that it was time to call it a day when out of the blues….with no prior warning, we heard footsteps of someone walking down…..slowly, step by step….stopping right at our door. We cuddled up tightly together, quite certain that everyone else were asleep. There was something spooky about the whole thing and I was beginning to sweat in that cold night with my imagination playing havoc. But I couldn’t outwardly display such emotions…not tonight with a damsel in tow. I probably would have screamed if the door had opened but fortunately it did not. We found out the next morning that no one had walked down the stairs at that hour. There was no reason to. A creepy feeling overwhelmed us……!
The next morning understandably we woke up late and were all having our breakfast when the caretaker came running to break the news of the impending and untimely arrival of the owner Mr. Arumugam Pillai who was headed to the bungalow for an unscheduled weekend retreat. It broke our hearts but we rejoiced at the wonderful time that we had during the relatively short space of time…..and still cherish those moments to this day.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Batu Ferringhi Bungalow Camp 1973
I remember we were very excited about the bungalow camp especially since it was to be a farewell of sorts after our MCE exams. Mr. Vasu about whom I had mentioned in my earlier post had arranged not only the bungalow but he had also arranged for the caretaker to cook the meals for us that evening. Imbaraj had estimated that it will cost about RM15.00 per head in expenses so we managed to come up with it and passed it to him to manage. It was only much later after the trip that he let us in into a secret……..that he and his brother didn’t have to pay a single cent! Jalil, Singh, Chan, his girlfriend Catherine, Nazir, Hari, Imbaraj and I made it for the trip. Later at night Sargu and Thillai joined us. Hari’s brother Karthik dropped by for a while. The other two members of the JACHFRINS fame namely Farid and Radzi didn’t join us and I really cannot recall why.
When we arrived at the bungalow, we found that it was a three roomed stand alone unit with a large compound fronting the sea at Batu Feringghi, Penang with the privilege of private access to the beach providing an expansive view of the Indian ocean. There were not many bungalows along the stretch then and the area was a paradise with its natural landscape of swaying palms fringing the virgin coastline, clear and untouched with the waters crystal clear and pristine adding a touch of romance to its beauty. Except for the occasional hoot of a distant boat or the rare rev from an unseen passing vehicle snaking through the winding roads through unspoilt forest-reserve, the atmosphere was otherwise exceptionally quiet, soothing, admirably silent…….peaceful…..rejuvenating even. This was my first experience out with friends on an overnight stay and I cherished every moment of my new found freedom. We were young then…..and carefree, not a care for the real world out there. We didn’t have to. During this occasion at least, our world revolved only around the 9 or 10 of us. That was all that mattered. We lived for the day……..one at a time…unhurried…..at our own pace…..as if everything else can wait.
We did engage in some basic cooking but my memory fails me as to who steered it after the caretaker, on the 1st night……it could have been either Jalil, Nazir or Hari……or was it Catherine? It surely couldn’t have been Imbaraj or Singh as the kitchen is the last place you can expect to find them in. I’m not too sure of who exactly did the cooking after the 1st day but faint images of freshly cooked salt-less sardines, roughly cut sandwiches, overcooked eggs and burnt sausages seem to linger past my memory archive. We spent the 1st night sitting in the hall and with only 1 girl in tow, that too as Chan’s girlfriend, I remember we were all trying to impress her. Those sharing the same couch with her told ghost stories in the hope that they might get to cuddle her if they could succeed in scaring her, foolishly disregarding the fact that Chan was always by her side. When none of it worked, we retired to our rooms sometime in the early hours past midnight. (It will be interesting to note that this lass went on to later join us on our 2nd bungalow trip 2 years later ….and this time not with Chan but as one of the other JACHFRIN member’s new love interest about which I shall not divulge much……….. except perhaps to say that his name starts with a vowel and it surely wasn’t me! Some secrets must be kept. After all that’s what friendship is all about.......No?).
After allowing Chan and Catherine the privacy of a room all to themselves, the rest of us went to our room to play strip poker among us….conspiring to play a prank on Hari. We manipulated from start to finish and made him lose every game that in no time saw him reduced to his tattered briefs whereupon we made him roll on the icy floor. He virtually squirmed and growled while he rolled in the by-now chilled room and we wouldn’t allow him to get up until he reached the end of the room……..it might have been 'sadistic' but Hari was always a sport……he didn’t complain and we ended up with a good laugh!
It was unfortunate that I could not stay the full 2 nights as when I woke up, I had to bid goodbye to my still half-asleep friends as I was to follow my sister and family on a holiday to JB. I took the bus back, reaching my house in Butterworth by about 10, only to be told that the trip had been postponed to the next day. Hearing this, I was at first disappointed...... but it slowly turned to joy when I realized that I could go back and spend one more day with my friends. I really wanted to. But I didn’t have enough money for the fare to reach Batu Feringghi. Then I remembered the ferry fare by bicycle costs only 50 cents! I hurriedly gathered the required change from various points in the house and started my trip to the bungalow. I roughly knew its location and the distance from the mainland but I was determined to join my friends. It took me about 2 hours of cycling to reach the bungalow through winding and narrow roads in the midday sun. But I finally made it! My friends who had not expected me back were naturally surprised and overjoyed to see me…….and so we continued with the merriment. We spent some time playing in the sand and sea in the evening, then watched the sun slowly fade away lazily into the horizon. It was a sight to behold.
Once again I had to leave early the next morning and I cycled all the way back to Butterworth and reached just in time to join my sister for the trip to JB, a story that will be told another day.
(This story is dedicated to my friend (and relative) Mr. Vasu who made the adventure possible with his kind gesture of obtaining the holiday bungalow for us….….and who unfortunately now lies bed-ridden as a result of a recent stroke).
When we arrived at the bungalow, we found that it was a three roomed stand alone unit with a large compound fronting the sea at Batu Feringghi, Penang with the privilege of private access to the beach providing an expansive view of the Indian ocean. There were not many bungalows along the stretch then and the area was a paradise with its natural landscape of swaying palms fringing the virgin coastline, clear and untouched with the waters crystal clear and pristine adding a touch of romance to its beauty. Except for the occasional hoot of a distant boat or the rare rev from an unseen passing vehicle snaking through the winding roads through unspoilt forest-reserve, the atmosphere was otherwise exceptionally quiet, soothing, admirably silent…….peaceful…..rejuvenating even. This was my first experience out with friends on an overnight stay and I cherished every moment of my new found freedom. We were young then…..and carefree, not a care for the real world out there. We didn’t have to. During this occasion at least, our world revolved only around the 9 or 10 of us. That was all that mattered. We lived for the day……..one at a time…unhurried…..at our own pace…..as if everything else can wait.
We did engage in some basic cooking but my memory fails me as to who steered it after the caretaker, on the 1st night……it could have been either Jalil, Nazir or Hari……or was it Catherine? It surely couldn’t have been Imbaraj or Singh as the kitchen is the last place you can expect to find them in. I’m not too sure of who exactly did the cooking after the 1st day but faint images of freshly cooked salt-less sardines, roughly cut sandwiches, overcooked eggs and burnt sausages seem to linger past my memory archive. We spent the 1st night sitting in the hall and with only 1 girl in tow, that too as Chan’s girlfriend, I remember we were all trying to impress her. Those sharing the same couch with her told ghost stories in the hope that they might get to cuddle her if they could succeed in scaring her, foolishly disregarding the fact that Chan was always by her side. When none of it worked, we retired to our rooms sometime in the early hours past midnight. (It will be interesting to note that this lass went on to later join us on our 2nd bungalow trip 2 years later ….and this time not with Chan but as one of the other JACHFRIN member’s new love interest about which I shall not divulge much……….. except perhaps to say that his name starts with a vowel and it surely wasn’t me! Some secrets must be kept. After all that’s what friendship is all about.......No?).
After allowing Chan and Catherine the privacy of a room all to themselves, the rest of us went to our room to play strip poker among us….conspiring to play a prank on Hari. We manipulated from start to finish and made him lose every game that in no time saw him reduced to his tattered briefs whereupon we made him roll on the icy floor. He virtually squirmed and growled while he rolled in the by-now chilled room and we wouldn’t allow him to get up until he reached the end of the room……..it might have been 'sadistic' but Hari was always a sport……he didn’t complain and we ended up with a good laugh!
It was unfortunate that I could not stay the full 2 nights as when I woke up, I had to bid goodbye to my still half-asleep friends as I was to follow my sister and family on a holiday to JB. I took the bus back, reaching my house in Butterworth by about 10, only to be told that the trip had been postponed to the next day. Hearing this, I was at first disappointed...... but it slowly turned to joy when I realized that I could go back and spend one more day with my friends. I really wanted to. But I didn’t have enough money for the fare to reach Batu Feringghi. Then I remembered the ferry fare by bicycle costs only 50 cents! I hurriedly gathered the required change from various points in the house and started my trip to the bungalow. I roughly knew its location and the distance from the mainland but I was determined to join my friends. It took me about 2 hours of cycling to reach the bungalow through winding and narrow roads in the midday sun. But I finally made it! My friends who had not expected me back were naturally surprised and overjoyed to see me…….and so we continued with the merriment. We spent some time playing in the sand and sea in the evening, then watched the sun slowly fade away lazily into the horizon. It was a sight to behold.
Once again I had to leave early the next morning and I cycled all the way back to Butterworth and reached just in time to join my sister for the trip to JB, a story that will be told another day.
(This story is dedicated to my friend (and relative) Mr. Vasu who made the adventure possible with his kind gesture of obtaining the holiday bungalow for us….….and who unfortunately now lies bed-ridden as a result of a recent stroke).
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Values of Yesteryears
It was the year 1965 and I was in Standard 2 in St. Marks Primary in Butterworth in the afternoon session. After walking for about a mile from my house in Jalan Kampung Bengali, I finally reached the school. Then even the midday sun wasn’t as hot as it is these days. I had just about entered the school compound when I found a 20 cents coin on the ground. Twenty cents those days was big money for a kid. It could buy him “4 ice-kapai” or 2 coned ice cream and things like that. My pocket money was only 5 cents then so twenty cents would have made a significant difference to my life in the school that fateful day.
However, I have been indoctrinated from an early age that you should not retain anything that is not yours. With that in mind, I went over to the office and handed over the shilling to a teacher who was there who then recorded my details before accepting the coin. I then went back to my class.
After a while, the school office-boy came with a note apparently from the Head-Master Mr. Robert David that I later learnt was addressed to the class teachers asking each of them to make an announcement to the class to find out if anyone had lost any money that day. When no one in my class admitted to having lost anything, he went on his way to the next class….and the one after until he had covered all the classes. The answer he had received in each class was the standard “No. No one had lost any money”. So imagine my surprise when towards the end of school the same day, Mr. Robert David came over to my class and handed the 20 cents coin back to me saying that I could keep it as it didn’t appear to belong to anyone from the school. I was elated and treated myself to ice-cream and some tidbits on the way back from school.
Look at the values we had then……about a school that made a concerted effort to return a twenty cents coin to its rightful owner…….and about the HM who took the trouble to return it to the finder. Do these values still exist in us today?
These were the kind of values that kids usually grow up with but sadly along the way to adulthood, much of it is lost in many of them through influence or emulation and they often end up compromised.
However, I have been indoctrinated from an early age that you should not retain anything that is not yours. With that in mind, I went over to the office and handed over the shilling to a teacher who was there who then recorded my details before accepting the coin. I then went back to my class.
After a while, the school office-boy came with a note apparently from the Head-Master Mr. Robert David that I later learnt was addressed to the class teachers asking each of them to make an announcement to the class to find out if anyone had lost any money that day. When no one in my class admitted to having lost anything, he went on his way to the next class….and the one after until he had covered all the classes. The answer he had received in each class was the standard “No. No one had lost any money”. So imagine my surprise when towards the end of school the same day, Mr. Robert David came over to my class and handed the 20 cents coin back to me saying that I could keep it as it didn’t appear to belong to anyone from the school. I was elated and treated myself to ice-cream and some tidbits on the way back from school.
Look at the values we had then……about a school that made a concerted effort to return a twenty cents coin to its rightful owner…….and about the HM who took the trouble to return it to the finder. Do these values still exist in us today?
These were the kind of values that kids usually grow up with but sadly along the way to adulthood, much of it is lost in many of them through influence or emulation and they often end up compromised.
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