Tiger Stripes (2023) Written and Directed by Amanda Nell Eu
This movie reminds me of P Ramlee's not-so-famous film, 'Sitora Harimau Jadian'. Sitora was 1964 Malaya's answer to the European folklore of werewolves. Instead of werewolves, he created a story about a were-tiger. Made in black and white with a limited budget for the make-up department, it failed both in awe and in its gore aspects.
'Tiger Stripes', on the other hand, is not much of a scary movie. It is more of a social commentary. It highlights bullying in schools, the confusing hormones-laden pubertal era, the uninspiring methods of teaching, and maybe many more.
International viewers will wonder why girls in that all-girls school suddenly go haywire, shrieking and falling down simultaneously with jerky hand and body movements like a person possessed. Yes, the film also showcases the problem of mass hysteria, a peculiar phenomenon that is seen in many all-female Malaysian schools and hostels.
Another glaring thing shown here is the dismal standard of English taught in Malaysian schools. Imagine 13-year-olds still struggling with grammar and tenses. That is not fiction, but very much a common site in many schools in the interior parts of the country and also in the poorer section of towns. My sister, who used to mark public examination papers, would be testimony to this. She could not believe what was written (or not written) on exam papers.
My beloved secondary school headmaster used to advocate that 'academic excellence is no substitute to poverty of character'. It may be true when academic achievements are par excellence. One can explore other avenues to mould a holistic student who can withstand the challenges of adult life. Here, what I see is another wrapped hollow package. The country values the presentation, not its content, quantity not quality, and racial aspirations, not national development.
Mass hysteria is a poorly understood collective psychogenic illness. It is not even listed in the DSM, the manual of all psychiatric and psychological ailments. South East Asia is labelled as the world capital for this illness. Many medical experts failed to identify a single cause for this condition. Stress has been suggested as the prominent cause. Most of the time, faith healers are called in, as is seen in this movie, with comical outcomes. In 2015, a local university in the state of Pahang came out with an anti-hysteria kit that was sold at a whopping RM 8,750. This kit, created after years of research, could allegedly ward off evil spirits. For that sum, the kit came with just chopsticks, salt, lime, vinegar, pepper spray and formic acid.
(P.S. Syukur (thank God), our schools have no random shootings!)
It is not just confined to one religion; it so happens that Islam is the reference in this film. Leaders of any religion, way of life, or cult take it upon themselves to be the de facto spokesperson on how the religion should be practised. They want to have the final say as if they had an audience with the Almighty, who whispered the secrets of life in their ears.
To the young and restless, they give the impression that their lifelong purpose in life is to screw up everybody's happiness. Just to show who is the boss.
Take this example. Occasionally, at the temple I sometimes frequent, there will be public service announcements of some good news or achievements. Naturally, the congregation would display their pleasure and admiration by clapping. That was the most natural thing for us humans to do. "But no!" said one elder, who raised his hands angrily to stop them from clapping. Strangely, a few minutes later, everyone was seen ecstatic, clapping and chanting to chants of 'Hare Rama Hare Krishna'. Nobody seems to know that there is such a rule and the rationale for having one when I ask around. After all, how does clapping in felicitations differ from the one during the recital of hymns? Finally, a very senior attendee just said that it was traditional. Period.
The lesson from this example is that people put rules and regulations in place because they can and want to. It is all about control and showing who is the boss.
This film got many of the religious people hot under the garbs. This comedy questions our blind faith and how leaders use it for selfish needs.
Kampong Bras Basah is a closely knitted village overseen by the conservative local holy man. He determines what is preached in the Friday prayers and micromanages peoples' affairs. Troubles come knocking when a plucky young lady starts her lingerie business in the village. Even though initially the villagers looked at the shop with scorn, they eventually flocked to the shop when one of the couples in the village showed remarkable improvement in their intimate relationships. The holy man digs up his sleeves to shut down the business. The storyline includes hints of spousal abuse, women empowerment, and the need to stand your ground and not blindly follow rules. 4/5.
At a time when tranquillity is a distant memory and race politics is rearing its ugly head, it is only appropriate that we re-evaluate our stand on what it is to be a Malaysian. Does it encompass only the majority of people of a particular ethnicity who dominate most fields, as determined by the country's social engineering policies? Does it refer to the earliest occupants of the country? Does being a Malaysian mean being a Muslim only? What happened to all the people who sacrificed their hearts and minds for the nation all this while? Their “blood, toil, tears and sweat” mean nothing?
To the pea-brained who insists that Malaysia is only for Malay-Muslims and the rest are most temporary occupants of the land who should be thankful for their temporary occupation, read this.
The Dass legacy: Soldering on
By Adrian David
June 14, 2021, New Straits Times.
Flying Officer (Rtd) David Samuel Dass in his Royal Air Force uniform during War War I. - Pic courtesy of Brig-Gen Dr Alexander Amaradran Dass
KUALA LUMPUR: "No one is a man, until he has been a soldier."
This is one adage the Dass family firmly believes in - for four of them have collectively clocked an impressive 110 years of service for the nation.
Their foray with the armed forces began with their patriarch - Flying Officer (Rtd) David Samuel Dass who had served with Britain's Royal Air Force (RAF) during World War I .
Then, David's son Warrant Officer II (Rtd) William David Dass continued the family's tradition with the Malaysian Army.
In later years, William's sons Maritime First-Admiral (Rtd) Christopher Ravindran Dass and Brigadier-General Dr Alexander Amaradran Dass donned the uniform.
Dr Alexander, who is due to retire on May 4 next year upon reaching 60, was promoted to a 'one-star' general recently and is serving as the maxillofacial surgeon and department head at the 94th Armed Forces Hospital at Terendak Camp in Malacca.
Warrant Officer II (Rtd) William David Dass flanked by his sons Capt Christopher Ravindran Dass (right) and Colonel Dr Alexander Amaradran Dass after laying a wreath on Warrior’s Day at the cenotaph in Penang in 2011. - Pic courtesy of Brig-Gen Dr Alexander Amaradran Dass
He is just among a handful of medical specialists in the discipline with the Armed Forces.
Dr Alexander told The New Straits Times that it was the wishes of his grandfather David to have at least one 'son' in each generation of their family, to serve with the armed forces.
"There was no force and we took it upon ourselves to put our foot forward, when the nation really needed able-bodied youths during the difficult and trying years," said Dr Alexander, who hopes his nephews or grandchildren would continue with the tradition.
Recalling David's service, Dr Alexander said his grandfather had served with the RAF's 63rd Squadron as an officer from 1916 to 1920.
"He saw action in the Mediterranean and against the Turkish Army in Mesopotamia (Iraq).
"His foray earned him the British WW I 'Victory Medal' and a 'British War Medal'.
"David opted out of service after his stint with the RAF and went into business, before moving to Malaya in 1930," said Dr Alexander, who is married to Khasturi Bhai Muniswaran, a former CIMB banking executive.
William had joined the Police Volunteer Reserve as a 16-year-old.
In 1954, he became a Junior Civil Liaison Officer (JCLO) and was posted with the First battalion Royal Malay Regiment based at the Lintang Camp in Sungai Siput, Perak.
"He was tasked with gathering information on the movement of the Communist Party of Malaya's (CPM) movement in the area.
"Dad often related to me his encounters with the CPM terrorists deep in the jungles of Malaya.
"Among his tales were how he had to sleep with the bodies of his dead comrades, until they were safely retrieved to be given a burial with honours," said Dr Alexander.
In 1955, William was among those from the Royal Armour Regiment who were deployed during the 'Baling Talks' in Kedah, between the Malayan government and CPM leader Chin Peng.
During the First Emergency period of 1948-1960, William was tasked with tracking down and monitoring the movements of another CPM leader, C.T. Perumal.
In 1962, William was chosen to serve under the United Nations peace-keeping mission in Bukavu, Congo.
In 1970, William also served as the chief staff assistant to the Malaysian defence adviser at the high commission in London, Britain.
He retired as a Warrant Officer II, after 29 years of service in 1980.
Dr Alexander said his elder brother Christopher had initially joined the Royal Malaysian Navy in 1980 and rose to become a commander.
Warrant Officer II (Rtd) William David Dass (second from left) with his fellow comrades and British expatriate children in Congo in 1962. - Pic courtesy of Brig-Gen Dr Alexander Amaradran Dass
"In 2005, he was among the pioneer batch of officers and men in the newly established Malaysian Maritime Enforcement Agency (MMEA), starting off as a captain.
"He went on to serve as commandant of the MMEA Academy in Kuantan, Pahang before retiring in 2019 after almost 40 years of service," said Dr Alexander, who had completed Form Five at the Penang Free School in 1979.
A few years later, he earned a Public Service Department scholarship to pursue a bachelor of dental surgery degree at the University of Punjab in Lahore, Pakistan.
He was cited on the Dean's list and was the first Malaysian to win a gold medal there, for his excellent results upon graduation in 1991.
Upon his return, Dr Alexander was seconded to the Ministry of Health and served at the Queen Elizabeth Hospital in Kota Kinabalu, Sabah for about two years.
"In 1993, I chanced upon the opportunity to serve with the Armed Forces Royal Medical Corps as a dental officer.
"I accepted a commission as a captain and was duly posted to the 2nd Battalion Royal Ranger Regiment at the Tambun Camp in Ipoh, Perak," he said.
Five years later, he attended a staff officer's course in Port Dickson, Negri Sembilan and won the commandant's prize for his thesis on total quality management.
"In 2000, I was offered to purse a four-year post-graduate degree in oral maxillofacial surgery at University Malaya, Kuala Lumpur.
"In late 2005, I was the facial trauma surgeon with the Armed Forces team despatched on a humanitarian mission to the earthquake mission in Battagram, Pakistan," he said.
In 2009, he was the Malaysian Medical Commander (MMU-7) with the United Nations Mission for the Referendum in Western Sahara (Minurso), tasked with assisting and treating military observers and land mine victims.
"Part of my job entailed me to undergo an airborne course to complete the compulsory eight static-fall parachute jumps off an aeroplane.
"With Terendak Camp as the home of the Army's 10th Para Brigade, my 14 years there helped me to better understand the stress and strain of the soldiers," said Dr Alexander, who earned the unique maroon beret worn by elite commandos who are a key element of the Armed Forces' Rapid Deployment Force.
Brigadier-General Dr Alexander Amaradran Dass with his wife Khasturi Bhai Muniswaran. - Pic courtesy of Brig-Gen Dr Alexander Amaradran Dass
He added that to earn the maroon beret, he had to undergo a myriad of strenuous exercises and trainings for about two solid months.
"These included the 'Pegasus' survival exercises which were tough ordeals both in the jungles and at sea.
"My first airborne jump over 2,000 feet in 2007 was truly an exhilarating experience, as I managed to avoid hitting the ground like a sack of potatoes," he said.
Dr Alexander was also exposed to joint military exercises with Indonesia, Australia and the United States' armed forces, apart from the regular combat exercises with the 10th Para Brigade.
"Having the opportunity to train with foreign armies was always a unique experience as it allowed me to share and exchange knowledge with them.
"It also certainly strengthened our camaraderie," said Dr Alexander, who has special interests in dental implantology, laser and facial trauma.
Owing to his vast experience, Dr Alexander was roped in to initiate diploma courses for dental staff assistants at the Armed Forces Medical Institute in Malacca, as well as ensuring that the 94th Terendak Hospital was of an international-class medical facility to adequately for soldiers.
He paid tribute to the gallant officers and men of the Armed Forces who toiled to safeguard the sovereignty of the nation.
To improve his communication and leadership skills, Dr Alexander is actively involved in Toastmasters International.
"I owe an incredible debt of gratitude to the Armed Forces leadership for their confidence and trust in me to fulfil my responsibilities as a doctor and an officer.
"I am privileged and fortunate enough to be given an opportunity to further my studies and career. I have no regrets donning the uniform as it had provided abundant opportunities and possibilities to advance myself. I realise that this country of ours is a land of prosperity and generosity, of strength and unity, of opportunity and work," he said.
Crossroads: One Two Jaga (2018) Direction: Nam Ron
It is easy to form an opinion on people just based on a cursory look at them. The problem with this is that our judgement is clouded by our prejudice and our ignorance. We are all guilty of hating people that we have not seen what more interacted. Walk a mile in their shoes, and we will realise the things they do. We may even understand that the 'other' whom we hate so much are no different from us.
This excellent Malaysian movie illustrates just that. It tries to point out that people do the things they do because of circumstances, which may appear wrong from the eye of the human-made law or divine decree. For them, it is a matter of survival or to do what is best for the betterment of loved ones.
It tells the story of a veteran police officer, Hussein, with an idealistic newbie officer, Hassan, as they go on their rounds. Hassan thinks that law must be enforced as it is their job. Hussein, however, thinks their job is futile, as it is the big fishes at the top of the food chain are the real culprits who allow lawlessness. During the course of his work, Hassan realises the monetary difficulties that he faces as a lowly paid policeman as a father and his justification of making some money on the sly.
On the other end, there is an Indonesian migrant labourer, Sugiman, with a young son, and his sister, Sumiati, who is a runaway domestic helper. As Sugiman tries hard to send her sister back home and keep her in hiding, things get complicated. Sumiati is arrested by Hassan and Hussein whilst Sugiman's employer's son, a hot-headed fellow, comes to the scene and things get pretty ugly.
What most of us really want is to provide a better life for our downlines. We want them all to enjoy a better standard of living. We do not want them to be deprived of the same things that we yearned to have but never got. Just as much as Hussein is concerned that his son is frequently getting into fights, Sugiman is worried that his son is not in school but is mixing with the wrong company.
Once a while you get a good Malaysian movie without the usual ridiculing of races or filled with simpleton slap slick comedy. This is it. There are no attempts by the moviemakers to ensure that the characters are overtly different. They are who they are, Malaysians, and they act their roles. They switch between Malay, English and Cantonese seamlessly, with no demarcation of us and them.
Every scene springs familiarity as the background has been seen in real life many times before. The settings are authentic, like the back lanes and the interior of a typical working-class Chinese family.
The film centres around a band of brothers in a small family business of extortion and trickery. They use their city taxis and the airport terminal as their fronts for their nefarious activities. Their quiet business becomes a mess as their firebrand youngest brash family member spring wings and wants to explore greener pastures. A scorned mistress who is hellbent on seeking revenge from her jilting wealthy married boyfriend, everything goes wrong. Hot on their trail are the police and the leader of a triad whom the young member had royally pissed.
Trying to make everything as authentic as possible, I fail to see why they decided not to leave the 'TEKSI' labels on the cabs but rebrand it as 'TAXI'.
Mafia Boss Michael Corleone makes his confession to a
Cardinal in “The Godfather-Part III”
Credit: mozarellamamma.com
The world tries to divide all our actions into either good or bad. Professions associated with elements of gambling, intoxication and sex unsanctioned by the institute of marriage are frowned upon. Wealth acquired through these means is considered unholy. In reality, wealth is wealth. It does not matter where it came from. At the end of the day, one is either poor or rich. When he is rich, everything he does is right. He can even 'sanitise' his 'unholy' income.
Take the example of information technology. The leaps and bounds of progress that it has made is not merely via kosher means. Porn and porn-related industries form the backbone of the research and advancements that it has made. Nobody scorns the headways the digital world has executed but tribute it to the intelligence of computer scientists. The spread of successful small businesses and multitudes of trades based on algorithms helps to erase the internet of its somewhat tainted pass.
As a passing, one should not forget that the seemingly religious Sicilian mafias continue their treacherous activities planned right under the patronage of the Roman Catholic Churches. Their relationship can be described as twisted. The Mafia bosses baptise their children, attend Mass, wear crosses, pray to Madonna but their faith gets intertwined with acts of violence.
Echoes of Silence (1994) Author: Chuah Guat Eng It is long overdue, but it is never late than never. For many years, Malaysians have been writing novels in the English Language. Sadly, their following is few and far between. Through my association with a group of up and coming writers and with the power of social media, it has come to light on the treasure troves of writings of Malaysian writers in the lingua franca left by our colonial masters. I am not just referring to authors to the likes of Tan Twan Eng, Rani Manicka and K.S. Maniam. Do you know that periodically Malaysians do hit the headlines for the right reasons, literary awards being one? Guat Eng is hailed in the local literary circle as a 'Godmother' of sorts. She has been an active participant in the writing scene and was in the advertising field. In this story, which is set around the early years of Malaya, though the World War Two, we are ushered into a fictional world of how Malaya used to be and a peculiar case of intergenerational murders!
The author talks about many things in this book; politics, race, nation building, interracial tensions, commercialisation and so forth. What interests me, however, is the part where she asks 'what is love'? Does it have to be expressed by physical contact and overt demonstration of passion? Is public display of affection a mere construct of the modern era or a Western influence? Many choose to show love not through words but by their actions. One can say so much by saying nothing at all whilst others best stay mum as they do more damage when they open their mouths! http://www.viweb.mysite.com/vilit_guat-eng.htm
A plethora of emotion flowed through as I perused through this book. The memories of yesteryears, of the dilemma in wanting to retain the Indian identity as well as knowing that Indianness was taking me nowhere. The perplexity of needing to get out the rut of being born in the lower class of society as well as not wanting to be one to forget his past. The predicament of not wanting to speak the Tamil language so as not to attract the wrong crowd but to converse in English, which in my mind, was the language of knowledge. Enduring the insults of being 'white-assed' for pretending not to understand the language whilst living in a place equivalent to a ghetto. Of being embarrassed by the fiasco of the Indians in the neighbourhood as if I was the bearer of everything Indian.
This story also reminds me of all the people in my life who work hard as if it was the last thing they need to do but lack the foresight to prepare for their future and that of their family. There were also people who went to great lengths to outdo their neighbours in meaningless festivities just to satisfy their own egos.
It also reminds me of a time when I was admonished for not contributing enough to the family well-being as the economic situation demanded. I was accused of finding the easy way out by immersing myself in my books as if I was the only kid in the world who went to school.
It was déjà vu once again, those loud days when neighbours raised their voices in acts of family feuds and loud decibels of music from gramophone players. Just because they have a rough day at work or is Deepavali eve, the neighbours made it the social duty to entertain the whole neighbourhood with their brand of cinema songs.
Then there were those who do things knowing very well it is wrong just because they can. Some people never registered their marriages leaving their spouses in a quandary as they kicked the bucket, quite prematurely in those days, when health awareness was not a priority but living the moment was. Even births were not registered, making school registration a Herculean task. What more to excel in school.
K. S. Maniam
I thought with the passage of time, these scenarios would be events of a bygone era. Unfortunately, half a century after witnessing all of the above, these events are still very much alive.
The book narrates how two generations of Indian migrants failed to lay claim to a place in the country they decided to call home by their ignorance or probably failure to conform. The Indian community in this story seems to be at loggerheads with everybody, the authority, with people in power, Indians of higher stature (and vice versa, with people of lower strata), with relatives, with teachers and within the family.
It is a sad tale of all Indians in Malaysia. From the time this country started to evolve into a nation-state, they have been putting in their hard and soul into its soil. The sweat, blood and soul that they contributed to the country's development somehow seem to have been buried in the shadows of the tropical clouds.
Talking about shadows, no matter how far we try to run away from our shadows, they return to haunt. Bonds of blood and DNA are not easily broken. They come recoiling back. The emotional chains are simply too strong. Even if the eyes do not want to see, the skin, nevertheless, quivers.
History is written by victors said Walter Benjamin. History is a set of lies that people have agreed upon according to Napoleon Bonaparte. History will be kind to me as I intend to write it, asserted Winston Churchill. These statements just show us how the real narration, the truth can and will be manipulated by the people in power to set forth their personal agendas.
Of late, in Malaysia, there is a concerted effort to erase the contributions of particular communities in the development of the country. History is altered and churned out as they like as if it is a fictional writing to bring out a happy ending that suits the flavour of the month. Like the Ministry of Truth in Orwell's 1984, they churn out lies after lies to suit their game plan. They know well that one who controls the past controls the future and he who controls the present controls the past.
Talk to any Malaysian family. They all have a tale to tell about the predicaments that their forefathers had to endure to protect their piece of space which they called home. They have stories of pain, tears, sweat, blood, heartaches, deaths and disappointments as they toiled the sun to see their produce. Learn how they forwent happiness and comfort to chase invaders from the land they looked up as home, not purely as the piece of land where they would squander its wealth to syphon off to lands far away. Stories like 'Rice Mother' are far too many but remain closed in the eternal vault of their family bygones and hidden in memory banks as kindred treasures.
The novel narrates the tale of a young girl who was plucked from the tranquil land of Ceylon to be married off to a wealthy man from Malaya in the 1930s. Only after reaching Malaya did she realise that the whole arrangement was a facade. There was no rich husband and life was far from perfect. Being a subservient wife, in keeping with the times, she carried on. Life was never a bed of roses. The unhappy marriage did produce a succession of heirs. The seeming quiet country went through some tumultuous times, fighting foreign invaders and surviving the world war.
The book goes on to tell the life and times of Lakshmi, the protagonist, who later metamorphosed into a fierce matriarch; the husband and his meek ways of handling adversities; their children and their escapades and idiosyncrasies all though to Lakshmi's grandchildren as the country, Malaysia, transforms to meet the challenges of the new world.
N.B. Rice Mother refers to the scarecrow who stands steadfast unflinching against the elements of Nature to safeguard the dependent she is assigned to care. In the same vein, the matriarchal figure in the story stands firm to be a pillar to the family to ensure that everyone in the family, the father and the children, come ashore the journey of life safe and sound. The Rice Mother, slowly but surely, in the background, looks like hawk, stinges like an ant and brings the gifts like Santa Claus when the time is ripe or it demands!
From the outset, you know why this documentary film was banned in Malaysia. The background musical score, songs at the opening and closing credits were all variants of 'Terang Bulan' or 'Mamula Moon'. As it is commonly known, it is the precursor to our National Anthem. Legend has it that Sultan Abdullah, after being exiled in Seychelles Island in 1877 for assassinating JWW Birch, first came in contact with this tune was played by a French band there. After completing his sentence, upon his return to the State of Perak, he penned the State Anthem with that melody. When his successor made a trip to England in 1888 to attend Queen Victoria's inauguration, this song (Allah lanjutkan Usia Sultan, it was named), was played at his arrival in Southampton port for the first time and became the de facto anthem of the Malay states. In the 1920s, the tune became a popular hit with a Hawaiian twist, played by many musicians in the Malay Archipelago.
The question of whether the members of the Communists insurgency all through the 1930s, the Japanese occupation, subsequent British recolonisation and Independence were the work of freedom fighters to liberate the country from the yoke of Western tyranny or they were work of terrorists who found joy in creating mayhem to spread their twisted ideology for self-interest is a million dollar question. Well, the purpose of this documentary is not to answer that. The documentary maker, instead, tries to find out why some men go to the extent of sacrificing their lives, their family lives and to live as fugitives exposed to the elements of Nature just for the country. Is that patriotism or social maladaptation? Was it worth it?
The filmmaker goes on a journey of discovery of sorts. Initially trying to mend his relationship with his aloof father, he discovers the story of his grandfather, a communist who was never a father to the storyteller's father. He goes on to trace his relatives in Sitiawan, the deceased grandfather's fellow comrades in Hong Kong and all the way to Southern Thailand.
Jagat (Trilingual Malaysian; 2015) History has taught us again and again that the fate of a tribe/community/race is so dependent on the foresightedness of its leaders. Many civilisations soared to great heights or conversely disappeared into obscurity due to lack of direction, all because of the presence of a capable or weak leader respectively. A leader is the one who foresees any untoward incidents that may come the way of his flock so as that he can pave a safe path. His mission is to serve his kind to ensure their continuity as a formidable group. For this task, the leader is accorded certain privileges which the society can withdraw at any juncture they feel apt. When the followers continue to follow blindly to the tricks of the sycophantic leaders and play doormat to their demands without batting an eyelid but wallowing their misfortune in fate, they truly deserve the leaders they get. Instead of the politicians working towards the well-being of the plebeians, looks like the people are hoodwinked to ensure the reign of the leaders stays uninterrupted! Whose fault is it, anyway? The first thing I noticed when I caught this film aboard an Air Asia flight was the extremely picturesque shots of the landscapes around Malaysia. It was sometimes difficult to believe that those scenes were literally taken off our own backyards. The scene at the jetty, at a factory and even the open spaces, gave a luring view of the Malaysian outdoors. The theme of the film is the story of any failed Malaysian Indian citizen who lost out in the rat race of development. The Indian diaspora which scaled the shores of most countries has done well. Indians in Fiji, South Africa, Mauritius, Surinam, Uganda, you name it, they control the economy. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said of the descendants of Indian migrant workers who were brought to the Malayan shores to toil the land. Sure, many have succeeded and have left their mark. The unsuccessful ones remain rudderless and bury their sorrows in the tombstones of their ancestors and the proof of their forefathers' sacrifice to the nation. Aboy is a 12-year old boy who is at a crossroad. On the one hand, there is his hardworking father who works for a pittance to ensure his son gets a decent education. He does not want his son to repeat his same mistake, to immerse himself in drama and literary stuff that does nothing to pay the bills. He disciplines his son in the only way he knows to put him on the right track. Then there is Aboy's uncle, his father's brother who seems to be well to do without working too much, by indulging in gangsterism. Aboy's schooling system and teachers have no time to spur his hidden talent. Their emphasis is rote learning. With the adverse environment in school and the village he lives in, it is inevitable that Aboy is drawn to the dark side of society. Ironically, at the end of the movie, the uncle decides to leave the decadent life, but Aboy is initiated into it! History just repeats itself. It is one of the few Malaysian Tamil movies that drew a sizeable multi-ethnic crowd to the cinemas and made quite an impact at the local film awards. It was even screened at the international level.
Letters to Home (2016) Young Malaysians write back Edited by Ooi Kok Hin, Aish Kumar, Nik Mohamed Rashid Nik Zurin Just when you had heard enough of whining, ranting, hurling of brickbats at the pathetic state of affairs that the country and possible failed nation status that we may plunge, out comes a book which tries to paint a blue sky, a new dawn and words of hopefulness. At an instance, when most disillusioned Malaysians are leaving our shores to graze upon lush greens elsewhere and when overseas-trained graduates find their comfort zone their Newfoundland, this book gives a glimmer of hope. It tells us that life in this country in the future may not be all doom and gloom.
This 234-paged book is a collection of over 30 authors who contributed to this uplifting experience. The writers are mainly millennials who were privileged enough to spend some time overseas in their pursuit of academic excellence, some through state scholarships. Many of them are envious of the ongoing progress abroad and yearn to bring home their skills. They long to have their motherland the same scientific and technological innovations that they had seen there.
The topics covered here are quite varied, ranging from affirmative action and Malay supremacy all the way to environmental degradation. Many government-sponsored students do not return home to pay back their dues to the nation, but the powers that be are quite lackadaisical in doing their job to gain returns from their investment of human capital. Malaysians who experience life as a foreigner in another country generally can empathise with the plight of the many low-skilled foreign workers found here!
In any country, the younger generation is typically vocal about current social issues. History had shown that the youth were the first displeasure when so many young Americans returned in body bags from Vietnam and when injustice prevailed in many despotic regimes in many newly independent post-colonial Africa and Eastern European block countries. Here, however, the wings of the university students are mostly clipped with the University and its amendments!
They go on to talk about Malaysia's brain drain problem of 10% which exceeds the global average. One author who hails from East Malaysia narrates her awkward moments of being treated as a green-eyed monster in the Peninsular as a student! The rise of religious bigots who treat women as second class citizens gets an honourable mention. The topic of living as a handicapped, growing as an orphan and the lack of social safety nets and the acceptance of intermarriage with its complex issues are discussed.
The best part of the book, I feel, is the lengthy discussion on the evolution of university life. From a firebrand force in the 60's which gave the government a run for its money, university students have all evolved to become meek apathetic domesticated pussies.
There is definitely lots of work to be done to bring the back the nation to its once promising start!
Met Rozlan at a book reading event and was convinced by him to give a go at his brand of Malaysian crime pulp fiction. After leaving the police force, one of his lifetime ambitions was to write ten books. Apparently, he has almost filled up with bucket list; two more to go!
He mirrors his protagonist after Horatio of CSI Miami, the mysterious cop with many hidden things in his closet. He juggles life as a single parent of a preteen and his demanding job of busting crimes in the city of Kuala Lumpur.
A car crashes onto a divider in the DUKE highway. Initial investigations soon reveal the victims to be business colleagues and lovers. What is initially reported as a suicide-murder becomes murky as the investigating officer, Inspector Mislan Latif, finds more and more loose ends that do not fit. The case becomes hotter as many people from the top, his superiors and politicians, hellbent on putting a closure to the case.
Working tirelessly over the long Hari Raya break, Mislan with his Sergeant and the skeletal police and forensic staff swiftly puts a closure to the deaths in their fast moving tale. If only in real life, the Royal Malaysian Police would rise to the occasion and serve justice with so much dedication and impartiality unswayed by external influences.
Rozlan has been going around the countryside having discussion sessions with students of higher institutions as well as promoting his book. One of the comical comment that he received from the audience is from a teaching staff. The member had admonished him for creating a character who is not the exemplary depiction of how a true Malay-Muslim should behave! In the story, Inspector Mislan is a chain-smoking police officer, a single parent and has an extramarital affair with a single Malay pathologist who has no qualms with their bed-sharing 'friends with benefits' type of friendship! The characters in his novel are no angels, either. For Christ sake, it is a crime drama. Crime brings out the worse and the best of human emotions and ethics.
A light leisurely read of a story hovering around the familiar landscapes of Kuala Lumpur.
There must be something wrong with our top down approach in teaching History to our young ones. And what do you expect from the politicians who always keep changing the origin and the course of history as they fancy to befit their bedevilled agenda?
The real history of a civilisation and a nation should be rightly learnt from a ground-up manner. The real story lies hidden amongst the many untold narrations of the little people, the fabric who make the nation, not the generals and warlords who look at events of the day through their rose tinted glasses who would want themselves to be portrayed in Annals of times as heroes.
Many such stories of the ordinary people remain untold in this country. Their viewpoints had never been seen as sexy or newsworthy. After all, they are just economic migrants in pursuit of survival from a land already in ruins. What do they know? They are sometimes viewed by the earlier dwellers as just snatchers of the country's wealth to send it back to their land of origin. They never had it good in any way. If the push factor from their Motherland was not bad enough, the situation in Malaya was no bed of roses either. If there they suffered from deprivations and diseases arising thereof, here they had to battle with the excesses, the torrential monsoon rain, the scorching heat and its illnesses as well - malaria and filariasis. And the war that rocked the whole world. If that was not enough, the scourge of the communist and political interplay of the superpowers were to follow.
Prof VGK Dass, putting aside his academic hat to indulge in a biography-novel writing, did his part by paying homage to this deceased mother. He relives his mother 's escapades through the turbulent years of old pre-WW2 Malaya all through to her demise. He inked her struggles of bringing up her seven children as a young widow in a foreign country with her strong determination as her weapon, her trust in God as her shield and her never-say-die attitude as her ammunition to bring her family to steady ground. Along the way, she contributed her share to nation building. The biography tells her interactions with her new comrades of various ethnicities and her adjustments to the new country.
The book also narrates of this matriarchal's travels, her friends, her relatives and her joy with her kids and grandchildren.
"Gowri' is a tribute by the eldest son to his mother who was widowed at 42 and he lost his father at 17, who co-parented his six other siblings.
