Visiting A.K.Bear.

Sun 27 Jan 2019.

I'm sure I've written about Bear before this, but I'm writing now about our visit this morning.

Hank said earlier that a group of OP's were  to visit A.K.Bear yesterday, but I said I couldn't join them because of a prior engagement in Kuala Pilah. We agreed to do it today. Last night Hank called saying Razali wanted to join us, but to make it in the morning. So we finally met at the club around 9, and a 'phone call from Razali's wife got us the 10.30 appointment with Bear at his house. There were 5 of us - Razali, his wife and pilot son, and Hank & I.

Bear said he's 75, same as Razali. Bear had been a national tennis player since Form 5, even representing the country at that young age. We met after university because he joined Felda before the Civil Service. Through the years we would bump into each other. He frequently joined the OP's outings, often arriving late because he would always take the train to KL, which is the logical thing to do. I do it all the time, only lately preferring the bus, because it's faster. 

Bear had always appeared to be in good health then, if somewhat on the heavy side. I'd meet him at SIGC, of which he's a member but not a golfer. There are 2 hardcourt tennis courts, but they're hardly used, and lately even the nets appear abondoned. I've never seen Bear anywhere near them. He'd have his LTAM meetings at the club, and before this, often attended our club's AGM.

Sometime in 2016 or thereabout, we met at "the Giant" Ampangan. I was coming, Bear leaving. Then suddenly he fell near his Volvo, parked on the side road. I rushed to him, and so did, would you believe it, Kamariah Sabeh !(Hank might have something to say here.) As I tried to put Bear up into a sitting position on the kerb, I instructed (yes, "instructed", and in the appropriate tone) Kamariah to fetch a glass of water from the nearby restaurant, which she quickly did. When Bear appeared recovered, I asked if he could drive, to which he said "yes", and we saw him drive off home. 

The last year or so, some friends at the club said Bear was not well. Dato' Sulaiman also related about Bear getting into bad mood and tearing off his tubes when he had them for treatment. This story was borne true at his house this morning.

These were the news about Bear's ill-health. Hank and I went to Bear's house twice before this, but failed to meet him because he was in hospital both times. 

We met Bear sitting in his easy chair. He didn't get up. But he recognized us, and said he is ok. But obviously he isn't. His face looks shrunk, his large frame is smaller, and the big tennis thighs have lost their girths.  Mostly, his eyes betray the illness in his body. And he didn't say much, although he was following our talk.

Bear, Halim "Rock Foundation" (Bear's name for Halim),me and one more guy, Khalid (not an OP) were personally interviewd by the MB, the late Dr. Said, when applying for the NS State Scholarship after being accepted as undergraduates at the University of Malaya. Bear stayed at the First College, although, like us, he was from Seremban. Rock Foundation, Hank and I became housemates at the Malay Settlement, PJ, because we couldn't get into the Residential Colleges. Must be the "tennis" on his application form. Bear once had his Honda 90 motorcycle hauled up by some students all the way to the 4th. floor. There was no lift. I wonder to this day how he got the motorbike down.

Bear was also very briefly the GM for PKNS , on secondment from the Civil Service. But the adventure didn't last long. To put it simply, Bear is no politician. All his old friends know this. But we don't mind one bit. This is friendship lasting more than half-a-century. Friends can take anything.

Gratuitously I offered Bear's wife the suggestion that he reads one page of the Quran every day. It's food for the spirit, as taught to me by a religious teacher. I remarked to his son as we walked out, "look after your dad". I said to Hank as he exited my car, "pray for him, Hank".  We should supplicate for our well-being from the Merciful.  Friends can  show support and sympathy. That's what friendship is all about.

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FMC, the continuing story.

Sat 19 Jan 2019.

The FMC college gates in PD closed 57 long years ago. But the young boys, now old and many less than robust, remain in numbers, and the memories linger. Friends who got together to collect jottings of the years gone by surely are not penning the epilogue of Old Puteras of old ? For the journey continues. We were merely holding up the torch  for those coming after us.

Being the one premier education experiment for the nascent nation, FMC and its subsequent successor RMC didn't fail in producing champions in all fields as was expected of it. The heavy mixture of British staff that inevitably gave way to a fully Malaysian one did not lessen the sowing of the national spirit beating in the hearts of the boys. We were proudly multi-racial.  A few have even left our shores following destiny.  But the spirit of comradeship and the bond of nationalism have never lessen with time. Something was right in the approach to the education system  then. Or maybe it was us, the raw material. It's sad to see that the educational experimentation that continues to this day has not produced a stronger, more cohesive youth to take over the management of our beloved but often unnecessarily divided nation.

From champions in all kinds of sports at national and international levels, to prominence in the many fields of medicine,  in all  disciplines of engineering, in the teaching in, and  managing of, universities, in the practice of law, both on the bench, before the bench, as well as in teaching it,  in company management, in the Civil Service and, of course, in the Armed Forces and the Police, our OP's contribute a sizeable number of the personalities. And that number is not lacking in politics, either, though with varying shades of colours and degrees of success. The Cabinet has a very young OP, the Speaker of Parliament is a not-so-young OP, the Secretary-General of the rejected UMNO is an OP, many of the counsels for the different and opposing litigants in the flux of investigations by the authorities are OP's - even one of the prominent counsels now finding himself the subject of legal scrutiny of his own is an OP, plus that 1MDB guy. And the President of MUBARAK, the Former Legislative Members Association of Malaysia, of course, has to be an OP.

To tarry a bit on the subject of politics, maybe OP's don't make good  MP's and State Assemblymen, and by that I mean the quiet and obedient ones. I've seen enough examples, and that includes yours truly, where when it comes to the question of principles, perhaps the OP's upbringing puts him in a bind. Politics requires flexibilty. Principles are not so flexible. And I know principle has also kept my Terengganu "socialist" OP friend from entering the gory  party politicking. Maybe that's why his head is still full of black hair.

There's also "office politics". But it's still politics, and OP's, in my mind, also don't always do well here. I had my problems with one of my bosses, and I can assure you that it was about principles. We had a large number of  Chief Secretaries to the different Ministries, and some Chief Secretaries to the Government from among OP's. But there are also cases where OP's assigned to State bodies don't last long because they cannot align their styles with the MB's style. 

In my less-than-starry career, I'd move to Melaka, to KL, to Seremban,  to Port Kelang, to PJ, and finally Seremban again, and met many OP's at work or play.  When "The Weld" first opened, I bumped into Gnanalingam, who was with MTC, Kuantan. When I was in Port Kelang decades later, I bumped into him again. This time he'd move to West Port, although he didn't tell me then that he owns it (I believe another OP helped). In Felda there were several of us. Attending various conferences locally and abroad over the years, lo and behold, OP's were there. Why, one OP even managed to marry into my large extended Kuala Pilah family, and he all the way from Kedah. They had to marry in London, of course. 

Then of course there is my golf.  OP's are responsible.  

All these have kept my OP's memories fresh.

We've been through 14 GE's. That, and  60 years of  politics mean many changes.  Bigger political changes have taken place around us - Singapore, Indonesia, Thailand, Vietnam, Cambodia, Myanmar, even India.  Our own changes have been influenced by the scholastic background of the leaders. Maybe a  bit of military training in the schooling would have done  a world of good. 

Now they are changing the method of selection for boarding schools again, weighing in favour of the so-called "B 40" group. Which is honourable. But I hope quality is not spared. School  is the place to nurture the nation. 

I don't know how many more reunions we can attend. Time is  unrelenting. But we have our families and our memories.We can only hold on to these two for dear life. One sustains our worldly needs. The other sustains our spiritual needs.

They say we should look to the future. But shouldn't we learn from the past? My FMC days have long gone. But one or two lessons learned, and one or two friendships made, still bring a smile to my old lips.  And  light  up my old heart. 

 No, my FMC story is a continuing story, not an epitaph.

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A bit of golf.

Wed 16 Jan 2019.

I owe my golf  to two OP's.

In 1978 I was serving Felda as the "Area Controller" for NS(State Boss lah !), and the late  OP Dato' Ismail Mansor was the State Secretary. The SS's  and the MB's offices were then in the old pre-War Colonial building that was later turned into the state library. Felda had its own building close by. Ismail personally phoned me one morning. Nowadays it's always the PA or something.

       "Zam, come to my office now" he ordered.

He handed to me the Seremban International Golf Club membership application form. By virtue of being the SS, he was SIGC's V.P.

       "Sign" he ordered, again.

       "You pay the entrance fee (RM 500, at that time. It's 6,000                  now) in 2 instalments." Another order.

That's how I became SIGC Member Z 18. I was 34 and knew  nothing about golf. Tiger Woods was 2 at that time, but he was already showing-off on  tv his precocious golfing talents. So I was a non-playing, non-handicap member for 8 years, paying the club's dues of RM 20 every month, without ever stepping into the club's premises.

Hank, another OP, was my housemate during my first year at the university (there was only one solitary unversity in the country at that time). In 1986, some 18 years after our graduation, Hank suggested we take our handicap tests. He was a member of KGNS. So we practiced together at his club's driving range, because I was back in Felda HQ in KL by then. Hank took his test in KGNS, I took mine in SIGC.  Like Hank, that's how I got handicap 24 at 43. But unlike Hank, I've not stop playing since. 

When I was in Felda, I was one of the few who played then. In fact I played so much that it was 36 holes on weekends, and many leaves taken for golf. So much so, the Chairman ruled (verbally, but his word was Law) "don't take leave for golfing !". So I didn't. I mean, I still played, but this time without taking leave. Fortunately I was never caught.

When I was with MISC, we had Japanese clients who would perhaps give us 5 minutes when we visited them in their offices to talk business. But when we agreed to play golf together (and you know the Japanese are c-r-a-z-y about golf !) they would be more than happy to spend 5 hours talking busines and playing golf.

There's something about golf that caught my fancy. Maybe because I was "a mature beginner". Maybe because of Tiger. I'd been following his amateur career from 1990's including his US Amateur Championships that were shown on local tv. 

Along the way, I've held membership cards of other golf clubs, but none I cherish more than the one that says "OPA Golf Section membership no. Z 036 member since 28 / 06 / 89". Now I hear the tragic news that this course, located next to the Mines, next to  the old Sg. Besi RMC campus, is going to be closed. I plead that the powers that be spare this site. It's a real "commando" course and leaving it to golf is no loss to the area's development. Let's keep this bit of green patch for nostalgia.

Over the years I've played with other OP's, by design or accident. Shah, Nor Shaari, Md. Nor, Shukdarshan, Khairuddin, the late Yahya, and of course Hank, to name some. By design, when there were arranged games; by accident, when we bumped into each other, usually at KGNS or RSGC. There are a few OP's in Seremban, too. But sadly, one by one they're hanging up their clubs.  Hank is one. 

Being self-taught, I'd wanted to acquire the skills in this  wonderful game. Over time I'd come to realise the philosophy, the mental part of golf that can be learned. It's one game where your main opponent is yourself. It's one game where the learning never stops. In fact a new perspective to many facets of the game would appear again and again, as you play it, as you watch others play it, as you read about it, even as you reflect on your always very varied daily rounds.

In 32 years of playing the game, I'd learned that a round of golf would reveal a person's true character. An earnest attitude about improving builds character. To learn more, I'd collected 111 books and bought countless magazines. The oldest book was  printed in 1901. To help apply the theories from the books, I'd collected 121 clubs. Putters alone I have 12. I'd brought my handicap down from 24 at age 43, to 6 at age 63. That's about 18 strokes in 20 years. It doesn't seem much, but  it's entirely self-taught. And right now at 74, my handicap card says "11". That's not too bad, if I may say so myself. 

Looking at the sport as a national game, it's one where size doesn't matter. And as I play and observe,  prodigous length off the tee is not the deciding factor. It's the ideal sport for our dimunitive sportsmen to excel in.  Just look at the Thais, the South Koreans, the Japanese, the Taiwanese, the Bangladeshis and the Filipinos. 40% of all shots are in putting, using the shortest club of all.

Looking at the sport as life-long past-time, well, I'm available as an example, I think.  I took it up late. I taught myself. And I'm healthy enough to play 9 holes 5 days a week, and with a small wager to sweeten the walk, still managed for the last 15 years to make an average of RM 386 per month. Not Tiger-ish, but I'm not a pro. And it pays for lost balls.

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