FATHER'S DAY - Sunday 21st June 09

My Reminiscene Of Father We Fondly Called 'Bapak'.

I remember, Bapak passed away after a long illness at 9.30pm on the 6th September 1960 aged 52, and Emak 33 years later of old age. Since then I missed them most.

I remember Bapak as an icon and mentor. Born in 1908, he grew up between the 2 World Wars. War had deprived him of proper education. As a teenager he had to fend for his family living, helping his aged parents providing him and his siblings enough food and shelter.

Bapak had an elder brother, a travelling shaman. But his brother was of no help to the poor family. Little did Bapak told me about his elder brother, except that he had settled somewhere afar married to a nobleman’s daughter he had successfully nurse back to health from a long supernatural illness. Bapak had all the respect for his brother as an elder, and look high upon him. However, his brother died at a young age, leaving a wife and a son….a Meor. ( Who knows a 70+ years old a Perakian Meor out there could be my first cousin ).

I can consider myself closed to Bapak. As both of my brothers died during the hazards caused by The Japanese Occupations. I was sort of ‘the apple of his eyes’ ( 'Anak Bapak' the rightful term used in our Malay society) as the surviving boy of the family ( Zainal my younger brother was born 10 years later ).

But, little did I knew, he had tasked himself to make a man out of me. Learning all the trade of surviving the hardships of post war Malaya at the same time pursuing proper education. So as a lad I was made to go to school as well learning the trade of hard labour. The weekends were usually spent working at our Salai Kelapa (Copra Kiln), or helping him cutting down ‘MataBuaya’ tree of the mangrove species at the distant banks of Bernam River, or his sampan 'deckhand' as an inshore fisherman. Each was a tedious job not meant for a 15 years old. Choosing and cutting down a tall ‘MataBuaya’ tree in the thick and muddy mangrove swamp was no joke. Each tree should be about 20 meters tall. One had to fell them using axe toward the riverbank for an easy excess to the river on a high tide. Bapak could’t do that alone. He was not healthy either. He was a frail man, look older than his age. More so he was suffering from a certain terminal illness.

For all that tedious jobs he depended so much in me the unexperienced with a lot of energy to burnt. Diligently he would guide me on using the axe, the technique of cutting the hard wood, chopping on the area the tree should fall. For the inexperience it took almost an hour to fell down a hard MataBuaya tree. But it was a worthy experience. Choosing and felling the second MataBuaya was yet another challenge and a complicated task. We would cut down 2 MataBuaya for a day’s work. The fallen trees to be trimmed of their branches, and push down towards the river banks using slippers of Nipah Palm found abundance by the river banks. Pushing 10 to 13 meters length of a hard MataBuaya log through the muddy bank of thick under growths was no easy task either. We have to wait for the high tide to ease the burden.

Bringing home 2 MataBuaya log for a day’s outing was more than enough for a feeble old man and his inexperience son could offer. Those logs were meant as pillars for building a new annex of his elder sister a single parent's home. We had to have a few more trips to the mangrove swamps before the annex could be built. Bapak as the only man in the family, was duty-bound to look after the welfare of his siblings. And me as the eldest boy in the family was to be trained as a responsible Waris Ahli (next of kin) to my siblings. Ardently Bapak had fulfilled his responsibilities as a father and a Waris Ahli ( next of kin ) of his siblings.

During those days, going to school was not a common things for young lads of my village. The nearest Malay School was miles away. One had to brave the wet morning through a narrow, muddy and isolated kampong lanes for the 3 miles trek. One had to leave home after dawn to reach school in time, a journey too scary to undertake, considering my tender age and the only lad from my neighborhood attending primary School then. Bapak was adamant for his son to have a proper education. He would do anything for me to be in school, though at most time I joined my two cousins from another neighborhood playing truant.

After 3 years in the Malay School I was admitted for English Education firstly at GES and later at ACS in town. Bapak was highly trilled on the news I passed my SC/FMC (Cambridge School Certificate & Federation Of Malaya Certificate of Education) Examination in 1959. He passed away the following year at 52 years of age.

If Bapak is still alive today, he would be 101 this year. For sure, there would be no Father’s Day celebration for him from me either. It was not part of our family tradition. Further more he would not understand why we should have the celebration in the first place. It is difficult to justify to him on why we need to celebrate Father's day, for we are totally living in 2 different world altogether.

Me ( his onetime ‘apple of his eye’) is now living in the fast lane, far away from our beloved Bernam River we used to fish to gather. Far away from the mangrove swamps where he tough his son to swing the axe and cut down some MataBuaya trees, or helping him building our RumahKotai at Parit 26 Baruh, that took 5 years to complete. He would not understand why I ownd a couple of cars for me and my wife’s daily chores, he won’t understand why everyone in my family, including some of his cicit (great grandchildren) having a hand phone each, or wearing braces to put right their ( God given ) jongang (Jonah) dentures. He won’t understand why we had television set each in the kitchen, in the study, in the bedroom as well as in the living room. Neither he would understand why we need to go for annual holidays abroad or an occasional Umrah in Saudi Arabia, for during all his entire life time he could not afford even to perform his obligatory pilgrimage to Mecca & Medinah, though he very much like to.

Now thinking of all the sacrifices Bapak had for me during those short years of his life, the more I missed him. Not a day passed by my remembrance of Bapak and Emak fading off memory. I am proud to fulfill all his dreams for me, my siblings, children and grand children. Though he is not around to share our glories, his fighting spirits and his life vision inspires and lives on all his decendents.

Alfatihah untuk Bapak dan Emak.

s

Playwrights HAROLD PINTER and UTUY TATANG SONTANI

HAROLD PINTER & UTUY TATANG SONTANI, were renowned and established modern playwrights in the late fifties.

Harold Pinter borned in Heckney, London (Oct 1930 – Dec 2008) an English Nobel Laurete: playwright, screen writer, actor, director, political activist and President of The Central School Of Speech & Drama, University Of London. Among his known plays: THE ROOM, THE DUMB WAITER and THE BIRTHDAY PARTY.

Utuy Tatang Sontani ( 1920 – 1979 ) borned at Cianjur, Indonesia and died in Moscow was Sastrawan Sunda Angkatan 45 of Indonesia. Among his famous play were: Awal Dan Mira (1952), Sayang Ada Orang Lain (1954) and Si Kebayan (1959). His writings had been translated in various languages including Russian, Tagalog, Mandarin and English.

I was tasked to produce and direct Utuy Tatang’s SAYANG ADA ORANG LAIN during my final college year in 1962 - a royal command performance attended by The Sultan of Perak - for the Silver Jublee Celebration Of MPSI. The other production was my very own stageplay IBU KANDUNG directed by a collegue.

I was very much influenced by Utuy’s technique of play writing treatments for the stage, in many of my early writings: PUTERI MALISA RATU BERTUAH (Malaysia Drama Awards Ministry of Culture Singapore 1962), MEMBURU BULAN SABIT (staged in Kuala Trengganu 1964 & published by Pustaka Pendidikan 1968, later produced for television by Malaysian renown TV drama producer Aziz Wok (Dato’) and KEMBALI KEPERIBADI SENDIRI (DBP awards 1968) and a novella RUMAH KUNING (published by Utusan Melayu 1969).

Harold Pinter’s triller THE DUMB WAITER was specially selected for my drama major final production at the BBC TV and Film Production Course, London in 1973. THE DUMB WAITER was my tv drama production debut with professional casts and production crews. It was a daunting and challenging task for a young Malaysian working in British Studio with BBC’s professional crew. The experiences gained in Programme Planning, Casting, Rehearsals and the studio production itself was worth a 1000 lecturer room hours.

I became an ardent follower of Utuy and Herold, very much influenced by their stage writings techniques, their well chosen and meaningful dialogues, the uniqueness of each of their story characters and the prearranged ‘obstacles’ that moves the story forward. Most of their play structures followed a perfect paradigm i.e The Premise, The Confrontation, The Resolution. It hooks you as well as the audience right from the opening scene.

On my return home to Malaysia I was made a fully fledged TV Drama/Film Producer Director, a Senior Drama Producer and Head of Drama RTM for more than 2 decades. I chanced in designing, producing and directing RTM Drama Series, Sitcoms, Telemovies and a Feature Film: series Potrait Pekerti, Drama Minggu Ini, Penggung RTM (Made for TV movies), OPAH, ANJANG AKI, TOK PERAK, also sitcom SANTAN BERLADA, FLAT PERSEKUTUAN and DAYANG SUHANA (Feature Movie).
Little did I realised, later in life I specialized myself in producing, directing and writing of stage plays, teleplays and screen plays as well served as a fully fledged Television Drama/Film Producer Director for more than 20 years of my earlier career in RTM (1966-1996). Presently I am managing my very own production house and advertising company specializing in multi media design and productions.

For whatever it was, Harold Pinter and Utuy Tatang Sontani creative approach and style of 'storytelling' somehow influenced me in most my early creative persuits.

The 'Not So Grand Dame Of KT'

Remember the old lady Maimunah Yusof?

To day she hits the headline again. For the upcoming Kuala Trengganu By-Election nomination day next week, some midstream reporters had been trailing Maimunah Yusof the independent candidate last March General Election for Kuala Trengganu Parliment weather she would be fielding herself as independence again. Clever and cheeky she handles the press like a pro. However she breathes out her personal experiences 'of being broke' a good election 'human story' for the press.

She lamented of not having the fund to participate on the forthcoming by-election. However she promised ‘God willing’ she would do it the next time again.

I feel sorry for the old lady. For an aged person like her, the next time again would be too late for Maimunah Yusof.

Here was a woman who braved the odds. Fielded herself as an independence candidate for the March 08 - the 12th Malaysian General Election against the might of BN and PKR candidates and election machineries. She was a lone campainger making her rounds cycling from dawn to dust meeting constituen.

Maimunah Yusof aged 89 the oldest candidate ever to participate in Malaysia’s General Election. She was a loaner and an odd figure against the manifold of mainstream political parties’ mammoth rallies. She hardly has the mean or capability to outline her election manifesto, nor do understand what a manifesto meant for her electorates. She just cycled around from dawn to dust, urging people to vote for her. Some promised out of sympathy, while others abhor her madness. She garned 685 votes and subsequently lost her ‘deposit’. The General Election made her RM10,000.00 poorer.

As was reported, her lone crusade had the sympathy of some caring Malaysians. A blog was set up to help her through the elections as well soliciting donations. I remember a known artists (Wong Seng Tong's AN ELDERLY LADY') painted her portrait holding a Maybank Cheque of RM10,000.00, with a promised the sale proceed would be channel to help her settled her debts. The painting was exhibited at one of the up market art gallery in Kuala Lumpur.

And again, as reported in the press the Blog set for her had collected donations from well wishers to the amount around RM160,000.00. However she claimed of not receiving a single cent from the blog operators, and subsequently made a police report ‘to clear her name.’

We hope the authorities would act fast. Those culprits be apprehended and the law should take its course.

Tuk Mon as she is fondly known contested in the last General Election on the believe that her voice be heard. She believed in the democratic process and good governance of her country. Like others, she wanted to play her part as a responsible citizen, though in doing so she was made a laughing stock, label as ‘a mad old lady’ and broke.

Only her crusades make someone richer by the thousands.

Quey Sera, Sera.....

Thursday October 13: D.Day for more than ½ million plus 11 – 12 year olds of this country. It was the government (pre-planned announcement) on UPSR (Ujian Penilaian Sekolah Rendah) 2008 result on the morning of that day.

Much anticipations, expectations and probabilities in the minds of most young parents throughout the country. So would be for my 3 children. Like other young parents, I presumed they too would take leave from works, to be around with their children. (Lucky though they did not rope in the Grandpas and the Grandmas to tag along.)

That morning while most of their children would be in their respective classrooms heralding the impending final term holidays, these young parents, fretting in the canteens as well the school compounds waiting for the authorities to lash out the long awaited news of the year.

I had 3 candidates put to test for this year's UPSR. They are my grandchildren, a boy and 2 girls. I anticipated by 10.00 am the least, ( akin the announcement of The General Election Result) the news would trigger in. I also believe, like most General Election Results, preferences for early announcement would be favoring the most talked about candidates. And so be for the UPSR result this year. My 3 grandchildren (Erfan,Nureen & Aifaa) are the most talked about candidate in our family circle. They are the pride of their parents, their Grandpas and their Grandmas. Of course, The Breaking News would be for the top scorers. Those garnering the converted 5As, as their parents would readily loud their candidates achievements. Other results, the 4As1B,the3As2Bs,the2As3Bs would follow suit. I was depending on that for the morning.

That was what exactly happened. Good news needs no embargo. Good news travels fast. The Breaking News for the morning was from my eldest daughter. Her son scored 5As. both Grandpas and Grandmas must be informed. Its time to rejoice.

Sometimes later the 2nd news - an SMS from my other daughter. Her eldest daughter got 3As2Bs. Since Grandpa had sent a congratulatory SMS note to Erfan Hamad with copies to the others (dirty old man’s trick) he need to be immediately inform that Nureen Hanna scored 3As2Bs. Not too bad for Nureen. (Tak malu bagi tau orang.)

Then what about my other granddaughter - Nurul Aifaa. I anticipated her score to be equivalent to Nureen Hanna, if not better. Finally my daughter-in-law SMS me……”Dear Babah, …I will let Aifa herself tell U all her results. Iam…….” I could’nt believe my eyes. Has disaster struck my son’s family. Did Aifaa flop the exam? Cannot be. Nurul Aifaa is an intelligent 12 year old. I voucht on that. She may be playful, but a responsible girl. Or my daughter-in-law, just pulling my legs? I was fixated.

Then came this message of a Family gatherings at The Lemon Garden, Hotel Shangrila KL on the night of the 16th from my daughter in-law: TO CELEBRATE ERFAN, AIFAA & NUREEN UPSR RESULTS + AYSHA'S BIRTHDAY. It was a 5 star++ celebration. The invitation justify my belief that ( after all) my 3 grandchildren did well in this years UPSR. Syukur Alhamdullillah.

.........

I had my first taste of Ujian Penilaian Kelayakkan when I was in standard 3 in a rural Malay School. The Ujian Penilaian Kelayakan was for admission into the Special Malay Class in the Government English School the following year. Me and another from the same school was selected. Father and Mother was too happy for me attending English Education the following year. They believed that English was the ultimate language to master, as the country was under British rule then. Mother prepared Nasi Kunyit for the doa kesyukuran.

Looking back the Ujian Penilaian Kelayakkan that I took in 1952 has changed my lifelong career developments and opportunities. (Serve as Public Servant for 35 years. Professionally trained in UK and Germany. Throughout my career represented my country in various inter-governmental meetings as well professional seminars on communication hosted by UNESCO, AIBD,ISBO and others, The Governments of Singapore, Indonesia, Thailand, Philippine, Hong Kong, Japan, USA, Korea, India, Senegal, Saudi Arabia, Egypt & Tunisia.) Not bad for a Kampung Boy groomed by illiterate rural parent of the pre-Merdeka era.

'Quey Sera Sera,

Whatever will be will be;

The future not ours to see,

Quey Sera Sera.

I prayed to Allah for all my grandchildren livelong achievements.

'PERMATANG PAUH'..ho..la..la

The electorate of Permatang Pauh has made their choice. As expected it was no surprise the voters returned Anwar Ibrahim - PKR Candidate by acclamation. That was what it was. Permatang Pauh has always been Anwar’s stronghold, since he wrestled it from PAS on BN’s ticket almost 2 decades ago. Anwar will be seated again in the Malaysian Parliament. However, it was not a plain ride for Anwar’s return to parliament after a long absent. The sodomy charged by his former personal assistant, has clouded his campaign trails. As most electorates are Muslim Malays, the charged could easily swing his ardent supporter vote. That was the only obstacle, the PKR/Pakatan camps had to address throughout the campaign. Anwar repeatedly dismissed the accusation in most of his 'meet the people' sessions. His repeated denials worked. Overwhelmingly he won back the trust of his followers. Yesterday he was sworn in parliament as the head of the opposition to the loud thumbing from opposition bench.
BN candidate Dato’Ariff Shah was Anwar’s protégé when he was in UMNO. Dato’Ariff Shah a local and well regarded by both his political supporters and foes. A mean political aspirants right from his early days in politic under the stewardship of Anwar. Alas Dato’Arif Shah garnered only a third of the total turnout. The reasons being as most political pundits believed the BN camps failed to communicate to the rural voters, the ordinary farmers in villages and vendors on the streets.
Although there were claims of rowdiness from supporters of both parties, the by-election was clean, transparent and democratic.
However, the overwhelming return for the opposition candidate Dato'Seri Dr Wan Azizah (Anwar's wife) on the PRU12 last Mach and The Permatang Pauh by-election results favoring the Pakatan Rakyat considered by many as an early signal for BN component's popularity downturn.
In the past the might of BN Coalition has always been felt in most by-elections. Seldom BN lost in by-elections. BN election machinery has always been in control on all campaigning matters, but not for the Permatang Pauh by-election. Something seemed amiss in BN camp. The running of the campaign right from the start was not well coordinated, so it seemed. More so complacency among'st UMNO could be another reasons for the dwindling popularity not only in Permatang Pauh, also nationwide. UMNO and BN Political Team seemed not as solid as it was used to be. UMNO and BN need to solidified their stance, eradicate all the negatives lavelled against them by the opositions and rakyat at large. Corruption and cronyism are the common threat that would bring down any political party. The rakyat has been bombarded with negative slanders levelled on all politicians, by politicians, more so by town criers 'the know all fuck wit' political touts with certain personal agendas.

Looking back: the country's political scenarios are not as they used to be. Most political leaders, aspirants and supporters seemed to be influenced by self greeds for personal recognition, position and financial gains.

Now that, with Anwar heading the opposition bench, things would be different in Parliament. We hope to see a more transparent governance and good Parliament. Rakyat shouldn't be fooled by child st antics, unnecessary remarks and rowdy behaviours by parliamentarians from both The Government or The Opposition bench anymore.

Enough is enough.

For Once, Let's The Rakyat Be Proud Being Malaysian.

Geleri Chandan & Potraits of Bidong

GELERI CHANDAN

was established on May 2008
and was officially launched on Monday 16th June 2008

at approximately 5.29 pm
by

His Royal Highness Dr Raja Nazrin Shah.

The Raja Muda, Negeri Perak Darul Ridzuan.





Today it premiered its 2nd exhibition, the work of a local impressionist artist Razak Abdullah officiated by Dato'Seri Shafie Afdal, Minister Of Art, Culture & Heritage.

It was another auspicious occasion for art enthusiasts savoring the creative works of another aspiring local artist as well meeting old acquaintances at Geleri Chandan. It was a worthy event, true to its colour and pomps with a mixture of music, poetry, and specially composed songs. The occasion not only honoured by the attendance and congratulatory speech from the honorable Minister of Art, Culture & Heritage, it also featured an academic overview on Razak Abdullah works as a contemporary impressionist by Prof.Dr.Muliyadi Mahamood, UITM entitled The Beauty of Bidong from the perspectivee of a Contemporary Impressionist.
As an artist Razak Abdullah has found his nitch as Malaysia's contemporary impressionist. He is deeply concerned with his environment. His works soulful and poetic with harmonious symphonies of colour. The 'Potrait of Bidong' series gathers views of the seabed that depict semi abstract of images of life forms and seascapes.
Razak Abdullah paints directly from nature and put the technique of expression to optimum using bold strokes of strong colour to create the subject's tones, fantacy and vibrancy as he feels them.
His accompanying poetry entitled Pulau Bidong resonate his love for nature and the artist true feeling for his mother land - Trengganu.





Bidung Island


A long time ago

"Jong Hill on Bidung Island

Pulau Karak is split into two"

Such was a message of old fisherman

To sailors lost at sea


Then

Bidong from the shore to the land

is a sacred island

"In seven steps it is reached"

the message was sent

to Ho Chi Minh city

"Here there are feasts,

resting place and hope"


Now
from head to tail on Bidong
new crops grow on her chest
concrete coral reefs
thought up by intellectuals
progress, or so they claim......


by Razak Abdullah
translated by Brigitte F.Bresson


Congratulations to Razak Abdullah and Geleri Chandan for a job well done

The Angler From Tanah Deli

They moved in to their makeshif squatter home by the river bank almost at the same time as our family moving in to our new Rumah Kotai at Parit 26 Baruh, Kampung Tanjung Bayan. His wife was a very kind and diminutive old lady. We called her Mak Itam. I used to see her frail figure busying herself amidst some bushes plucking herbs for her ‘nasi ulam’ – (a mixture of rice with some concocted herbs). Maybe because of her dark complexion, we nicknamed her Mak Itam, or maybe for reasons that we were not properly introduced when the family moved in to our area, none of us knew her real maden name. But whatever it was they were our first neighbor.

Mak Itam was around 40 years old, 10 years younger than her husband Pak Abu. Mother claimed that she was of the same age as Mak Itam. But to most Mother looked very much younger, maybe because she had a fair complexion. But Father and Pak Abu look like they are of the same age.

And like Father, Pak Abu may have wasted his youth engaged in hard labours. Like Father, he was skinny to the bone, thin haired, with sunken eyes. I presumed he got married to Mak Itam when he was in his early teen. According to Father the couple originated from Deli, Sumatra. They were part of the great migration from Riau Sumatra to our shores some years ago. So were our ancestors, Father used to remind us.

According to Father, they were the landless. All the time they had been vigrants living in makeshif squatter homes in ‘no man lands’ by the bank of Bernam River. According to Father he knew Pak Abu years before the Japanese Occupation periods (1941-1945). They also had, on a couple of occasions joined force scavenging sunken ships. Most were cargo ships drowned by torpedoes of the warring parties of WWII between The Japanese and The Allied Forces at The Straits Of Melacca.

He built his squatter home by the water edge. It looked more like a makeshift dwelling than a permanent abode. It was built out of ‘langadai or mata buaya’ woods found in abundance in the mangrove swamps. ‘Nipa’ leaves used for roofs and walls. The floor area no bigger than a badminton court, with an attached small kitchen shed. The interior was almost empty except for a couple of rolled up mat and mosquito nets for sleeping purposes. There was no proper wardrobe. Clothes were hanging on the hooks by the pillars. It was more like a temporary dwelling for fugitive on the run than a family’s permanent abode. They could only afford the very bare minimum. The were simpleton. Although poor they looked contented. They mind their own business, kind to their neighbors and nice to people around them.

It was rare to see a hardcore poor like them in and around the Malay Settlement. At least Father had his Rumah Kotai to house his family. Unlike Pak Abu, Father could take pride of himself as being a part of The Malay Settlement. Father also owned a small holding, a plot of coconut land he could claim his own. Among the Malay Community, Father was considered to be in the bracket of the haves, in the category of the affordable villagers. That was the way the British Malaya Administration Government categorized all resident of the Malay Settlement then. They were land owners - small holders. As for Pak Abu, he was the landless and considered by most as vagrant. He had no place in the Malay Settlement. His livelihood was only fishing at the swelling estuary of Sungai Bernam.

Something unique about this couple interest me till present day. Pak Abu was a seasoned angler, and Mak Itam was good in preparing ‘nasi ulam’. Pak Abu prowess skill angling for ‘ikan SIAKAP,’ was widely known amongst his peers. Most of his good catch of SIAKAP always sought after by Chinese Tawkeys in town offering good prize. His catch could be a few SIAKAP for each monthly season. But that satisfied him, and he would never look for other job option to supplement his income. During off season he would spend his days repairing his ‘perahu’ ( boat ), or moving about the Malay Settlement looking for the right bamboo for his fishing rod.

According to Pak Abu a good bamboo rod would be 15 to 21 feet in length, with each having more than 21 segments. The best would be an old and stunted bamboo stalk with ant nest at its upper branch. It was a feat finding the right type of bamboo for the fishing rod. The size must be around 1 inch diameter at the base and having the required length. Pak Abu would pay any prize for the right bamboo stalks, but normally he got them for free.

Then the arduous routine of shaping and bending the fishing rod by heating them on a slow fire. A special hook is shaped manually out of discard metal. The line was of copper wire, carefully prepared by wrapping with cotton rags, soaked in a mixture of coconut oil and heated over hot fire, for more flexible and durable. That was what we were told. The fishing gear known to the local as ‘UNJUN’ and the angling term in Malay ‘MENUNJUN’ – i.e to throw in the ‘live bait’ of young shrimps into the water to lure expensive SIAKAP ( A type of Carp ). It was a tedious and non economic venture, for no ordinary angler could haul in a big SIAKAP, however hard one tried. None had the skill and patience except Pak Abu. Father tried a few times but failed for he lacks the zeal.
According to Father, Pak Abu's special skill was he knew the habitat of SIAKAP and the way to lure them. Ikan SIAKAP known to be voracious breeds. SIAKAP greedily bite the lure and in respond the angler snatch the rod to hook the fish. Then the ‘tug of war’. The bigger the fish, the arduous the task of landing them. Pak Abu had the skill and experiences even for the biggest catch hooked. He would tire the fish for sometime by not giving in to the strong pull of the ferocious SIAKAP. Later he would let off his UNJUN to be dragged into the deep of the midstream. He would follow the drifting UNJUN for some distant. Sooner he would haul the tired SIAKAP into his ‘sampan, a very good catch and a lucky day for Pak Abu.

And at the change of the tide, with the stronger breeze from The Melaka Straits, Pak Abu would set sail to town to sell his catch to a ready Chinese buyer.

Mak Itam could tell whether Pak Abu had a good catch just by scanning the horizon during the change of tide each evening. A full sail on a strong breeze, meaning a sustainable income for the day. Otherwise Pak Abu would drift back home with the rising tide, along the way checking his fish traps anchored somewhere along the river bank.

Mak Itam as a dutiful housewife would make ready her usual nasi ulam. With or without Pak Abu’s catch of the day, she had dutifully prepared dinner for her fisherman husband. She would also extend some of her ‘nasi ulam’ to the neighbours.

Although the family lived by the day, they were generous and Allah bestowed His kindness to them. They were our good neighbors for years. He was Father’s bosom colleague, and the two very much valued their lasting friendships. They used to laments their long lost bygone history while each tried to define their original ancestral roots of Riau Malay descends. Often I heard them humming the tune of Lagu Kuala Deli together. At time I could see them in somber mood and their eyes red in tears - a phatetic sight for me at that young age, but for reasons I could not fanthom.
Now that they were all gone, I still vividly remember their caring relationship. They were meant for each other. They shared their happiness and sorrows together. They were like blood brothers, bonded by ancestral history and traditions.

Were they of the same Klan? Were they the genuine enthusiastic settlers sailing across The Straits of Melacca looking for greener pastures, or band of refugees escaping the wretch of the colonial Dutch?

That’s the untold historical events yet to be researched.