My first encounter with animals was in Alor Akar, Kuantan way back in 1961. They were not as pets though. They were more as food for a small hunter or trapper like me.
The first were Yellow-vented bulbuls (merbah). Uncle Mat Saman (my father's colleague) brought me along during his trapping trips to birds' natural bathing area in the jungle nearby.
We used a special natural glue made of jack-fruit (nangka) sap among others, pasted onto long bamboo skewers which were then placed near the pond where bulbuls frequented.
The birds would get themselves stuck to the bamboo skewers as they landed on them.
It was very uncommon sight for us two bringing a pail full of birds at the end of such trips.
Most of the time it was my duty to process the birds. By processing I mean defeathering, degutting and getting them ready for deep frying.
I enjoyed what I did. The delicious finger-licking fried bulbuls were unforgettable.
Then there were the mousedeer (kancil or pelanduk). We caught them using traps. As bait we used the shoots of a jungle tree (red in colour). Passing mousedeer would never miss it for anything - thet was why our traps were never empty.
It was the skin of these mousedeer that was special to me. Properly prepared, they tasted very good, even better than the shark-fin!
Friday, May 15, 2009
Thursday, May 14, 2009
The Three Cousins
The three of them, Diyana, Shapawi and Nor were born just a week apart some twenty five years ago.
They are cousins, the three of them. Diyana, of course is ours; Shapawi is my wife's brother's second son and Nor my wife's another brother's third daughter (she was a TKCian)
Still remember how my late mother-in-law had to travel between our houses (ours in KT, Shapawi near Air Putih and Nor in Kg Gong Limau) to look after them and their mothers just after they were born.
Don't know just why,but only Diyana and Shapawi are close, even from when they were still toddlers.
Time travels fast. They were all adults now. Diyana has just graduated with a law degree from IIUM and is going for an interview with SC the end of this month, Shapawi is now working after getting his diploma and Nor is now a chemical engineer with PETRONAS.
Shapawi beat his two cousins in as far as getting married is concerned. He and Maimunah@Yati were just married 8 May 2009.
For the hantaran (wedding gifts) he specially begged my wife to prepare. He knew well his aunt's prowess in decorating wedding gifts.
Nor was the second among them. She was engaged to an aeronautical engineer from Malacca a week's earlier.
Well, ours is still single.
They are cousins, the three of them. Diyana, of course is ours; Shapawi is my wife's brother's second son and Nor my wife's another brother's third daughter (she was a TKCian)
Still remember how my late mother-in-law had to travel between our houses (ours in KT, Shapawi near Air Putih and Nor in Kg Gong Limau) to look after them and their mothers just after they were born.
Don't know just why,but only Diyana and Shapawi are close, even from when they were still toddlers.
Time travels fast. They were all adults now. Diyana has just graduated with a law degree from IIUM and is going for an interview with SC the end of this month, Shapawi is now working after getting his diploma and Nor is now a chemical engineer with PETRONAS.
Shapawi beat his two cousins in as far as getting married is concerned. He and Maimunah@Yati were just married 8 May 2009.
For the hantaran (wedding gifts) he specially begged my wife to prepare. He knew well his aunt's prowess in decorating wedding gifts.
Nor was the second among them. She was engaged to an aeronautical engineer from Malacca a week's earlier.
Well, ours is still single.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
MALAYSIAN TOILETS
Cleanliness is a pre-requisite in Islam. In fact it is half of faith - everybody know this.
The question is: How many of us practise and make this their way of life?
I'm not going to give you the answer to this question, but instead will describe the sorry and disgusting state of most of our toilets. Ironically, most masjid's and surau's (the places that require cleanliness) toilets are the worst
Just pop into any Malaysian toilet, most often than not you will find it less than desirable. The odour - be it ammoniacal, that of petai, etc is chasing away would-be patron; the wet and mouldy floor and walls and the rubbish strewn all over make us wonder whether their users are aware of the state their toilets are.
I guess we should change the word toilet (tandas) to rest room (bilik rihat) as may be the word toilet conjures the meaning od some place that should be dirty and uncomfortable to be in.
During our stay in the States we witnessed how well they take care of their toilets. Well, I don't mean their private rest room, but also their public ones.
In my department, the rest room was really somewhere to rest. It was equipped with a sofa and the environment was so clean that a poor undergraduate made it his sleeping area.
In our adopted family's bungalow the situation was more extreme. The entire rest room floor and walls were fully carpetted, even the toilet seat! I wondered how then they did their things.
I was told that they read and searched for ideas while on the toilet seat!
The question is, is it that out toilet practice needs a revolution? Are we using too much water in cleaning ourselves and thus wetting the room too much too often? Or is it the food that we consume that makes our rest room stinks?
A friend told me that he was surprised seeing how friends from New Zealand used his rest room. They do not wet the floor at all even when they had their sower.
May be the practice of using floor towels to dry off toilet floor (as provided by many five star hotels) is the answer.
May be we should really look into the prescribed way of cleaning ourselves...using something coarse first before using the water.
I don't have the answer to this issue, but we all should do something drastic to change. We will never reach a developed nation status as long as our rest rooms are still uncomfortable to be in.
Though it sounds too trivia for a serious discussion to many, I think it should be the main agenda for our government to improve the outlook of our rest rooms. Just providing fee collectors and rest room cleaners are not sufficient.
Our rest room use culture should change. We all should change our practice of cleaning ourselves and keeping our rest room clean.
It is my dream to run over to any public rest room in Malaysia, be it in gas station, restaurants, bus station, etc. whenever I have to answer the call of nature and find it a pleasant place to be in doing our things.
The question is: How many of us practise and make this their way of life?
I'm not going to give you the answer to this question, but instead will describe the sorry and disgusting state of most of our toilets. Ironically, most masjid's and surau's (the places that require cleanliness) toilets are the worst
Just pop into any Malaysian toilet, most often than not you will find it less than desirable. The odour - be it ammoniacal, that of petai, etc is chasing away would-be patron; the wet and mouldy floor and walls and the rubbish strewn all over make us wonder whether their users are aware of the state their toilets are.
I guess we should change the word toilet (tandas) to rest room (bilik rihat) as may be the word toilet conjures the meaning od some place that should be dirty and uncomfortable to be in.
During our stay in the States we witnessed how well they take care of their toilets. Well, I don't mean their private rest room, but also their public ones.
In my department, the rest room was really somewhere to rest. It was equipped with a sofa and the environment was so clean that a poor undergraduate made it his sleeping area.
In our adopted family's bungalow the situation was more extreme. The entire rest room floor and walls were fully carpetted, even the toilet seat! I wondered how then they did their things.
I was told that they read and searched for ideas while on the toilet seat!
The question is, is it that out toilet practice needs a revolution? Are we using too much water in cleaning ourselves and thus wetting the room too much too often? Or is it the food that we consume that makes our rest room stinks?
A friend told me that he was surprised seeing how friends from New Zealand used his rest room. They do not wet the floor at all even when they had their sower.
May be the practice of using floor towels to dry off toilet floor (as provided by many five star hotels) is the answer.
May be we should really look into the prescribed way of cleaning ourselves...using something coarse first before using the water.
I don't have the answer to this issue, but we all should do something drastic to change. We will never reach a developed nation status as long as our rest rooms are still uncomfortable to be in.
Though it sounds too trivia for a serious discussion to many, I think it should be the main agenda for our government to improve the outlook of our rest rooms. Just providing fee collectors and rest room cleaners are not sufficient.
Our rest room use culture should change. We all should change our practice of cleaning ourselves and keeping our rest room clean.
It is my dream to run over to any public rest room in Malaysia, be it in gas station, restaurants, bus station, etc. whenever I have to answer the call of nature and find it a pleasant place to be in doing our things.
Monday, May 11, 2009
A Picture of School Chums
The first thing that caught my attention today was a rolled-up picture. It was a memento from Class 72 SDAR Reunion 55 in Perlis.
Sadly, like in PD, I missed it. In both cases it was my bleeding piles that prevented me from reuniting with sleeping-eating-and-playing-together school chums.
Most of them looked old (as if I am not!) physically - either greying hair, greying eyebrows, beard and moustaches. Ismail Shamsuddin (our iron-man) looked much older than the last time we met.
Razak, Ramli Musa and Zainul Harun all sported a prominent helipad (Hack forehead). Sheikh Raziff (my standard one classmate) looked old besides Hamidin who looked as young as forever.
The youngest (in appearance) was of course our Orang Bulan (Wan Shariff). His youth was understandble....
Me? Well I'm still as slim as those days...hair, beard, moustaches and even hairbrows and chest hair are all greying....
Sadly, like in PD, I missed it. In both cases it was my bleeding piles that prevented me from reuniting with sleeping-eating-and-playing-together school chums.
Most of them looked old (as if I am not!) physically - either greying hair, greying eyebrows, beard and moustaches. Ismail Shamsuddin (our iron-man) looked much older than the last time we met.
Razak, Ramli Musa and Zainul Harun all sported a prominent helipad (Hack forehead). Sheikh Raziff (my standard one classmate) looked old besides Hamidin who looked as young as forever.
The youngest (in appearance) was of course our Orang Bulan (Wan Shariff). His youth was understandble....
Me? Well I'm still as slim as those days...hair, beard, moustaches and even hairbrows and chest hair are all greying....
MOTHER'S & FATHER'S DAY
Mothers deserve more than just a Mother's day.
A day is grossly insufficient for ones who brought us into this world, nursed us all through our infancy, taught us, love/d and care/d for us as long as they live.
It would not be an exaggeration if we devote everyday of our lives as Mother's day.
So too are our fathers. They are rarely appreciated as mothers are.
They are normally the unsung heroes, remembered mostly when they were gone.
A story from our Prophet Muhammad's (pbuh) time: A son met Prophet Muhammad and complain about his father who was fond of taking home things.
On hearing that Prophet Muhammad went to see the father and asked him why. He then explained his reason. Tears flowed down Prophet Muhammad's cheeks.
He then called the son and said: "You and all your properties are your father's".
It is true what our elders said that a mother and a father could take good care of nine children, but nine children most often fail to give the same to their mother and father!
A day is grossly insufficient for ones who brought us into this world, nursed us all through our infancy, taught us, love/d and care/d for us as long as they live.
It would not be an exaggeration if we devote everyday of our lives as Mother's day.
So too are our fathers. They are rarely appreciated as mothers are.
They are normally the unsung heroes, remembered mostly when they were gone.
A story from our Prophet Muhammad's (pbuh) time: A son met Prophet Muhammad and complain about his father who was fond of taking home things.
On hearing that Prophet Muhammad went to see the father and asked him why. He then explained his reason. Tears flowed down Prophet Muhammad's cheeks.
He then called the son and said: "You and all your properties are your father's".
It is true what our elders said that a mother and a father could take good care of nine children, but nine children most often fail to give the same to their mother and father!
Monday, May 4, 2009
Save our Rivers
Karam Singh Walia (KSW) , the mere mention of his name brings shivers to many, particularly government servants.
His latest attack is his report on the so-called 'the rape of Cameron Highland's rivers'.
For the past few days (both in the morning and prime time news), he was on air on TV3 highlighting the blatant discharge of human wastes direct into Cameron Highland rivers.
His clever use of food colouring (poured into toilets) proved beyond doubt that the malpractice of directing human wastes direct into river system is happening, right under our eyes.
It was nauseating, to say the least, seeing human faeces floating and rolling from toilets through pipes into rivers.
If only rivers could talk...for sure they would say " Look at human, they don't even know how to manage their own wastes!"
More nauseating was that all these happened up stream the water processing plants!
He also brought to light the fate of hills being wantonly bulldozed making way for modern commercial vegetable farming.
It was just sheer madness how far a few people, in their chase for money, would go to see that their goal was reached.
I don't know whether I agree fully with what he has been doing. May be he should be more diplomatic in his use of modus operandi. But again, may be he has exhausted all the possible avenues and he has again and again found out that his method is the best, in as far as getting the attention and action of the relevant authorities.
By the way, I was made to understand that he was once a member of my department - DVS.
His latest attack is his report on the so-called 'the rape of Cameron Highland's rivers'.
For the past few days (both in the morning and prime time news), he was on air on TV3 highlighting the blatant discharge of human wastes direct into Cameron Highland rivers.
His clever use of food colouring (poured into toilets) proved beyond doubt that the malpractice of directing human wastes direct into river system is happening, right under our eyes.
It was nauseating, to say the least, seeing human faeces floating and rolling from toilets through pipes into rivers.
If only rivers could talk...for sure they would say " Look at human, they don't even know how to manage their own wastes!"
More nauseating was that all these happened up stream the water processing plants!
He also brought to light the fate of hills being wantonly bulldozed making way for modern commercial vegetable farming.
It was just sheer madness how far a few people, in their chase for money, would go to see that their goal was reached.
I don't know whether I agree fully with what he has been doing. May be he should be more diplomatic in his use of modus operandi. But again, may be he has exhausted all the possible avenues and he has again and again found out that his method is the best, in as far as getting the attention and action of the relevant authorities.
By the way, I was made to understand that he was once a member of my department - DVS.
Ripin called
Out of the blues and totally unexpected he called. His voice was still the same. His thick Besut accent was still there.
"Have you got a Besan already?"
"No, not yet...my eldest, she just graduated a few days back..."
That was Ripin bin Salleh, my long lost friend from the SDAR days.
He was my best pal then. Still vivid in my mind how he helped me a lot when I had to struggle going to the train station on our way home after I discharged myself from a long hospitaliztion.
I broke my left leg while trying to get over a 5-foot high jump bar. For that I had to miss almost three terms of my form four and spend most of my time in Tanjong Malim Hospital.
Reaching Kg Lampu, his hometown, I was treated like a prince by his family. I was bathed in floral water (mandi bunga) almost everyday by his mother. It was really invigorating, especially after having to lie down on the hospital bed for such a long time.
Ripin, once a temporary teacher and now a land-broker, was a genius in Geography. He knew almost every city in the world then, even Ulan Batur the capital of Mongolia!
His rather extensive forehead was just like that of the 'Hack' sweets. For that resemblance he was called Ripin Yek (Hack in a babyish tone).
There was this one episode that I could never forget. It occurred on our arts trip to Templer's Park. The two of us decided to scale the waterfall direct, that was from the front.
I was in front of him most of the way. Suddenly I heard him calling Allah, Allah. I froze and looked back. There he was sliding down on the slippy surface.
Looking down I saw jagged rocks and old logs waiting to receive him. Suddenly, as if answering his call, he grabbed a tiny tree growing out of a crevice in the moss-covered rock.
The tree stopped his fall. He slowly stood up and said his prayers. He was almost bloodless. We then went down and kept quiet about the incident.
I wrote a story about it and got an A for my LCE English paper!
Welcome back Ripin...hope our friendship remains forever.
Well, he just called me this morning.
"Have you got a Besan already?"
"No, not yet...my eldest, she just graduated a few days back..."
That was Ripin bin Salleh, my long lost friend from the SDAR days.
He was my best pal then. Still vivid in my mind how he helped me a lot when I had to struggle going to the train station on our way home after I discharged myself from a long hospitaliztion.
I broke my left leg while trying to get over a 5-foot high jump bar. For that I had to miss almost three terms of my form four and spend most of my time in Tanjong Malim Hospital.
Reaching Kg Lampu, his hometown, I was treated like a prince by his family. I was bathed in floral water (mandi bunga) almost everyday by his mother. It was really invigorating, especially after having to lie down on the hospital bed for such a long time.
Ripin, once a temporary teacher and now a land-broker, was a genius in Geography. He knew almost every city in the world then, even Ulan Batur the capital of Mongolia!
His rather extensive forehead was just like that of the 'Hack' sweets. For that resemblance he was called Ripin Yek (Hack in a babyish tone).
There was this one episode that I could never forget. It occurred on our arts trip to Templer's Park. The two of us decided to scale the waterfall direct, that was from the front.
I was in front of him most of the way. Suddenly I heard him calling Allah, Allah. I froze and looked back. There he was sliding down on the slippy surface.
Looking down I saw jagged rocks and old logs waiting to receive him. Suddenly, as if answering his call, he grabbed a tiny tree growing out of a crevice in the moss-covered rock.
The tree stopped his fall. He slowly stood up and said his prayers. He was almost bloodless. We then went down and kept quiet about the incident.
I wrote a story about it and got an A for my LCE English paper!
Welcome back Ripin...hope our friendship remains forever.
Well, he just called me this morning.
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