Of MCA, UMNO & other politics.

30.3.2010.

Whew ! so the last MCA troubles are at least temporarily over - until someone stirs up something else. Unlike UMNO, but not necessarily implying that UMNO is in any way better, an MCA leader's sexual diversions don't necessarily mean that his political career is over. I used to think that the basic cultural clash in MCA is between the Chinese-educated and the English-educated. At least that was one theory put forward by some academics years ago. But as is wont among academics, that is simplistic. The real world is anything but.

UMNO nation-wide meetings are around the corner. With the recently approved changes in the party's constitution, it'll be interesting to see the real developments at the grass-roots, meaning the branches' meetings. My feeling is the modus operandi of UMNO is still the same, and if that is true, I haven't too much hope for any real turn-around by the party in as far as the Malay voters are concerned. UMNO is still being talked off by the Malay-in-the-street as obnoxious and crony-driven. The voice of the branches must be heard if the party is to regain any semblence of the trust it once had of the general Malay populace. For the branches to be heard, the resolutions tabled by them have to be picked up and seriously considered, and not let such resolutions be tabled and then forgotten as was the previous practice.

For one thing, I would like to see genuine leadership gets recognized right at the branch level, and once divisional leadership endorsed by the delegates is lined-up, party Supreme Leaders not leave any out of important appointments in the party's state and national machinery, and not repeat Dollah's  fatal error of discarding 70 Divisional heads out of the 2008 GE line up. To use golf terminology, don't duff the shot, and don't take any free drop. Also, to quote Maulud, don't hit "luar tabi'i" ( unnatural hit ). When I asked him to explain, he said "hitting at the back" or in Malay "hentam belakang". Ha, ha. 

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More weddings.

15.3.2010.

The school holidays, though a short one, are here, so the weddings rounds begin again. The last two weeks there were three weddings- Bull & Wok's son at Shah Alam, Fuzi's at Kajang, and Daro's at Seri Kembangan. 

The Kajang one was at their house, while the other two were held in their respective rented (or not) halls. I think this was Fuzi's second reception that we came to, also at the same venue. Being held at her house wasn't a good idea. It was sweltering hot, the crowd too big, and the area too small. The big crowd meant that the main road in front, close to the traffic lights on the Semenyih-Kajang old trunk road, was absolutely congested. The drivers not involved in the wedding didn't show any sympathy and cursed and shouted and thumped their horns and pointed their fingers and more or less showed the famous ugly side of Malaysian motorists.

I said rented or not because Bull held his reception at Sirim where he was once the boss, and I asked if it's f.o.c. and he said "sikit" - which transalates to f.o.c. Daro's hall was more modest, in fact most of us were sitting in the several erected canopies outside the smallish dewan. 

It took the marriage of her daughter for me to find out that my first-cousin's real name is Siti Aminah ! When I first received the invitation card I wondered who this Siti Aminah was, because I certainly don't know the husband, and even now, after attending the reception, I still don't know the husband because nobody introduced us and he never came around to introduce himself, much less to welcome us. There I met another Daro - Hj. Hassan's daughter and Echam's younger sister, also Bull's sister-in-law. I said loudly "this here Daro, in crutches but still daro ! (virgin)." 

Jamlus, Kak Ngah Hasnah, Wati and Wok, and Timah, Echam's other sister were all there, and we talked a bit. We took the newly opened Lekas highway from Ampangan Seremban all the way to Balakong and Seri Kembangan. Almost free of traffic, it was a nice change, especially it being a Saturday. Once we entered the Balakong-Seri Kembangan area, of course, things got back to the normal snarl. 

So, on the return journey I was determined to retrace our route back to Seremban. Unfortunately I took one turn too early and found ourselves back on the Plus KL-Seremban and smack into the Saturday south-bound jam. 

Congratulations to all three newly-wed couples. 

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I never learn.

6.3.2010.

I have to learn to fight my own fight, not someone else's. Talk is cheap. When the knives are drawn, the chicken usually run.

There was the time when Taib was ticked-off at the 10th. tee-box, many years ago, for talking too loudly while the flight in front was about to tee-off. I stupidly, though perhaps bravely, came to his defence, saying something like ok, ok, don't get riled-up. The golfer rushed to me and demanded I repeat what I'd just said in no uncertain tone. He put his face up to mine, spoiling for a fist-fight. I backed-off, because it wasn't my fight. Taib ? He just shut up. 

There was another time when our foursome - Ismail, Jamaluddin, Taib and I- had a brush with an intruding marshall who blithely drove his buggy across our path just as one of the other three in my flight was about to tee-off on the 7th. hole. I shouted, and what did the marshall do ? He actually turned around and got out of his buggy and rushed at me. I had shouted for the sake of my friend who was affected, but I go the fight. To cut the story short, all of us appeared before the Club's Disciplinary Board, since all four of us signed the written report. So what happened ? I told them exactly what happened, while I later gathered the other three said they were too far away to hear the words exchanged between me and the marshall. I mean, they could have been more committed and add weight to the incident rather than say something to the effect "it wasn't us, really". Only the fact that I challenged the Board about the priority on endangerment and the established fact that the marshall crossed the path of an active flight probably saved all of us from suspension, for which I was prepared to take legal action if carried out. 

Now this afternoon I attended the MUBARAK N.S. meeting. Ismail, until this afternoon's meeting the secretary, had discussed with me about bringing up his complain against the treasurer, Muhi. I assured him right this morning when we played 18 holes of golf that if the matter came up I would come to his defence. Aggressively if necessary, I added. It was a premonition.

There has been bad blood between Ismail and Muhi. I know the background and sympathised with Ismail. Muhi had been complaining to the President, Zahar,  that Ismail had been "interfering", just because Ismail had banked cheques directly, without going through Muhi. When the complain was finally brought up in a meeting about a year ago, I stepped in and said in my 26 years of service up to 1995, it was just the office boy who banked our cheques, not even an officer. I thought the matter rested there.

This month VUNS received a cheque from an Exco Member, a State cheque, meant for VUNS but as agreed by the Exco Member, made out to MUBARAK because the money cannot be credited to a political organization like VUNS. I told Ismail that it would simply take MUBARAK a payout from the cheque to VUNS. A simple administrative step. But that was not the spirit taken by the Muhi

Matters must have simmerred all this week, because Ismail surprised everybody at the meeting this afternoon, especially me, because he never gave an inkling about it to me although we were together from 7.30 a.m. to 12.30 p.m. He tendered his resignation with immediate effect.

In effect, after firing me up about the coming agenda on the cheque, he abondoned me. The subject was not listed on the agenda. On hindsight, I think the agenda was changed. However, the subject was raised by the Chairman himself. On hindsight, he must have been briefed by Muhi .  So, with no Ismail around, I explained to Zahar, the Chairman, the technical complication and the simple administrative step to solve it. And he agreed. 

Now, Muhi must have been sore because I  had taken the wind out of his sail. I'm pretty sure now that he thought he had missed his chance to condemn Ismail, in absentia. So what did he do?  After the matter was resolved because the Chairman accepted my presentation, he raised the matter again. I Interrupted him by saying the matter had been agreed by the chairman.  But he continued and further said, and this was when I saw red, he doesn't want MUBARAK to be the "kuda tunggangan" (made used-of). I raised my voice and demanded what kuda tunggangan?  and why are you making such an issue ? I lost my temper and said "you were my clerk before !" He was, when I was Felda Area Controller for NS. In fact I used to ask him to go to the market for me, because he also knew my wife. 

I supposed that was when hell broke loose. But that's a different story. The point is, again I was not fighting my fight. To put that incident in perspective, Ismail is a practicing lawyer, while the Muhi used to be only a clerk with SPM. 

I'm getting on in years, but cannot still hold my temper. I don't mind getting into a fight if I have to. Only next time I've to make sure it's my fight. 

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Turning Pro.

5.3.2010.

I've written about my wife's nephew, Mizi, before. Several weeks ago I had an argument with his dad at my house about letting the youngster turn professional golfer too early. I had meant to talk to him about it because I know he's the one behind that premature decision for his son, who's all of 19 years old now. His visit to my house and his starting comment about an impending tournament ( I think it was in Myanmar) gave me the opportunity to let him have an earful. But he was game, and gave me an earful, too.

For reference purposes, Mizi's score at the on-going 2010 Maybank Malaysian Open at KLGCC 4 -7 March can be checked. At the end of the partially completed second day (bad weather) his scores are 79 - 73, for a total of 152, which is 8 strokes above par. His tentative position is joint 142. He'll miss the cut for the remaining 2 days of the tournament, with the cut mark projected to be even par. In pro golf, above par is below class.

In golf missing the cut means you get 0 dollars. My argument for delaying pro-golf for at least 2 more years is that Mizi is not ready mentally, and pro golf is, as Ray Floyd said, "all mental". 

First, he has not accumulated enough wins as an amateur. Sure, his dad says he has 7 wins. But we are talking about the significant tournaments here. A lot of wins would give Mizi the knowledge of how to win. It will also build confidence, and the art of putting, the most important stroke, is all about confidence. Now that he's a pro and beginnig to miss cuts, his confidence will be shattered. 

Secondly, he needs to build good temperment without being concerned about not winning since he's still an amateur when no money is at stake. The most important element is patience, which has to be built through match plays. I have played with him since he started as a boy with a 24 handicap until he went down to scratch. He has temperment problems. 

The no. 1 player in the world did not turn pro until he was 21. For the last 6 years before that he had won in consecutive years 3 years as US Junior Champion followed by 3 years as US Amateur Champion. He was ready. Then he turned pro. Mizi is not ready.

I'd say the father's motivation is just greed, compounded by ignorance. He said the main reason he wanted Mizi to turn pro was because he had been left out of some big competitions. I said that is politics, not golf per se. We should consider the tecnical reasons for building up a pro golfer's career, not the politics of it.

Anyway I said all my arguments are now academic, because Mizi has taken the plunge, but I wanted to say it out, anyway. As I said to my golf buddies, I wish for the best for Mizi. But I'm afraid his father has gotten in the way. 

It's sad, because Mizi has the talents. But talents alone aren't sufficient for reaching world class standard, which is what we're talking about here. We should look at how champions are made when we have all the time in the world. What's the big hurry ?

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My kenduri for this year.

5.3.2010.

Hank and Bang Enon made comments on this blog and I thank them. But the final date of my kenduri for Dekna's  wedding has now been fixed for December, not October as planned earlier. Hafiz is with some oil-and-gas set up and has some vacation issues. I had to scramble back to MPS yesterday and sorted out the date-change. I don't want to get stranded with no venue. So the "nikah" will be on Thursday, 30th. December this year, for immediate family. The main reception for relatives and friends will be on Friday, 31st December, at the Dewan MPS Seremban, commencing at 8 p.m. I'm looking at the list of invitees, but Hank and Bang Enon are invited right now for the Friday date. 

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Balik kampong, tanam jagong.

5.3.2010.

"Balik kampong, tanam jagong" is more than merely returning home to plant corn.  It signifies giving up. But not in this case. 

Calit is moving into one more direction, this time planting corn to produce corn juice. Serious, not corny. What seems corny is, the corn is in Parit, Kuala Pilah, but the juice-machine is in Banting, Selangor. And Calit is in Setiawangsa. But that's Calit.

He stayed for years in Gombak, and later moved to a flat near Dato' Keramat but bought a house in Seremban 2 . Now he stays in an apartment in Setiawangsa. 

He played around in TMS, worked at MAS, got his BA at Wisconsin, his MBA in UKM, and now drives Padir around the Klang Valley - when not squba-diving (Padir, that is).

He said he was installing cooling systems, but helped fix my old D.U. house, and now this corn juice. So all the "sekolah kole" has produced some good. (I made a special trip to his still standing sekolah kole and took some photos with my camera-phone, but Dekna  refused to teach me how to download, so everything is still somewhere there, still inaccessible.) I'm happy Calit has crossed his hurdles. At least his stunted athletics days in TMS for being fastest over the hurdles but slowest between them is being put to good use.

Bus (pronounced "Boos") said Calit wanted to send one container of the juice. Calit said somebody asked for the uniform he was photographed in. I just want one bottle. 

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Husain Hj. Ali. RIP

5.3.2010.

We were more than classmates from Standard 6 to Form 3 in TMS. We were soulmates. On scrutiny we were very different in a lot of ways. But somehow we were close. 

Other than those four years in TMS, we only met again in Felda where both of us worked, me for a time, him until he retired. I sent him to Bilut Valley for his wedding. Because of our different types of work, while in Felda we would meet only occasionally at the canteen. 

There were the rare telephone calls and the Hari Raya visits, very rare, too, I must confess. I would also once in a blue moon bump into his wife at her place of work, because she was also in Felda, but in Port Kelang. 

We moved in different circles. But the friendship bonded in those early years -1957 to 1960 - never lessened one bit to the very end, as far as I'm concerned. That was why I could not hold back the tears that came briefly, briefly to my eyes when I finally met up with Shamsiah on her return from the cemetry that day in Puchong Perdana, 3rd. March.

I don't know what I saw in Husain Hj. Ali,  even through all these recent years I have sometimes thought about him. I must now regret forever that I had never followed up those feelings about wanting to surprise him at his house. I have his address and his old mobile number. I even used to have his old house address at Port Klang before he moved to this Puchong house. I went there once.

We used to cycle together, just the two of us, when we were in Form 3, just about the time for LCE. We agreed that those rides should be good for our exam preparations, and it did for me. I never found out how he fared because I had left for RMC. But those long rides are etched in my memory forever. We cycled to Bemban, Senaling, when there was only a laterite road. We cycled to Kubang Rusa through Sawah Lebar and on the long, swaying wooden bridge. We even cycled to Kg. Ibol, Terachi, 18 miles away. I remember him teaching me, in one of those bicycle rounds, to pull out "lombo" from a wild palm and suck the succulent roots, and then drink water that tasted sweet because of it.

Husain was surprisingly dark-complexioned although his parents and siblings were all fair-skinned. He was good natured about the ribbings he got from me and the rest of us in school. He even recited to me a pantun that I still clearly remember to this day - 

                   "Birah hitam, keladi hitam 

                    Tanam dalam lombah 

                    Ayah hitam, omak hitam 

                    Anak mano nak semonggah" 

 Coming from Galau and schooling in Kuala Pilah in those days were a big deal, because of transportation problems. Because Hajjah Tomah Maideen ( her maiden name was Fatimah, and she married the Indian grocer, Maideen) also came from the adjacent Gunung Pasir, Hj. Ali, Husain's father, managed to secure board and lodging for him with her in Bukit Temensu, also my kampong, which is just next to TMS. 

The fact that Hj. Ali was the Qadi of Kuala Pilah at that time must have also figured, I don't know. But this I know, and Husain himself told me about it - Hajjah Tomah had designs for him. She had an only daughter, Minah. I remember Minah, a tall and not bad looking lass, product of her mixed ancestry, with high nose and jet-black hair, and not a bad complexion. But Husain said no way.  "I'll have to use a ladder. She's too tall!" 

Another time Husain had a serious attack of diarrhoea, the whole night through. He had a habit of buying "kacang putih" during class recess, emptying the whole packet into his shorts pocket. This was not a convenience trick, but a strategy. A way of avoiding sharing. We were irritated by it. But somebody finally decided to act on it, although we were all privy to the masterplan. Somehow, he managed to slip some "biji cengkian" seeds from the wild plant into his kacang putih. Now, biji cengkian looks exactly like kacang putih. However, biji cengkian is a potent laxative. So there was Husain, happily dipping into his pocket and popping both kacang putih and biji cengkian into his mouth, and grinning around him because he didn't have to share with anyone, and there we were, grinning back at him, knowing our plan had succeeded.

Later he told me he had such a bad case of explosive diarrhoea he stayed up all night leaning against a coconut three outside Hajjah Tomah's house, spurting !.

Dear Husain, forgive me for remembering the inappropriate in this solemn hour. But this was a fond memory for me, and you have always been a fond friend. May Allah Bless you, my friend. 

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