Revisiting Twenty Year Old (Lost) Shares

PROLOGUE

Take care of everything that you own. Or else, somebody would enjoy it on your behalf.

In the 90s, I came to know through my uncle that his dad - my Tok Bab - owned a few acres of land in Kuala Kubu Baru. We were sure that the land is worth millions now.  Even if they are not, they would be worth a small fortune.

But with his demise, where would I even start?

Similarly, we know that my maternal grandma also owned a few acres of land in Lenggeng, but who am I to start digging about all these properties? After all, her children - my aunties and uncles - are still alive and they should be the one who would be interested to get their hands on their mother's properties. I am after all, just a grandchildren.

As of now, someone else would be enjoying them.

PETRONAS Shares Twenty years on.

It is with this in mind that I started to dig into my own affairs to ensure my children would not face such dilemma. That everything that I own are known to them and are documented, and they would not have to fight with anybody to enjoy the benefit of the father's labour.

When I was working for an oil company, I was given two lots of an subsidiary that was listed that particular year. It was probably circa 93/94, I don't remember the exact year, to be honest. But soon after, I resigned and moved South, living in JB but working in Singapore.

With the hectic work schedule, and pace, coupled with the long commute, I had no choice but concentrate on my work and forget about the trivial stuff. Then I moved back to KL and later on the family move to Houston.

I have not forgotten about the shares I own, but at RM2.50 a piece, and not seeing them move much, I would prefer to not even think about it. I might as well try to earn more money elsewhere than trying to create a fortune from the small number of shares that I have. I knew the broker firm that I had signed on has long cease operation, and being someone not in the financial industry, I have no clue where to even start.

The shares were in the back of mind. Important, but not critical to my life.

Until early 2015 when I went to an investment seminar at the behest of my partner. While having my tea with a broker, I told him that while I am inactive in shares,  I probably have a couple of thousand shares of Petronas, which I bought at the original price or at discounted staff price.

The broker told me that in Sept 2014, they were worth RM34.00, I am told. A whopping RM34.00 per share, but now it was worth RM16.00.

Really?  I was surprised, and excited. Now I am interested to retrieve my shares. I really am interested. It is worth half of what it was 3 months ago, but still a lot more than what I had paid for them.

Fortunately, the broker at MIB was kind enough to dig as to who took over the operations of my broking firm. A couple of phone calls and a visit to their HQ, the problem is solved. I was given a new account, with my shares intact.

Alhamdulillan, and in the meantime, it is now worth at least RM20.00. 

But what about all the dividends that were paid the past twenty years? I had not gotten any.  I no longer lived in my registered address. I was all over the place. There had been too many homes, and houses that I had lived in. They would not know where to get hold of me.

I had to contact the company that handles PETRONAS shares. Symphony was kind enough to dig into their own record from 1995. Even with today's MIS and all the wonderful software applications, not all have been updated into their database. Mind you, the early to mid-90s, it was just the beginning of computerization, and even then another company was handling this share. But did they did recover the info, and after 6 months, they were able to have a clear picture of my shares. Apparently I have only received the first three dividends, and by 2014, they had issued 51 cheques for dividend altogether.

Four of the 51 cheques.

So immediately they issued 4 current cheques (for year ending Dec 2014) this week (in July 2015). How much? I can assure you that I am thankful.

Most of these dividends have been sent to Unclaimed Monies Registrar, and I would have to request that these monies be re-paid to me. Dividend alone, I calculated, they have been worth twice the original worth of the shares. Not too much, I guess, but more than enough as far as I am concerned. I did not realize that I have such monies in the first place, and I am nearly there to retrieve all that are due to me.

The share price has dropped quiet a bit since the height of Sept 2014, due to the depressed oil price, but they are still 8-9 times of what I originally paid for them. I am hoping sooner or later it would be back at RM30 or more. Wishful thinking may be, but again, I am thankful to Allah. 

If I had been meticulous enough during those days monitoring the share market, I would have probably sold them, as the prices has not risen that much the first ten 10 year. I probably would have gained RM0.50 perhaps over issuance price.

But persevere, or in my case, I just lost interest in it, and revisiting them nearly 20 years later, I found my small fortune.

20 years after I left my service at the national oil corporation, I am still reaping of the good work done by the management, indirectly and directly. I am proud to be part of it and contributing in my own small way during my time.

Enka - the beautiful Japanese folk/traditional music

Enka music/songs can be emotional - they are raw, they are honest and they are full of sorrow (at times much like our Asli). You would feel them even if you do not understand a single word. One need not to, to be drowned in typically melancholic songs. Having spent months on end in remote parts of Japan in the late 80s/early 90s, listening to these traditional Japanese folk-influenced songs on the telly on cold wintry night (with nothing else to do, to be honest), one could not help but feel the pain of these songs.

And one can easily be captivated by them.

I remember a couple of such songs that I was taken by by then that I had to hum them to the instructors so as to identify them and, with their help, brought back a couple of cassettes for me to enjoy back in KL.

Beyond the Amagi Gap (Amagi-Goe) is one such powerful song. Aah, and now it is fully translated into English, never mind that the translation leaves much to be desired.

Love Sayuri Ishikawa's engaging performance and the setting is so beautiful.

But the lyrics?

"Stains from mating?", "I would rather kill you than see you love somebody else?" Hahaha, fortunately our writers are not that adventurous!  ;)

Aah, just read the lyric while listening to the wonderful voice of Sayuri Ishikawa and of course her engaging performance.

For the translated version, please go here. They would not allow me to embed it here. I love it when she sings "Darling, over your shoulder, the mountain is burning" while the background is a simulated mountain burning.

Magnificent!

Thank God for the boys

July will always be special for me. After all, July is the month the two boys were born. And even though they were born in the same month, they did not share the same zodiac sign; as such they have very different personalities and traits too. But luckily, they got a long just fine. Complementary traits, I guess.

I could not ask for better kids. I am not saying it for the sake of saying it. I am really glad they have not been too challenging for me. They have their strength, and shortcomings, definitely.

No doubt they were not straight A's materials academically - neither was I during my days. Perhaps they will not accumulate enough A's at SPM level, even if their lives were to depend on it. But I'd like to believe that life does not depend on the no of A's you have on your certificates.

I should know. I have seen enough straight A's students 20-30 years later. They became normal. In fact many a times, I don't have to wait that long. They became normal again at the university level.

University of life is a great leveler, so to speak.

Work hard by all means, try your best - be it in school or at work. But in the end, in the end, you must enjoy what one does, and you will prosper with His grace. Getting a string of A's would look great on paper, but if you did it by memorizing, and not understanding your subjects, it will be useless.

I don't believe in straight A's anymore, so my excuse would be that I did not push them hard enough for them to get straight A's. On purpose. Hahaha, whatever, you would say.

I digress again. Both of them have one trait that I like - diligent and hardworking. It will take you to anywhere.

Oh is that two traits? Whatever lah!

Arif was born on July 16, twenty two years ago.

I had to wait for sometimes for Arif's arrival. Obviously, we weren't expecting one too early or during the first year, but after te subsequent two year, we were kind of anxiously waiting, so we were relieved when he eventually arrived. Born in Kuantan Pahang, since it was the nearest biggest town to Kerteh/Dungun. We could have made him a 'wang ihsan' child if we were to choose a hospital in K Terengganu, but I guess back then facilities were a tad better in Kuantan than in Kuala Terengganu.

So I guess he shared the same birth state as his mother, despite the two town being the furthest apart in the state of Pahang (Kuantan and Cameron Highland).

He did spent sometimes in Dungun before moving to KL, so I guess he must have gotten his liking for leko by virtue in the land of keropoks.

Akmal on the other hand was born on July 25, nineteen years ago

Akmal, on the other hand, was born 3 years after his brother, this time in Melaka. I was then working at an oil installation in Melaka, but he did not live there long as soon after he was born, we moved to Johor Bahru as I got myself a job in Singapore.

So the two of them spent some time in Johor Bahru, growing up at Jalan Petri.

I would always associate their arrival with the expansion of my career. Immediately after Arif's arrival, I moved to KL, and started my jet-setting days to Tokyo, and London. Glamourest, right? London Ontario lah!

Immediately after Akmal's arrival, I moved to Singapore, a place many of us Malays would dread going to.

Rezeki anak-anak, I guess. Alhamdulillah.

After about two years in Singapore, we moved back to KL, bringing the office with us to set up the KL office, and a few years later, we moved to Houston. Which was something I'd been looking forward to, just to give the boys a taste of life overseas like what I had experienced when I was 18.

Life was moving too fast then for me. And them.

The boys in front of our apartment in League City, 10 mins from NASA Space Center Houston. They were about 7 and 4 by this time respectively.

Obviously, they cherished their lives in Houston. Great apartment, great food, and great schools. The apartment we had was only 10 mins from NASA Space Center, as my office then was at 1110 NASA Road 1.

I chose the apartment facing a canal, so it was a tranquil setting. I then had a high taste of living. Why not? The office was paying for my rent and it did not cost them a bomb anyway. Properties was reasonably cheap then (gasoline was priced at US$0.75 a gallon during that time). Occasionally you will get the boat docked at the jetty, and we can go fishing with the kids, though a permit would be required. We managed to catch a crab which was released back.

Waiting for their yellow buses. They had to go two different schools.

School was something they have enjoyed, while living in Texas. Everything about school there was free. Free bus ride to and from school, free meals and free books. Well everything is about play learning I guess, so books was not really needed. Akmal attended pre-K (pre-Kindergarten) as he was only four years old, and while Arif could have attended Year 2, we decided to put him in Year 1.

Here we are talking about a non-Muslim country if I may term USA in that manner, but they treated their children, including mine, much better than we would treat our own chlildren in Malaysia, and yet we pride ourselves as being an Islamic country, whatever that means.

Akmal with his teacher Mrs Whitworth in their classroom

Obviously, none of them knew much English since their mom would only speak BM to them. But I have checked with Arif's teachers. She told me that he has friends at school and that he has no problem communicating with his friends. I am sure he has had a good time.

I think schools in the States are fun. They do a lot of creative work, something I would not be able to think of myself, and they brought home all kind of handy works from school. They would bring all kind of things that they made at school.

Arif with his teacher at Ferguson Elementary, League City

Akmal with his fellow Pre-K colleagues in 1999; he is on the left

They weren't too keen to return and found school a chore here in Malaysia. School was airconditioned in Houston, while here it was the fan blowing hot air around. The teachers were so supportive, and loving there, while here teachers had their hands full and would not hesitate to shout or use the cane. Too readily.

Arif upon our returning to KL, at home after a few months struggling to find his footing, asked, "Abah, why schools in Houston are so nice, but in Malaysia, they are terrible while KLIA is so nice but the Houston Airport is terrible?"

I guess we got the priority wrong.

 

And one day Akmal, out of the blue, asked me if he could learn the piano. I had no clue as to why he would asked me that. I did not pester him. And his brother Arif wanted to learn the violin.

So I told the two of them to learn the piano first.

That's how I got two pianists at home. For years, they would pound on the cheap keyboard and then an old piano; and for years, they did not complain.

Arif took piano like duck to water, and at the age of 14, he was already performing on stage of the Sedaya University in Cheras, and for FELDA HQ in KL. He was later on selected as Best (Music) Student in 2005 for his school.

Akmal was the slower of the two, which I believe lessen the pressure on him. Since Arif was the more proficient of the two, I seldom if ever would ask him to play a song for me. He would play the keyboard in his room or play the piano only when I was not around.

I guess with less pressure, he absorbed everything before him and eventually became better than his own brother at piano. He writes songs, composed, arranging and do all kind of wonderful stuff with them. I am really amazed with his talent, to be honest.

Something I had wanted to learn when I was a teen myself. But as I had written before, we had too many Simon Cowell in our midst in the 70s. You can read about him here.

Arif with Azie playing Careless Whisper. He was 14 at this time.

Music was not the only thing in their lives. They did enjoy the outdoor in the early years in their lives. Cycling was our favourite thing that we did together. I believe the pictures above and below were taken in 2002 when both of them were bothin primary school.

Otherwise it was the badminton in the small space we have on the side of our home. Enough for child play, I guess. And of course, ping pong in the porch.

Otherwise, indoor, they would be playing the monopoly together. We are a small family, I must admit. They have no one else but each other.

They do have cousins of course. Lots of them I guess. But not the yellow slimy and slithery thing, it is not! Hahaha.

The piano player playing the guitar?

Of course it would be blasphemous for him to play the guitar when he was so good with the piano, but well, his brother Arif plays two instruments, so he took up guitar. I guess, they can be competitive too, but in a good way.

 

Last day of practicing before his big day at ABRSM

He excelled while taking up classical guitar, so much so he was invited to play at the ABRSM High Scorers Concert in PJ hosted by ABRSM, as the only Malay student there. Never mind that I did get not straight A's SPM sons, but in them I got musically acclaimed ones.

The two brothers composing on their digital piano.

They certainly work well together. Akmal has a bit of an edge as he is not only a piano player, he writes his own songs too, including arranging the orchestra. Arif, on the other hand, is purely a player. Give him notes and he will perform for you.

But both are adamant not to make a career out of music. You can only plan so far. I did try to push them; even promising Akmal that I will send him to Berkley, provided that he qualifies, of course. I guess he knew better that their dad has no monies to let him schooled in the States. Obviously they would love to be back in the States.

So Akmal declined.

Akmal at Gua Hira

But they do know about their religious obligation. Akmal has competed his Quranic reading when he was at secondary school. He has done his umrah, and is due for another one soon. Perhaps haj when he completed his uni studies.

Arif went for his umrah on his own immediately after he graduated

The two brothers at our jungle in Ulu Langat

Why only two of them? Then I was hoping I would get a daughter obviously. Which father would not want one? But I guess since I have been awarded the two boys, I decided that they should be enough for me. I can't asked for another. I believe they complement each other and work well with one another. Three would be a crowd, I guess.

Since they are blessed with some musical talent, I have been asked numerous times if I have more at home. Many would try to make me feel guilty for not having more. They were asking if I could have an orchestra at home, I guess (compared to the olden days of wanting to have a football team at home!). Hahaha.

If I was any younger, may be.

Akmal being interviewed by RTM after his performance at Bakat TV in 2011.

The boys at Masjid Ihsaniah at Padang Asam in Kuala Kangsar

Arif at Tasik Bera

Akmal getting ready for his slot

Currently the highlight of Akmal's young life would be his performance at Nasik Lemak Kopi O at TV 9 in November of 2012. He performed four instrumental songs including his own composition which had been well received.

To my untrained mind, I think he can go far, if he wanted to. But only if he wanted to. That will be up to him. He has his own FB Page with over 3,000 fans, and his own Youtube channel, and some of his performances have garnered over 50,000 likes. For an instrumentalist, it is an achievement by itself, and that was recognized by TV9 when they invited him to perform live.

I love his composition, I really do. This comes not from a father's perspective but as someone who love music. You give him any song, and he will beautifully arrange it on the piano. His key selections are amazing and I would say much different from any other pianist.

It is soothing music from him, at times haunting.

The pianist waiting for his turn at TV9 studio

Arif on the other hand, while he is an accomplished pianist in his own way, has his own career in aviation. He now flies the US$70 million flying machine with 180 passengers each time, something his dad had been dreaming of when he was a kid himself.

Before that, he was flying the RM2,000.00 RC at Kota Damansara. He was a natural with the RC.

Arif in an Airbus A-320 simulator

I am happy to see their achievement in their young life. Bapak was not able to see the fruits of his labour, so to speak. He did not live to see any of his children graduating from university and work. So far, I have seen Arif starting his career and earning a living on his own, so I am grateful to Him.

A self portrait in his cockpit

Arif and the crew on his birthday last week.

The both of them are living my dreams, to be honest. I had wanted to learn an instrument, so I pounced on recorder and Yamaha organ (or the guitar when I was in MRSM) when I was younger, but to no avail, and I had wanted to be a pilot when I was a kid. Again, that did not materialize. They are what I had wanted myself to be, though I certainly would like to believe that I had done nothing to push (or pester) them to fulfill my dreams, other than fulfilling their own. I'd like to believe that I had only facilitated them, but not dictated to them on how they should lead their lives. I can't be sure of course that they are doing it for no one but for themselves, but I am pretty sure that that was the case.

Having said that, I think they have to look after each other. They are only the two of them, after all. Akmal is still in college and he needs to complete his degree, so in the event I am no longer around, then Arif would have to take charge, and make sure Akmal is successful in his academic pursuit. Then again, Akmal is a very independent and responsible person, so I would not bet against him taking charge of the family instead.

They still have a long way to go. I know that. But I do hope they will be able to reflect on their lives in the last 20 odd years, and use what they have experienced to their advantage. I may not be around to live or see them through, but I do hope that they will be more successful in life and have a more round life, so to speak.

Not just monetarily, but also spiritually.

Happy birthdays, Arif and Akmal.

'Proposals' came fast and furious - and aplenty - at Ben Thanh

Ho Chi Minh City, Friday night. Taken by Arif

Prologue

While I can never claim to be the first foreigner to have visited Saigon since the fall of Saigon in 1975, but I guess I can arguably claim that I was one of the earliest ones. Way before any Malaysian ladies knew and able to pronounce Ben Thanh, and long before anyone at that famous market can exclaime "Murah, murah," I have been frequenting the city formerly known as Saigon.

Many times over!

Once upon a time - read: the 70s, Vietnam is a name that conjured hatred and invoked fear, especially since the evacuation of the last Americans from Saigon. The theory was that the rest of South East Asia would fall like the dominoes to communism. I was worried about heading to Kota Bharu to start my secondary schooling in 1976, as that would be the nearest Malaysian town to Vietnam, and the Thai border; and if Malaysia were to fall to the communist, I was sure then that they would invade through Kota Bharu, just like the Japanese in 1941.

So when the Vietnamese Communist Party Secretary General visited Melaka Refinery as part of the country's delegation to promote economic cooperation with Malaysia (I was introduced to him in my Training Simulator Room), I was bemused that I got to shake hands with the top guns of the communist Party.

That was in 1994, I think.

In 1995, I was asked by my company to go to Vietnam since we got an inquiry about our products. Then, we would have to get visa to visit that country. And mind you, we have to pay top dollar to get the one-entry visa, and we would be paying the (war) vanquished currency! (Normalization of relationship with the US occurred in 1995.)

But I had not prepared for my eventual arrival in Saigon.

The old Saigon Aiport - not many have seen this airport,
and experienced it.

The airport (it was an old Saigon Airport), perhaps the same one the Americans used to evacuate from Saigon, and it was full with the Army personnel.

Mind you, they were the communists, if I can put it in that way. In other words, they were the VIETCONGS! 


Would they slaughter me right there and then at the airport (like in many American war movies) or torture me to my death? I was hoping that would not be the case, and in any case, I was cursing myself for not asking my boss to increase my insurance coverage when agreeing to come over to Vietnam.

While I was not the only foreigner then, I was pretty sure I was one of the few foreigners who had bothered to go to Vietnam. Perhaps we could count ourselves with our fingers, and there were too few of us, and too far in between. Everybody that I saw that day were wearing greens with some sorts of beret, and hence I perceived everybody was communists.


And mind you, for sure they would not see me as their comrade.

I used to stay at Rex Hotel, perhaps one of the
few hotels then at HCMC in the old days. Rex HOtel
can be seen on the left in the background.

Hey, I was in a country that we thought would invade Malaysia in the mid-70s. We were sure of that; and here I was, alone, in Saigon and trying to figure out what it takes to get to the city centre. I had to bargain in simple English, by pointing US$, as to the fare I was supposed to pay to take me to my hotel.

Fortunately then, as it is not the case nowadays, they had never tried to cheat me. I probably paid less than USD4-5 for my trip to District 1 of Saigon. Worst was trying to bargain my way to Vung Tau which is about 4-5 hours south of Saigon. Vung Tau is a port city and centre of oil exploration in Vietnam.

There was no Lonely Planet to guide me then.

Halfway to Vung Tau, we stopped for our lunch. Obviously no one speaks English and I could not simply explained that all I need is a simple fried rice with egg, and no pork or meat or chicken. I was gesturing to the cook, but I guess we were like chicken and duck trying to rationalize what the other was saying.

Fortunately a stranger took interest in our chicken and duck conversation and managed to interface between us.

So I got my fried rice and egg lunch that day.

Nowadays one can easily ply Vung Tau using the ferry. It is more comfortable that before and less of a hassle than using the road that are filled up with motorists.

Ben Thanh - The Capital of Vietnam

Ben Thanh is the capital of Vienam as far as Malaysian women are concerned - for the shopping kinds, that is! Put them anywhere in Saigon, heck, put them anywhere in Vietnam, I am sure they would be able to find their way back to Ben Thanh.

How would one explained the fact that everybody in the market is able to speak Malay, albeit sporadically. We did not share the same religion, nor language and I don't think culturally there is any similarity between the Malays and Vietnamese.

May be with the Champas - if only in religion, but not with the Vietnamese.

Since my last trip about a decade ago, I had never set my foot in Ho Chi Minh again. After leaving my (previous) employment, I lost that travel streak. May be I was concentrating on the local market, may be it was too expensive to travel in SEA on my own, with no big sugar daddy of a company to sponsor my tickets and five star hotels, so to speak.

The Vietnamese ladies at Ben Thanh took the (Malay) language as if their lives depended on it; and in some case, their lives did depend on it. Since the new millennium, Malaysians made up a significant numbers of buyers of Vietnamese goods sold at the market.

Everywhere we go, we were asked to visit their stalls, loudly proclaiming, "murah, murah." They would even tell you that they can make "baju kurung" or "jubah" within a day, and delivered to your hotel by end of the day.

But I could not stand the bargaining style of Ben Thanh. I knew I would lose - all the time.

First they would shout "Abang Sayang, mari, mari, murah" to attract you to their stall, and will pull your hand to have a seat at their stalls. Now that's something new. I would normally be addressed as pakcik, even if I knew she is older than me. I guess Malaysian ladies prefer to batter one's pride and confidence, eh?

And bring one back down to Earth.

Inside Ben Thanh. It is like a black hole
in as far as the money in your wallet is concerned!

But the Vietnamese ladies are smarter. Even if they are not much older than Arif or Akmal, and in front of Arif and my wife, they would not hesitate - or stop - calling me Abang Sayang!

Don't you worry - I know my place in this world; I knew that abang sayang thingy is strictly meant to ensure that my dollars, Vietnamese dong and ringgit would soon be parted from my wallet into their cash register! I was under no illusion that I was Tom Cruise to their eyes.

But to be honest, while my wallet is what they were after, once I started agreeing to the price for the goods I was interested in, they would turn their attention to Arif.

"Is he your son?" they would ask me. "Why?" I would asked them back.

"He is so handsome, very good looking." Aah, the Vietnamese girls were going ga-ga over Arif. 

Typically Arif would blush, but not without thanking them first.

"How old are you?" they would either asked him, or his mother.

"Oh, I am also 21," they would reply, excited that their age is similar. "Would you be my boyfriend?" OMG, they would propose to him, right there and then. There were no hesitation in their voice, and they were blunt. I am sure I would have died from embarrassment than to do that to any girl when I was their age, and I am sure that that would be the case with Arif.

We would only laughed at their spontaneous proposition. We thought they were hilarious, if not downright absurd!

These Vietnamese girls, as young as they may be, are quite aggressive and would stop at nothing to get what they want. This is something new to him and us. I am reasonably sure Malay girls would not do that, at least not straight to your face. They would probably whispers that thought among themselves, behind your back.

Many a times, I told them to instead address Arif as their Abang Sayang and not me. But I guess they knew who has a thicker wallet (at least for now), and I believe that that term of endearment is meant for someone with a (thick) wallet (that's relative though), and has nothing to do with age, or appearance!

Arif was comparing notes on the Japanese and Vietnamese - he had visited Japan for eight days and Vietname for three. "No, culturally, they are a world apart," I told him, "but both are industrious, that's the common bond. But the Japanese are culturally more refine and sophisticated."

At least to my eyes. Not without basis though - I spent nearly 1 1/2 years in Japan in total while working for a black gold company in the late 80s and early 90s. And I was there during the opening of Vietnam in the early 90s.

Arif found the bargaining process at Ben Thanh stressful. I would too if I were there the first time. To me, I knew I can just walk away anytime I feel the prices are too much to pay. They can't force me to buy their stuff if I don't want to. After all, I was there 15 years ago and knew about the prices then albeit I am sure inflation brought by my fellow Malaysians would have caused the price to skyrocket.

Especially since they would call one Abang Sayang!

The Day The Music Died

Today, twenty years ago, the music died on me. 


It came as a shock, and though rumours had been abound, I had refused to listen to them. Although I knew that it was forthcoming, still when the day came, I was stunned. I grew up admiring him and adoring his music and boy, did he come out with some everlasting songs and music in his lifetime. 

I was only 13 when he won the 1976 Bintang RTM singing competition, singing Seruling Bambu and Big Spender and he made a big impression on me. Of course all the boys at MRSM KB who was watching (at the tv room above the Dewan Makan) had a field day with the latter song, due to the double meaning of the title of the song. Double meaning never ceases to amuse men! Or boys in this case, and everybody would go around, screaming, “Hey, big spender!”

When he released his first EP Teriring Doa, I had no hesitancy in buying it (though on second thought, I think that probably it was Mak who bought it at my request). I think it cost her RM1.75 for the EP – big money those days, mind you. Now, many would claim to be his fans, but not many would be able to claim to have his original vinyl from his first release – long before he became very big with his releases in 1980. 

The songs were great premonition of what the future holds for him. The title song is great but I especially love the song “Suratku Yang Ini” – in this song, a girl is reading up her letter, telling his boyfriend/lover/husband about how frustrating and confused she is with his ‘immense’ love. She sounds so frail in this song – all the more reasons to really love this song. (Being the incurable romantic that I was, huh?)

First ever EP in 1977. From my own personal collection

His second album Aku Penghiburmu in 1978 (though he in a later album referred to it as his first) was to take him to greater height. It’s an unforgettable album, more so for the fact that I was very disappointed with Ahmad Nawab for giving his songs (Kasih, Gugur Ditangkai Madu and Aku Penghiburmu) to the late Broery Marantika when the former left EMI for WEA and Sudir had to compete with Broery for the fans’ preference. Mak being a Broery’s fan, thought that Broery’s delivery was better, while I was rooting and advocating for the newbie. On the radio, you would hear both versions being aired, competing for our attentions. It was unreal. Those were the extra-ordinary days.

Then, obviously I lived on Sudir’s songs. My siblings and I would take turn buying his vinyls, and his vinyls did not only contain great songs, but also contain his funny sketches. (He is such a good artist!) No, we didn’t have to wait until we were sure that they would become popular, we knew we were going to love all his songs! 


It was as simple as that.

Anyway, it is not my intention to list down all his songs, but suffice to say that all the songs in his albums are great song. Beyond getting great compositions from S Atan, he wrote many songs himself – Aku Penganggur, “Nilai Cintamu” and “Dimanakah Nilai Cintamu are some of the great songs written by him. Now, that’s rare in those days; no, make it even today. Most singers would be relying on the songs factory that was Ahmad Nawab.

Maya and Ana (tak dapat dilupakan) are two beautiful songs written for two girls. Maya is about his childhood sweetheart with whom he had happy memories - a song that will always remain in my heart. However Ana is perhaps more melancholic (I still melt hearing the orchestral violin, and the saxophone) – I love both nonetheless.

Some of my Sudir's LP collection

In 1980, he came out two great albums – Anak Muda and Lagu Anak Desa. Now that’s a rarity by today’s standard – that an artist is able to release two albums in a year – normally he would be lucky to have one a year. He was at the height of his popularity and creativity. I think I had memorized all the songs from those albums and would be humming his songs at every opportunity while of course preparing for my SPM. 

A best friend, Kodeq (one Madhadzir Hassan from Darwin 5), noted in jest in my autograph book at the end of 1980, in his Penang slang, “Hang ni lagi satu, fanatik sangat kat Sudirman, semua lagu dia hang suka, sampai baghah telinga aku, berlendir malah berlendiaq.” Hahaha, correct, Deq, you are 100% correct, well said! That’s me in the late 70s and nothing has changed in 2007.

I still remember that day in 1992. It was mid-day, the end of a half day working Saturday, while waiting for my bus at Central Market (I was working at Dayabumi), when The Malay Mail (they were then an afternoon edition) broke the news of his death. I was crushed but I knew exactly how an article should be written in tribute to him in the newspaper. I called up a reporter at the The Star and told her to use the phrase from the Don McClean’s song (American Pie) “the day the music died” as a title for her write-up. She did just that for an article that contained interviews with Sudir’s fans, including this writer. (Of course having the uncommon surname Hariri would prevent my full name from appearing in that article, since the reporter is another Hariri. That would be nepotism, wouldn’t it?). The title and my rambling appeared on Page 3 of The Star the next day and I had a personality change to H.Abdul Rahman. That was my two paragraphs worth of fame!

The Day After - Dad and son in a solemn mood as they reflect on life without his music at their home in Sri Gombak. On the table were the day's newspapers and his LPs. The headlines that say Sudir is Dead (Malay Mail), Sudirman Sudah Mati (Metro), Sudir Dies (The Star) had caused a furore and they had to explained their reasons for choosing such insensitive title no matter how correct the language was. I used to keep the clippings till I lost them a few years back after moving one house too many.

Newspaper reporting his death on Feb 23, 1992

That day, the music had died on me. To me Sudirman is The Music. Sure, his music lives on and will outlive me, but The Music died that day!

Alfatihah.

Tags: sudir

Thursday February 22, 2007 - 12:32am (SGT) Permanent Link | 1 Comment

Kota Toea aka Oud Batavia

In my years of (business) traveling, I was never able to be a tourist.

Most of the time it is work, and work and never-ending work. Early in the morning, we would travel to the client's office, and coupled with dinner appointments, most of the time, by the time I reach the hotel, it is bed time, so I would hit the sack, and the day would end there and then.

It begins all over again early the next morning.

And by Friday night (or late Friday afternoon), I would be queueing at the check-in counter, getting ready to go home.

It does not matter if the meeting is in Bangkok, or Jakarta, Hanoi or Saigon - and just to make it appear a bit more glamourous, I would add Rayong (Thailand), Bataan (the Philippines), Medan, Palembang, Lhokseumawe (Aceh), Balikpapan, Balongan/Cirebon or Dumai for that matter to the list of places I would frequent too. 

They are all the same to me.

Or at least they would appear that way since I would not have seen their cities or town as tourist,  or inhabitant. Neither as I would only be passing through, and I would certainly not able to get to know them. To be honest, I was not really interested too to get to know the towns too well. I was only doing my job. We tried to maximise our working hours while we are on duty, and not use it for personal gratifications.

This is what you do when you love your job and the company you were working for. There was no question that we would do anything for the company, or at least in hindsight, that is what I would like to think.

So in 2011, I was able to get half day off due cancelled meeting, and I decided to reward myself and visited Kota Toea Betawi. I had only seen this part of Jakarta over the years from the cab's windows, but never had the opportunity to visit them.

And these are what I saw that day in September 2011.

Jakarta as reflected in the heavily polluted stream.
Love the picture nonetheless

kota Toea and surrounding from the window of Jakarta History Museum.
If I am not mistaken,this is Fatahillah Square

Decaying Kota Toea. It is in need of restoration for sure

Still intact, complete with blooming Kemboja.

One of the alleyway at Kota Toea

Must be an old ""

This used to the the Batavia City Hall,
now Jakarta History Museum

And no, this was not the job of the WWII Atomic Bomb,
this is part of Kota Toea. It adds character. I am pretty sure
if this was Malaysia, it would have been torn many times over,
and a non-descript building would come up in its place!

Bicycle for hire in front of Jakarta History Museum

I guess these are for the ladies

How much is it? Cheap enough for you
to hire one and enjoy Kota Toea

Open windows outside a cafe in Kota Toea.

Another dilapidated old building
in the old section of what once was Jewel of the Asia.

Beautiful building, only to be marred by the tangled cables 

Another alleyway at Kota Toea

View from the room. This is
taken from the History Museum

Green window panes against the white wall
of Jakarta History Museum

The Garden inside of Jakarta History Museum

A budding  Yuna in the making

Inside Stasiun Kota

EPILOGUE

If you wish to use the pictures, please ask my permission first. Thanks.