The right dose.

 Mon May 31, 2021.

Tomorrow we start the new "complete" lockdown for 2 weeks. Again.

As the government gropes and fumbles for ways and means of  controlling the pandemic, the virus, like gravity, is relentless. I say like gravity because it's permanently there. You bend down, or reach out, and you lose balance, down you go. Lock down, close shop, stay put, but the virus doesn't care. It finds its way. If the barrier put up is porous, leaky, it finds its way even easier.

The groping and fumbling government  may not be even facing in the right direction.  Case in point. The LRT crash in the tunnel. To force social spacing, the occupancy is reduced. But to do that it reduced the frequency. Perhaps less frequent equals less people in them. But actually less coaches means more pile up.  It should have been more coaches to allow for less crowding, a complete opposite action.

Stupid, or crazy Tajuddin, the Prasarana chairman who was kicked out after the disasterous press conference, is an example of the fumblings of the government - in making stupid or crazy appointments for  GLC's. Stupid might be not so dangerous, though it's bad enough. Crazy is another thing. Tajuddin thought he was funny when he said the trains "kissed" each other. 200 lives were put into grave danger after being hurt, and many are still in critical condition. Fatal is not funny. Crazy !

Statistics are statistics. What did Mark Twain say ? There are lies, and there are statistics. But these figures flouted around by both those who don't know and those who know, must mean something. Something about the subject at hand , as well as something about the gatherer of the numbers. Are the gathering of the numbers exhaustive and accurate ? Right now Malaysia is the champion in terms of the "per million" affliction ratio. Is the figure for India and China accurate ? Swaths of geography may be uncovered by the enumerator. Like in remote Indonesia. Or even Alaska.  Accurate, it means Malaysia is in deep shit. Not accurate, it means India and others like that are in deeper shit.

Selangor is Malaysian champion now. But that's to be expected. Most of the industries, most of the foreigners and most of the total population are in Selangor. The fear is, are the numbers accurate ? My fear is, they are under-reported.

In the mean time, the government also fumbles badly on the vaccination issue. The supply is one thing. When neighbouring Singapore settled that question months ago, we're still in the dark about ours. Not just "how much", but also "which make". In brand-conscious Malaysia, "which make" is very important. "Brand conscious" ?  Until recently Malaysians  refer to toothpaste as "Colgate"! 

Many Malays in Peninsula Malaysia are not "vaccination-friendly". That knowledge I am party to. My feeling is, many others - Chinese, Indians, and Sabah-Sarawakians, are the same, although I have no personal examples. Some Muslim religious groups also throw doubt about "halal-haram" issues and the social distancing "man-made" order. Terengganu and Kelantan clusters are proofs of that unkind proposition.

Decades ago we had the small-pox innoculation enforced on all children, and those old enough still carry the scars on their upper arms. The scurvy that caused illness and deaths on sailors  before the turn of the century were finally stopped with vitamin C. But the small-pox innoculations and the vitamin C's  were after years of tests. Covid 19 vaccines are as new as the pandemic itself. The very different effectiveness, even reports of very grave side-effects, of the many makes now produced (not necessarily available - this apparently depends on how "Western" and wealthy your country is, with the exception of China) doesn't make things easier for anybody.

As a Muslim, I'm comfortable with the knowledge that the Holy Quran says "to every diesease there is a cure". And  the Prophet SAW said "when there is epidemic (cholera) don't cross borders". Vaccines have been found, effective or not.  Cross-border orders have been implemented, effective or not.  These point in the right direction, in terms of human endeavour.  Effctive implementation and proper plans are two very different propositions in Malaysia, however. They ought to follow each other, but not necessarily here.  The government behaves haphazardly, overturning decisions almost immediately. The virus waits for no one. That is the reality. The people is a herd that needs herding. But the herder is not herding. Not in a decisive way. They're behaving like politicians first, and responsible leaders last. Right now they're on top of each other. The followers must behave in the right way, scientifically speaking. We can make changes when the time comes. The right dose will be needed.

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IDAH turns the corner !

 Sun 23 May 2021.

Tomorrow Idah turns 71 ! That's a big corner !

We've been together for practically a half-century now.  On December 3 this year we'll hopefully celeberate our Golden Wedding Anniversary.

We go back a long way.

Our two families know each other  from Tg. Malim days in 1950. Both our fathers taught at the SITC then. That was before it was upgraded and required graduate teachers. Our parents were only SITC Diploma holders themselves. But SITC was the premier Malay teacher's college of the day. Ghaffar Baba, Syed Nasir, Aminuddin Baki, Nordin Bachik, Razak and Zainal Abidin Ali were some of the better known staff and sudents I can still remember. Many went on to bigger things in their lives. Our parents returned to the Malay primary schools back in NS, where both eventually retired.  My mother from "Rumah Empat" would visit Mak Cik Bonun at "Rumah Enam" across the college padang, and vice versa. I hadn't known Idah yet, but remember Cik Ani, closer my age because we went to the same Malay and English schools, but did not talk to one another yet.

Back in NS, our parents maintained casual contact. Mak Cik Bonun also used to visit Amok in Kuala Jempol, so Amok helped maintain that contact.

Around '63/'64 Cik Ani came to the house in Tebat Kering. Dik Di came along. I can't remember why they came, but Cik Ani told me that she would be getting married to Bang Piei. She asked if I knew him, and I said sure, he was the School Captain. 

I was a temporary teacher, waiting to enrol into the University of Malaya. I made friends with a TMS student, Nazri, who was from around Serting Ilir area, and we got to talking about one "Faridah, anak Cikgu Ujang", a student at TKS, next to TMS. So we would sometimes hang around the KP bus stand, to catch a glimpse of "anak Cikgu Ujang". Nazri must have had a fancy on her. So did another TMS student, Husain, the son of Idah's neighbour in Lonek. But I didn't know him. In fact Husain's mother had already jokingly been referring to Idah as "my daughter-in-law". But all this I learned later. A few times in our rounds, Nazri and I would catch the sight of Idah in the bus, and she would look at us, obviously knowing our interest. "Gatal !"

In 1965, my first year at the university, I met Azahari Aliff, another Tg. Malim old friend. The university student population wasn't huge like nowadays..  I had a Honda motorcycle. Azahari had a Lambretta. That university break we agreed to ride to Mentakab and  Melaka.  Mentakab was where another old Tg. Malim family friend was located. Kg. Morten in Melaka was where Azahari's house was. In between Azahari suggested we visit Cikgu Ujang in Lonek. Makcik Bonun was bailing water from a well near the window of the bedroom. It's not there now. She was pleasantly surprised when Azahari introduced ourselves. She called out Idah who was at her late uncle's house behind her house. She just gave us a casual look. We didn't stay long, and took the Padang Lalang road, inside, to get to KP and Tampin and Melaka. The "inside" roads were not yet metalled, then. Fortunately it was dry.

When in my second job in Felda hq, I stayed in Kg. Baru, with Conen. The rented house was on the same road as Kak Zawiah's house. We used to see Aji, Idah's late elder brother, walking by, all in white - must be  school uniform. One time we stopped him and asked "Fauzi ke ?" He said yes but did not offer to prolong the conversation. After  May 13, we moved to Ampang Jaya.

One day Bang Dek called. He was at the Ministry of Agriculture. He asked to arrange a meeting with Aladin, the Director of Social Services at that time. I did. After the meeting Bang Dik invited me to his house, also in Ampang Jaya and on the same road - Jalan 4 C. Later he moved to "Juwita" down the road, I can't remember the number. "Idah ada" he said, without my asking. He must have thought that I know her well.

One Sunday I had just returned from Fraser's Hill. It was late in the evening but was still light. 1969 traffic wasn't like now. Now it'd be impossible to make it back before midnight. Anyway, I was just taking off my shoes when Idah strolled in front of the house, in Japanese slippers. Evening walk, probably. She looked at me. "Hi" I said. I invited her for a short ride around Ampang Jaya.

The rest is history.

Now there's pain here, there's pain there. She shares the supplements. For the first time in 50 years we fasted "puasa enam" together. I told Wafa, our granddaughter, to say "Happy Birthday" to her "neni". "Neni" poked her head into my room. "Where's the present?"

There are 11 grandchildren now, with one more on the way. All four kids went through college and are gainfully employed, thank God. They have their own families, their own houses, and even if for the second time in a row, the Hari Rayas have been separate, we're thankful that it's been a good life, so far.

Now I've to turn the corner and get Dekna to conjure something for a small celebration.  I always do them one day in advance.

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Finally, vaccinated.

 Fri 21 May 2021.

Yesterday I finally got my Covid 19 vaccination. And in spite of all the hue and cry about it for the whole country for the last six months, it was a surprise.

It was a surprise for many reasons.

I can't remember exactly but think it was in late February that I first registered for vaccination. It was rather casual, really. I didn't plan it. I'd gone for my half-yearly medical check-up at the government's Klinik Ampangan. As the lady staff was checking me in, she asked if I wanted to get my Covid 19 vaccination, which had started then. I said yes, and she jotted down my i.c. number and my mobile number at the back of the tiny ticket printed for the que for the day's medical appointment. And by the way, would your wife like to have it, too, she added, and I said ok, and she wrote her i.c. on another tiny bit of scrap lying on the table. Until last month nothing happened. No calls. No messages.

Last month Maulud suggested I go to the town hall where they are doing the vaccination, among many other centres in Seremban. He got his there. That, too, was casual for him. He went to check, found his name in the p.c. they had, and got injected right there and then. I went and checked but found I wasn't registered in their system. I told them about the Klinik Ampangan thing. But they registered me after I requested them to, since there was no record of me on the "My Sejahtera" with them.. But it's been a month and there's been no news. Or so I thought.

All this time, there have been many articles in the media, and talk among family and friends about the whole vaccination thing. A neighbour, Cikgu Satar, also stopped by the house one day and spoke about his imminent vaccination appointment. The situation is seriously weighed by two opposing opinions - for and against vaccination. Cikgu Satar quoted a fireman who told him to not get vaccinated, and gave stories of bad experiences. But apparently scientific personalities have been putting out long, studious-looking articles both supporting and rejecting vaccination. My wife and No. 3 son are against it. Dato' Sulaiman and Ong Tiong Meng have been urging me to get it done, continuously. I was unsure.

When I was small, maybe seven decades ago, I remember the innoculations for small pox or something made compulsory at that time. I got mine. We all have that scar on our upper arm to show for it. If I'm not mistaken, they  dabbed your upper arm  with the medicine, then scratched on it. That's why we carry the rather obvious scar. That's why some took the trouble to have it done on less prominent spots on their bodies. Now the vaccinations are here again.

I've been lulled into indifference about the whole thing. If they don't call, I won't call to check. That was the decision. It was not anti-vaccination as such. The one fact that stands out for me is the argument that the various vaccines with different effectiveness have been rushed through. These things surely require time and study. It seems that politics have overcome science.

Yesterday I was at home. It was 9 in the morning. This was my fifth day of the 6-day Syawal fast. The mobile rang. It was Dato' Sulaiman. Normally it would be the whatsapp. Then most probably I'd miss the action required because I'd go through the whatsapp I receive daily later in the day. 

             "Give me your i.c. number"

5 minutes later he called back.

           "Your vaccination time is 10 a.m. at Klinik Senawang"

I dropped my kain pelikat and old t shirt, shaved (my stubbles were 2 days old - you have to keep appearances, man), saw that the wife (also fasting like me) was still in bed, snoring, and jumped into the car. Which way is Klinik Senawang ? A 1-ton lorry made sure that about 10 cars behind it would tail it for 3 km before the junction for another 2 km to the Klinik. My car was no. 10. This time of the day you can expect the car park at the clinic to be full. It was overfilled. Fortunately, just as I crawled along, a car in one of the parking slots pulled out, in front of me. I looked at my watch. 9.45 ! I took the first entrance and asked about the vaccination station. It was not the right entrance. Three more stops and seeking directions. I finally made it. 2 blue-uniformed nurses (not the normal colour, I thought) at the table passed some forms to fill, including one absolving the Klinik of resposibility for any misadventure, checked my submitted name into their pc and found my name in the list, pointed me to the next table. It was a young female doctor. She didn't even look at the medical report I had with me from Dr. Miszua. She just ticked my name, and asked to take a number hung on a neck-string and to put it on, and pointed to the yellow line and said follow it. I was met by 2 doctors at the end of the yellow line. My particulars were checked. Then I was told to go the the nurse at the table about 5 m. away. That was the jab-station. "Left arm, please, you're right handed." And it was over. No pain. Now back to the last doctor. "Appointment for 2nd dose in 3 weeks. Now go to that nurse for 15 minutes of observation for ill-effects. Give me back your tag." After about 15 minutes the nurse said you can go home  now.

Two articles about the loss of defence immediately following vaccination were only read when I reached home. I'm taking it very seriously. I'll confine myself for 6 weeks after this. But without this knowledge, I had casually turned into the Giant supermarket. What saved me was, somehow My Sejahtera recorded me "red" on my mobile. I was denied entry. OK you don't want my money, I'll go to Mydin nearby. Again my mobile showed "red" and was stopped. I went home, irritated. How can they know about the vaccination on the mobile, because that must have been it. When I read the articles, I realized I'd been saved from making contacts when my body was losing defence fast. Lucky me.

I sms'd Dato' Sulaiman, thanking him and relating the rest. I said no golf for now.

Looks like no Friday prayers for now , too. 

The State government issued an order yesterday that mosques must follow the sop 21 May - 7 June where only a congregation of 12 (twelve !) is allowed. Maulud sent the article. I said "when Nungka Nagkir ask who told you, I'll say Maulud"

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My world moves on.

2 Syawal 1442 H

Fri May 14, 2021.

 My world moves on.

For the second year in succession, I had to lead my own Aid ilfitri prayers at home, with a congregation of three - the wife and only daughter. How could I not be emotional from the start of the "al Fatihah ?"  The global, relentless pandemic that forces governments to act, apparently in good interest, but obviously in a bad way, has everyone suffering. The three empty bedrooms I went into after subuh prayers; the occupants still sound asleep in  two others;  and the quiet of the whole house on this dawn of Syawal 1- they remind me of times different. The start of the "al Fatihah" brought all together in my mind.

Hanif spoke of the surau registering everyone who wanted to attend Aid ilfitri prayers, limited to a meaningless 20. Muhyiddin's backdoor government said mosques may allow only committee members. The syaria'ah's rule of 40 for a "jema'ah" can't even be met.  Hanif asked what's the meaning of allowing prayers yesterday and denying it today. Well, Hanif, today the order starts.

Fortunately, my pc and smart phone keep me connected to friends and to world news. Friends keep the cheer. You cherish them even more. How fortunate to have friends and family who take the trouble to stay connected. This very posting is because of them. For the rest of the world, it is not always with cheer.

This little country of mine offers no alternatives for me. I'm born here, I live here, and will die here. I wish the authorities holding power could be wiser. Right from the Agong at the top of the vested powers, to the enforcement officers at the bottom,  law and order could be better meted out. Legitimacy aside, the wantonness of rules that put livelyhoods at peril astound. The details are inexhaustible. Opening and shutting up of markets is totally indifferent to timing and the income of the poor petty traders.  Rich and poor are hit, but the comparative punishment show either it is deliberate, cruel and partisan, or worse, unintended, thoughtless or stupid. "Whims and fancies" sound familiar.

Nearly 100 years ago we are told of the cruelty of the anti-Jew Third Reich in Europe. After WWII the Allied Forces allowed a British Lord to declare the formation of Israel, ignoring the rights of the Palestanians who own the land.  For the last 75 years this illegal and cruel action is today sustained and even enhanced by the Israeli regime who right in the middle of the pandemic and Ramadhan have bombarded "selective military targets" in densely populated Palestine, officially killing "scores" of people. How is this possible without the condonement of the likes of USA and Western countries?   How is it possible that less than 4 million Jews who claimed to have been persecuted in Europe can continue to kill Arab Muslims in a sea of 100 million  Arabs ? Would we see retribution in our own lifetime ?

What's USA's and the West's  interest in seeking Israel's survival since 1946 at all costs ? Is it the remorse of Hitler's holocaust ? The 6 million Jews who perished have been more than made up by the number of Arabs murdered since, not Americans or Europeans, but Arabs. 

Maybe it's time the shift of world economic power move from USA to China. The Chinese are no less guilty in their evil plans for the Muslim Uighurs in the largely agnostic country. But Chinese economic world power could make the difference in the Middle-Eastern geopolitical turmoil.

The 3 empty rooms stare at me. The intended occupants have since responded accordingly.  I keep busy, touching brush paint here, polishing brass there, cementing cracked walls and floors everywhere.  My room remains cluttered, but I know where things are. My 2021 Ramadhan has passed.  I'd tried to fill it with remorseful  supplication and hopeful prayers for the children and their children. My world moves on.

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The Masjid.

Thursday May 6, 2021.

Today is the 24th day of the fasting month. In 6 days it'll Eid il Fitri. But in many places here, it could be Eid with empty mosques for the second year in running because of the pandemic's movement control order. 

The "masjid" means the place where one prostrates (sujud) in prayers. To me it signifies a place of worship that should be treated sacrosanct. The faithful should find peace and tranquility in performing his prayers each time he steps into it. Since I started work at the Felda HQ, I'd go early to the Technical College mosque just across the road. (It's a grand new concrete building now, replacing that old  low-roofed wooden one.) This early bird practice,  I'd been able to mostly keep until today. I remember the late Hj. Nasir, my MD then, remarking "you're going to Heaven lah" when I excused myself, talking to him one day, to go for  Friday prayers. He beat me to it.

More recently, Dato' Sulaiman said " first to come, first to leave" when I posted him a video of the still empty mosque that I went to for Friday prayers. But it is  true that I often find myself to be the first to arrive. And I told Dato' Sulaiman I don't leave early.

This coming early had consequenses.

Some years back I went early to the Sg. Landak mosque for  fajr during a fasting month. The gate was still locked. I couldn't turn my car around  because of the steep road going into the compound on a hill. I had to wait for several minutes before the bilal arrived with the key. I sarcastically asked him "banyak harta Karun ke masjid ni ?" When it happened again a few days later, I decided to try alternative places.

This year I switched  to the State Mosque. I could have gone to the Paroi Jaya mosque, which I did the year before Covid 19.  But the Paroi Jaya mosque committee decided that renovations cannot wait, fasting or not. Why the interests of Ramadhan made way for the repair work evades me. This means the jemaah prays in disarray, with on-going work in the main hall, and the congregation split up and mostly cooled only by the fans.

The other reason I chose the State Mosque was because the uniformed security is strict with the s.o.p. Paroi Jaya is self-policed. You know what that means for the Malays. The State Mosque, early into the PKP ,was in fact so severe with the s.o.p. that the gates were only open one hour before the prayer time. So, a few times I had to twiddle thumbs on my bike until they were  opened up. 

Happily, soon after that the one hour rule has  been discarded. But still, this morning I found the second entrance into the prayer hall locked. I had to go down the stairs around the female entrance to reach the main  entrance.

Both mosque officials and some worshippers make the quiet peaceful place of pray sometimes wanting.

I go to the mosque to try and immerse myself into the spirit of Ramadhan. I would reach for the Quran and sit in a corner to read it. But then things happen. The testing of the microphones should be early in the morning, when no worshipper  is around, not 30 minutes before azan. And the discussions between officials could be in lower volume, respectful to the  worshippers. The "library rule" isn't impossible to enforce.

The mosque is closed up for air conditioning. With the a/c off it gets  hot and stuffy pretty quickly. But the presence of  early worshippers doesn't prompt officials to turn on the a/c. Nor to turn the lights on when people are obviously trying to read in the poor light. Worshippers suffer the stuffy air and the dim light until about half-an-hour before prayer time. And the opposite is true, too. After the main rituals, everything is turned off, even if many people still linger with the "sunnats" prayers or  the "wirid"

Many worshippers come clad in Arabic and other "Islamic" garb. I would have thought that piety makes them dress in that way. Piety is not shown when chatter and laughter is shared regardless of  other people aound them trying to pray or read the holy book. Pity.

The syariah teaches one to recite the prayers just loud enough to hear them yourself, but not so that someone beside you can also hear you. Clearly too many either don't know the rules, or choose to diregard them.  As I said, many dress like Islamic scholars. It's just fashion, it seems.

This mosque also distributes food and drinks to the jemaah, for iftar and sahur. It's announced many times that it would do that. Contributions are welcomed. Being the State Mosque, I'm sure the funds are there, anyway. But unlike some other mosques I'd been to, where the people and officials come together right there and cook the "bubur lambuk", here it's prepared elsewhere. That's ok.  But surely a State Mosque could provide a better place for dining than on the steps. Some even stand beside their cars to eat.

This is not a list of  bad things. It's noting small irritations that are avoidable, if only everyone is attentive. Often the sermons lecture of show of piety to not only be in Ramadhan, but other months, too. To me, at least one month a year I make an effort to be a good Muslim. But an atmosphere conducive to improving the sense of Godliness goes a long way in aiding a faltering practitioner like me. I can pray in my room. But the mosque gives the sense of holiness. 

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