Remembering Pakcik Ajis

"Aman, assalamualaikum. Apa khabar? Bila nak datang Lumut? Lama tak jumpa Aman, Pakcik Ajis rindu. Kalau ada masa, datang lah rumah."

That's the text he sent to me in March 2009. I was having my dinner at a small restaurant in Jakarta then and as I had just arrived a couple of hours earlier, I was tired and not in the mood to chat over sms.

So I sent him a quickie reply, telling him that I was in Jakarta, and would call him when I return at the end of the week.

But I did not do what I promised him. I did not call him when I returned to KL. Things were just too hectic for me to begin texting each like we used to. Or at least that's my excuse. An excuse that I'll regret till the end of my life.

Definitely it took him to the end of his, for he passed away today last year - the 15th day of Ramadhan.

We have a reasonably close relationship as we would normally text each other every now and then. I had visited him a couple of times at his home in Manjung, and stayed for a couple of nights there. So I was not too sure why I did not visit him again, after the text message he had sent.

Or for that matter, to call him or even message him in between.

Death is an event that you can never prepare for, irrespective of the circumstance. Especially in his case, it was totally unexpected. I was told, after the burial by his neighbour, that he collapsed while he was mowing the lawn at a school, if my memory serves me right. In an instant, he was gone, taken from his loved ones. There was no sign that he was sick or ill, or that the time for goodbye was so near.

Only for the fact that he told his neighbour that he wanted to jalan jauh only two days earlier. But at that time, no one had batted an eye lid with his remark.

I did not get to wish him goodbye in person, as I was late for the funeral. I knew of his demise reasonably early - Mak called at around 11 am, but I only left KL for Manjung at around 1 pm.

But the funeral started immediately after asar, within a space of 6 hours after his demise, and at that time I was still driving like a mad man playing catch up. Most of the time I was doing 140-150 km per hour on the hiway and on the state road I decided to throw caution to the wind in overtaking trucks and cars to try and make sure we would be able to see him one last time. But alas, all I got to see was a freshly filled bun of earth. Hence in some sense, it is hard to accept the fact that he is no longer with us, as I did not get to see him at all. Normally I would be writing about event like this one in my blog, but a year has now passed and I have not written about him at all. For nearly a year, I can't write about him. And I didn't.

May be I was hoping that it was not him, and that he is still alive in Manjung. I was waiting for him to sms me; to ask me how I was doing and ask me to come over his house. But a year has passed, and the sms that I have been waiting from him tak kunjung tiba.

He is one uncle (from Mak's side) who was very close to us. First and foremost, he was very close with mak. By extension of that, we would feel very attach to him. And by nature, he is a loving person and humble too. He would typically visit Mak and us and definitely on Hari Raya day, though he had not done so the last Raya (2008) prior to his death. So I called him to wish him for Raya and if he was planning to come.

But he was celebrating Raya in Jeram that year and hence could not make it to our house in 2008. I did not ask further - to me it was a break from the norm that year. Obviously I was not too pleased. I am used to having him come around at noon and have the nasik tomato meal that Mak used to make on Raya day. But I can't dictate and demand that he comes for the Raya.

Caption: The three siblings - PC Ajis, MC Maznah and Mak in Paroi, Seremban attending a wedding in 2004. You can read about this wedding here.

As I understand from stories Mak told us when we were kids though I can barely remember the details, he did not live with the family when he was young. This story has been told many times when I was a kid, and that this tale was like urban legend to us. But I have forgotten the finer details, when I wanted to write this tribute to him, so I had to call mak again to reminisce about.

After nenek gave birth to him in Port Dickson, Tok Adam's brother - Pak Andak to mak, came and asked Tok Adam to give the baby to him. Tok Adam was reluctant, eventhough he has many kids already, but his bro told him in a not-so-subtle way that he would severe the ties if he was not given the baby. So in the end, in order to maintain family ties, nenek and Tok Adam relented, and gave away PC Ajis when he was 4 days old.

Against their wish. Reluctantly.

I am sure it was hard on nenek. They were not planning to give the baby in any case. They had not done that with their earlier children and had never done it again since.

So began his hard life in a kampung in Jeram. Pak Andak did not have a proper job; proper here means modern, governmental and pensionable job like his brother. He would do all kind of kampung jobs, including as fisherman, and I believe PC Ajis' love for the sea probably stemmed from him and the life he had when he was a kid.

When he was 10 years old, Tok Adam and nenek came to take him back so that they could school him in an English school. PC Ajis wanted to follow, but of course he was not allowed to. Apparently the nenek on the Jeram side side had sweet talked PC Ajis to ensure he would not follow his parent back. In essence, he missed quite a bit of opportunity he would have had, had he returned to the family. This was of course told later by PC Ajis himself.

In many ways, he led a harder life than his siblings would have endured in Taiping.

Only when he was 17 or 18, he would come back and look for his family in Taiping. Mak told me that he rode the sampan from Jeram to Pantai Remis, and probably took the bus to Taiping and went to Assam Kumbang. I am not sure what's the motivation. May be he was old enough to go on and live his own life by then so that he decided to be looking for his own parents.

He found nenek in the compound of the house (read Beautiful houses of my souls to know more about this house). Approaching nenek, he said, "Mak kenal saya tak?"

Nenek looked up to him, and not recognizing the young man before her, asked, "Ni sapa?"

He looked at her and with tears in his eyes, replied, "Aziz." (I have not checked with Mak under which name he was known to nenek then). It was a straight forward answer. There was no you-guess-my-name-first game at that encounter. The prevailing mood on that occasion would not have allowed such premise.

I am sure nenek did not recognize PC Aziz because she was not expecting him at all. Travel in those days is not like today's travel. He had taken the sampan and the bus to reach home - how many of us would have to endure that to go home?

Upon coming to her sense, and the reality in front of her, she was overwhelmed by the presence of her long lost son. With tears in her eyes, the two of hugged each other. Berderai airmata. I presume they had not seen each other at all for at least 8 years, since nenek and Tok Adam were not allowed to take him back when they went to Jeram to pick him up. May be more. May be nenek did not follow Tok Adam to Jeram, I don't know. The last time she saw him, he was just a kid. Or may be even just a baby. Now he was practically a grown up man.

It was a touching moment for a young man who managed to track his own mother. It was drama in real life. There was no FB then to help you trace your roots, families and friends.

So began his second life with his real family. Tok Adam would get him job and he would move from one job to another, as he tried to improved his life. It would also took him to Lenggong, and he stayed there for quite sometimes before he got himself a job as a Polis Hutan.

He did drift back to Jeram after awhile, and prior to his Polis Hutan days, one day he contacted Mak telling her that he wanted to return, but did not have enough money with him. So Mak, through bapak posted him RM30 and it was for this reason, Mak believes, that he was very close to Mak as his elder sister. His gratitude to Mak for the RM30 would last him a lifetime. I guess it was his passport then to get out again and get back to with his other life.

But then again, I guess PC Ajis too is not of generation Y, and hence his lifetime of debt and gratitude to Mak for helping him out when he was in need. Unlike the current generation, I guess you may spend hundreds, if not thousands of ringgit, on your siblings and you would not even get a thank you. In fact, sometimes they would question you for not giving them more. Aah, well, kids of the newer generations.

Caption: PC Ajis at the back with Mak and the Hariri family on a train in the 60s. My sis KSham was having her forty winks.

I guess by this time he would not return to Jeram and would spend time with his real family in Taiping. By then, he was an independent person capable of deciding of his own destiny in life.

Even in the early days of him returning, he would often visited us in Lenggong at the house on the opposite side of the Balai Polis. I remember very well what he brought that day; an EP containing the song The Good, The Bad and The Ugly. So it was he who introduced us the wonderful song of Ennio Morricone.

Then we would be listening to this song over and over again. Mind you, we had no television then. With him around, we were introduced the wonderful sound of contemporary English music.

Obviously he was fond of Mak and of course her children. I guess by then Mak would only have the first two. I was told by Mak that how he would one day carry Kak Sham from our Jalan Maxwell home to the Tekah Airfield because a heli is supposed to be landing there. It was quite walk - at least a couple of km, more if you were carrying someone with you, and I know Mak's children are not kecil molek.

Mak said he adored the two of us, and it shows with the text message he sent me. The only thing is that his nephew did not know how to reciprocate or have the courtesy to show his respect.

PC Ajis and his sister MC Nolly in Assam Kumbang. I am not sure about the date and when this was taken in relation to his homecoming, but I am sure this was the 60s.

His transition to living with his actually family and getting to know his many sibling was not without hiccup and problems. He was practically the only kid at Pak Andak's home in Jeram. His daughter - Kak Esah to PC Ajis, has practically grown up, so he has the whole home to himself. In Taiping with Tok Adam's family, foods were ample too but had to be rationed to ensure everybody would get their share.

He was not quite used to this and time would tell Mak of his frustration at home. But there's nothing untypical about this.

In the end, he would settle down in the field force (PPH) until his retirement.

Aruah PC Ajis when he got married in Teluk Anson, I guess, in the early 70s - has to be 1972 or earlier. There are so many aruahs in this picture. One can see aruah nenek Bulan, aruah Tok Adam, aruah PC Man (Cikgu Othman Mansor, squatting), aruah bapak and a few from Lenggong - aruah Mak Anjang and MC Sabi. I guess since he had worked before in Lenggong that there was an entourage from Lenggong for his wedding. (Updated 26/8 Is it possible that the old man at the back behind the pengantin is aruah Tok Bab? it surely looks like him.)

I remember chatting with him about the old days. He did lament about the non-existence of opportunity for him to make it good in his life, unlike my generation. May be his life would have changed had he been able to return home and finished his education in an English school as Tok Adam had wanted him to do. Instead he was stuck in a kampung, and I believe he may not have even finished his Malay school education.

Opportunities in his lifetime were rare, and life I guess was difficult for his generation.

But he has a big heart. Compared to Mak's other younger siblings, I guess, we are closer to him than everyone else. We would not hesitate dropping by at his house in Ipoh, and many times we would, either on our way back to Taiping or the reverse journey back to KL. My family and I, in December 2004, spent 3 nights at his house in Manjung, and returned to Taiping on the 24th December.

Two days later, at noon, he texted me, "Aman kat mana?"

He knew of my plan - I was supposed to go to Penang, and Langkawi, after holidaying in Lumut. So I was a bit surprised by his questioning of my whereabout.

"Taiping," I replied. "Demam, tak jadi pegi Penang. Kenapa?"

He did not reply.

Only in the evening, we got the news of the tsunami, and that Penang and Langkawi were all hit by the waves. So that was the reason why he sms-ed me that day. He was concerned about our wellbeing.

That's him; that PC Ajis as we know him. We were almost always in his mind, unlike us. I have blogged about this incident here.

He may be 63 when he passed away, but he was in good health, so I thought he would be with us for many more years.

Tapi ajal maut, jodoh pertemuan, tiada siapa yang dapat menentukan, atau menduga. Kita hanya merancang, Tuhan yang menentukan.

I can only pray for his well being in the afterlife - that's all I can do nowadays. Akmal did perform an umrah on his behalf in February 2010, but I was told by Ende that she had paid someone to perform the Haj last year.  He did not have the opportunity nor the privilege to have performed it himself, so I do hope that that would pay for the visit that I did not do for him in Manjung when he texted me earlier that year. This umrah was done by his flesh and blood and done without expectation of monetary gains, so it I believe it is better for the ruh.

Moga Allah mencucuri rahmat keatas ruhnya dan dimasukkan dia kedalam golongan orang-orang yg solleh.

Amin.

Alfatihah for PC Ajis.

MIscellaneous - From 2007

December 26, 2004 in remembrance

I would never forget the fateful day of December 26, 2004.

Prior to that day, tsunami was just a Japanese word, and a phenomenon that will only occur in Japan. Now, I believe it is Indonesian - Acehnese to be precise, and can occur even here in Malaysia. It is no longer as foreign as the Japanese Katakana.

That week till end of the year of 2004, I was on leave. I had not taken long leave for a long time and I thought the family deserves some kind of holiday. So I decided to take a driving tour of the peninsular, going up North, up to Langkawi.

This holiday was supposed to be a leisure one. The destination was not important. What matters was to enjoy the journey itself.

So I drove to Lumut using the coastal road through Kuala Selangor and spent a couple of days there. Nothing fancy there I guess. We spent a couple of hours on the beach in Teluk Batik Lumut, lazing around. The kids took up kayaking and enjoyed the water there. An uncle living in Manjung provided the accommodation, so it was a plesant two-day stay.

On the 24th, I drove to Taiping. Taiping was just a stop over and we are supposed to move on to Penang on the fateful day of Dec 26 for a beach picnic and by end of the day, move on to Langkawi.

I had it all figured out.

Or so I thought.

I fell ill - I can't remember the exact date, most likely upon reaching Taiping. It was a case of bad flu. I was in no position to drive, and being in Taiping was the perfect tonic for it. Like I have said, we were in no rush. I may have gotten the long leave, and we have ample of time.

Noon that day - the most tragic day in human history, I received an sms from my uncle in Manjung, "Aman kat mana?" he asked. I was surprised with the question as I didn't expect him to be wanting to monitor my whereabout. "Taiping. Kenapa?" was my response. But he didnt reply.

I only came to know of the tragedy during the 8 pm news. By then the news of the devastation was trickling in. No one had any inkling what was exactly happenning or the extent of it.

By then, I knew that my family could have been part of the statistic. We could have been wiped out. I was definitely planning on a sea-side picnic in Penang that day, and we definitely should be in Langkawi by end of the day.

But we didn't make it - thanks to the flu.

Over the next few weeks, colleagues through out the Hyprotech offices worldwide were sending me emails asking me about the situation here in Malaysia. We were lucky, the devastation was just a fraction of those experienced by the Indonesians and other countries. "And I am thankful," I told them. " For I could have been there along with my family enjoying the beaches of Penang."

But fate intervened that day.

Pardon me if this entry sounds like it is about me. No, it is not. It is about the 250,000 who died in the tragedy and many more millions who lost practically everything to the tsunami. My near miss is nothing of concern and just like a particle of dust in the history of mankinds.

Alfatihah to all who died.

EPILOGUE

I sincerely hope those affected by the tsunami have been able to rebuild their lives. And my hope is that all the funds collected have been fully disbursed to those victims. But I know this is only wishful thinking on my side. Remember the Penang victims who only got their house prior to Raya puasa this year, nearly three years later?

I wish we would audit all these accounts.

To think that nearly 200K people died in Aceh alone is mind boggling. It was the most tragic of all of human tragedy. For someone who had spent weeks in Aceh (albeit in the PRamlee's home town of Lhokseumawe - an oil and gas town bigger than Kerteh) - training the Acehnese process simulation, I felt it for them. Especially the Hariri clan do have some Acehnese bloods.

You feel so small in the face of the earth.

I had thought of adopting a kid in the aftermath of the tsunami. But it didn't work out.

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Wednesday December 26, 2007 - 06:21am (SGT) Edit | Delete | Permanent Link | 0 Comments

The Senjakala Rambling

This week has been a slow week in as far as visitors are concerned.

I guess it is inevitable. I have been less political in the past weeks since Bersih and Hindraf, and people like to read those better than stories about me and my families. Hahaha, I have no problem with that.

Other than that, people have been getting plain bored with my story mory lah.

Talking about politics, I have been warned by a concerned friend to start burning any yellow t-shirts, if I have any, for fear that one day the police might come a-knocking at my door.

I responded to his serious-sounding sms, half jokingly said, "Eh, you know where I can buy that Bersih t-shirt? I should have bought it earlier."

He was half screaming at me back, "Dude, I am asking you to burn it, not buy it. If I were you, I would even burn my yellow underwear!"

Hahaha, he is a funny guy. Of course he doesn't know that I don't have a yellow underwear.

I told him that I am no Anwar Ibrahim or Mat Sabu!

Anyway, I have a couple of yellow t-shirt, long before it was made fashionable by Bersih. I am not worried about t-shirt to be honest. At times though, I do wonder about blog. Then the other question would be, should I delete the entry and pics in my blog on the rally? We didn't do anything wrong. This is not a police state, even if the police would like to claim it as theirs.

When I sms-ed my sis on Nov 10 about the rally, she told me later that her thought was more like, "Oh no, not another one. Would I need to visit him at the Penjara Kamunting?".

Again I thought she was funny.

Well, I think the police has been witch-hunting with the recent arrest of many activists, not-with-standing those of Hindraf. And the Nurin murder case is still unsolved. The culprit who released the the pictures of her post-mortem is going to get away scot free despite police statement warning the public that they are closing in on the suspect.

Empty promises. Typical.

Similar to those feel good statements our politicians are keen to tell the public to show us how lucky we are.

I remember in 1998, a few months after Anwar was sacked and arrested, Rafidah Aziz was in Houston for a conference. So us Malaysian Houstonites were invited to a public forum with her at the Four Season Hotel (??). After the speech on mostly bitching about Anwar, during the question and answer, this writer found the courage to ask her this question.

"Dato Seri, we have been warned many times about the over-heating of the economy and the impending economic crisis. Why didn't we pay heed to all these warnings? Instead, we kept on saying how well our fundamentals were," I asked.

She didn't look too pleased with the question. She prefers political question.

Of course she went on denying that there was the overheating of the economy, and blamed it on the speculators. Since then too, I have read books by Prof Jomo, and attended many lectures by Prof Ubai as part of my MBA program and I guess I knew a bit more now than then.

Nonetheless, why can't we all call a spade a spade? If the economy is doing badly, why don't we admit it, and takes actions to rectify it?

We don't like bad news, especially if it is painful to all. We prefer good news, even the news is not true. It makes us feel good. The economy is doing well. We will have 6% growth this year. Our inflation will be at lowly 2%; never mind that actual is over 20% or more. Our election is fair, nevermind that they would gerrymandeer it every now and then. Everybody is getting their fair share of the economic pie despite report saying that Malaysia has one of the world's most skewed wealth distribution.

So that Gerakan vice youth chief would be sacked by Koh Tsu Koon for saying what many believe to be the truth, even if part of it was exaggerated a bit. The government is saint, and infallible. They are the untouchables; like their counterparts in India.

We feel good when Pak Lah gave 180 cows for Korban; as if it comes from his pocket. We feel great when Kayveas gave 30 camels for korban himself. At Hussein Onn, the mosque committee invited a Chinese MP to officiate the Kurban ceremony; oblivious to the fact that this is a religious event. What's next? Invite him to be the imam for the Solat Raya too?

What some mosque committee would do to show their political connection and affiliation even while doing something for God.

I don't know; I think things are going from bad to worse. We should be able to take stock and rectify the situation. It takes a man to admit mistakes; and I don't see that man in the establishment right now.

EPILOGUE

This is what I call a rambling. Hahaha, what's my point, really?

I really don't know myself!

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Monday December 24, 2007 - 06:49pm (SGT) Edit | Delete | Permanent Link | 2 Comments

Three helping and A Wedding

What has gotten into me?

Three helpings at a wedding feast in Seremban today is not going to help me lose weight, and I need to lose weight fast. The foods at the wedding were too good not to be finished off by this writer. The fact that it has been months since his last jogging rounds in Hussein Onn is only making it worse for him.

Of course cendol as a desert after that hearty lunch is not going to help either.

In any case, I love going to family and relative's wedding. Actually the idea to meet up not-so-distant relatives that I don't frequently meet somehow appeals to my senses. It really makes me feel good today to be meeting with the host Pak Karim who was nice enough to come to my house 4 years ago for a small kenduri. Since then I have been back twice to two of his childrens' weddings. Not to mention seeing again PCAziz, cousins Abg Nai, Ned and Kak Anne and many other long lost relatives.

The Hariris were in full force today. Mak, KSham, this writer, Aboy, Ani, Ata, Farah and Aishah were all there. It is the biggest assembly of the Hariris outside of Raya gathering.

All in all, I would say that this is the biggest assembly of the Bulan's Minang clan in the home state in recent years.

That's Mak with PC Aziz and MC Maznah (the anak-anak Adam Chemana, a Minang from Tasik Meninjau and a Royal Malaysian Custom officer), and in the next pics is with PC Yan.

Oh by the way, did I tell you the acar and the daging masak hitam (?) were excellent?

Oh my God, I am begginning to sound like Bapak, who loved his food!

This writer having the time of his life. I like this pic - it shows a different side of me I seldom see. It was taken by Arif. The gamelan band at the wedding. Not too bad, but personally I prefer a ghazal outfit anytime. But this is a nice change from recorded music.

Hang on a second. Where is the wedding pictures? Where is the bride and the bridegroom?

Unfortunately we were there very early and were able to catch with quite a number of relatives. But left while most were having their lunch. By that time, the couple was nowhere to be seen and hence we didn't get to meet up with them.

Hmmm, looks like we were just using their wedding to meet up with the clan. Ok, whose wedding is next, and when?

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Saturday December 22, 2007 - 05:11pm (SGT) Edit | Delete | Permanent Link | 1 Comment

What we will do for Richard Clayderman

I don't understand why Genting is so popular.

The Singaporeans come to Malaysia, and they go to Genting. My Indonesian friends came and they went to Genting too. Personally though I think Genting is over-rated. It is boisterous, it is loud and it is noisy. Not to mention that it is unkempt and extremely expensive (if only to me).

If I have the choice, I would not find myself shivering in the cold at the entrance of Arena of the Stars. I would prefer to be in the comfort of my own home, watching the lizards fight for insect on the ceiling. But with me being the slave to my kids, I agreed to drive them to Genting to to enable them to watch their pianist idol Richard Clayderman in action. Mind you, more than a year ago, I did the same thing when they wanted to attend a concert by Maksim.

I do enjoy the romantic songs of Richard Clayderman. This is one popularity I can comprehend, though many a times his beautiful songs are just too painful. But seriously I don't want to indulge myself in concert anymore. I am not getting any younger, so I tried not to attend those things no more.

Arif and Akmal will be entertaining my guests at next week's office warming which should include one of my favourite teachers cikgu Dr Fatanah; so I guess this concert is nicely timed to get them into the performing mode.

Luckily it didn't rain on the way up, but I am nervous thinking about the journey down. The mist is quite thick and on a bad night, the road might trecherous due to limited visibility. As we were early, we went for our early dinner at the First World Indoor Amusement Park.

This is where I found it boisterous, loud and dirty. It is way too crowded and at times I feel like I am in Hong Kong.

May be I don't like crowded places, much like what I said in an earlier entry. May be, I don't know. If not for the kids, I would not be here.

The two briyani and the couple of drinks we ordered cost me a whopping RM38. Man, this place is damn expensive.

In the end, as I have two hours to kill while waiting for the kids to be entertained by the King of Romance - King Richard - I managed to convince myself that an RM11 hot vanilla is worth the price for me to get a sofa and a hotspot to write this entry at Coffee Beans - my first in more than a year.

Aah heavenly.

Genting, anyone? Thank you very much. Gimme Maxwell Hill anytime!

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Epilogue

UPdated 22 Dec 2007 at 1958 hours

Someone sms me late this afternoon and said he was disappointed with the concert. Apparently he prefers the 'older' selections like Lady Di and many others. The kids didn't complain about the song selection; in fact enjoyed some of the surprises in the concert.

However, one common complain stuck out. For some reasons, his jokes were directed to the mainly Chinese audience. If you don't speak the language, then you are lost. As he pointed out, "Typical of the frog, simply refused to learn English."

I am sure the frog was directed to a certain pianist Frenchman! He is a funny lawyer, and a Clayderman fan. Apparently this was his second - and last, he insisted - concert due to that reason.

Well, what can you expect? For one, the audience is mainly Chinese. Arif said too few Malays were in the audience on the way back to KL. I said, "The Malays would mainly watch Konset JomHeboh!" He laughed. So in some way, King Richard was only doing what's expected of him to please his audience.