A close shave!

No, this is not a blog of a near-death experience, seeing the white light and bearded old man at the end of the tunnel or about how evaded a catastrophic situation. It is about my experiences with the barber, particularly Indian barbers.
From time in memory, Malaysian Indian barbers have been hairstyling our mane even before Merdeka. They have been a part and parcel of Malaysian culture. Even Lat, the famous Malaysian cartoonist, has depicted them in many of his comic strips, mostly in a comical way (duh!). They initially started as mobile vendors, with their tools of the trade nicely tucked in a debilitated probably second hand or hand-me-downs leather suitcase and everywhere they lay their hat was their workplace. Now, they offer the luxury of air-conditioned shops and clean utensils (at least they use disposable blades). They are however, less innovative compared to the ultra new modern unisex saloons in terms of styling, perming, dyeing and washing. Just like in  Lat's illustration, you can show the Indian barber pictures of latest hairstyle that you want him to cut, he will eventually cut only in the standard way that he knows.
Just like how the medical profession had chosen the emblem of two snakes intertwined around a twig / dagger as their common logo, barbers around the world are unison in displaying a 'revolving blue and red ribbon stripe' on a barber's pole (a glass cylinder that contained a revolving white cylinder with a red stripe and a blue stripe painted in a spiral around it, so that, as it revolved, the red, white, and blue “ribbons” appeared to be steadily moving) at their entrance to signify their profession. As we know, surgeons had their roots in barbers. The early physicians shoved the surgical and messy component of treatment who at time were performing surgical feats. Probably, they did not call in the mutton butchers as they appeared too gruesome! That is why, in some countries, surgeons are referred to as Mr. So-and-So rather than Dr So-and-So. The medical emblem is said to resemble the carvings on the staff (baton) of Asclepius, the Greek God of Medicine, but it features only one snake.  There is yet another theory on the evolution of this emblem. In medieval times, cutaneous larva migrans (a skin parasite, Ancylostoma braziliense / Strongyloides stercoralis,  which burrowed into people's skin to cause morbidly intense itching) seem to have been a big problem. Physicians then may have paralyzed the nematodes with turpentine and used twigs to skew out the dead parasites. And this scenario was immortalized by the medical fraternity!
Barber poles are said to have originated from the medieval medical practice of bloodletting. Barbers performed surgery and tooth extractions in those times, as well. The pole had a brass basin at the top (which represented the container for blood-letting leeches) and another at the bottom for receiving the blood. The pole represented the staff a patient grasped to hasten the blood flow.

Barber pole

The stripes grew out of the bandages used in France during medical procedures. Hung outside the theater of operations to dry, bandages would blow in the wind and wrap themselves around the pole in a spiral pattern. A painted wooden pole of red and white stripes replaced this as an emblem of the barber/surgeon’s profession, then the mesmerizing mobile ones: “On countless noons Will had stood here trying to unravel that ribbon, watch it come, go, end without ending.”
Ref:http://www.bookdrum.com/books/something-wicked-this-way-comes/9780575083066/bookmarks.html
Upon entry into a Indian barber shop, you would be forgiven for thinking that you have somehow entered a black-hole and materialized in a shop in Chennai. There would be blasting Tamil song on the radio either from Minnal FM or THR Ragaa (Ah..ah sirantha isai). Everybody would be engaged in conversation (i.e. barber and clients). This is where one can improve their command of the Tamil language- the barber will converse in the language, you can read Tamil newspapers and magazines. And this place shall be where you can update your Bollywood and Kollywood knowledge via their monthly subscription of Indian Movie News!

Within the confines of his kingdom (his shop), the barber is king. He will have an obstinate opinion about every current happening of the world, especially on Indian and Malaysian Indian politic matters and he insists on having the last say on everything. All customers have no choice but to nod in unison to whatever the Man has to say as it quite difficult to disagree with someone who has placed a blade at your jugular!
My first haircut in RRF was in a shop at Block B. It was run by a bespectacled Mr Balu (a.k.a. Kannadi Master as Appa refers to him). He had a small face covered by a over-sized pair of spectacles which was obviously too big for his face and was loosely hanging from his ears, needing constant adjustment as he carries on with his tonsorial artistry!  Just like in Lat's cartoon, you can show and tell how you want your hair to be fashioned with pictures and pin-ups. At the end of the day, you will still get your good old GI cut!  Mr Balu married a morbidly shy lady from India who would be forever be draped in her thick saree and be 'hiding' at the back of the unlit part of the shop and be just staring into thin air listening to the radio whilst the kids would be monkeying around the RRF compounds playing cops-and-robbers in the scorching heat of the afternoon tropical sun. Mr Balu would be yelling for them to study with no avail and sometimes resorting help from his friend, the brutal Mr Rotan (the rattan cane). Balu would also sometimes ask his customers to advise his kids on the necessity of education and the need to study hard. I suppose, a decade later, in a similar scenario, Madonna would sing 'Papa, don't preach!' Even I, an innocent bystander watching the whole antic, was roped in to advise his kids when he discovered that I was doing well in studies and was in PFS!
Just like that in, in every other place that I stayed, there would be an Indian Barber shop nearby which I would faithfully patronize: In Gelugor, Klang, Kuala Pilah, Seremban, Melaka, Tampoi and Kuala Lumpur. When I was studying in Kubang Kerian, Kelantan, at least when I was there in 1986-88, there were no Indian barber shops nearby. All my fellow mates and I used to have our monthly hair styling job at one particular Malay barber in Kota Bharu. The barbers in that shop were so hygienic. All the barbers were dressed in a white overall coat on top of their regular clothes and the drapes were changed with each customer. These guys had the softest and gentlest pair of hands comparable only to a lady's touch. They were so gentle with every tilt and move of your head that you could literally doze off before you actually realize that the session is over. And you do not feel or hear the clinging of the scissors shearing away your prized well -cared-for mane.
During my attachment in Edinburgh, I was heart-broken to pay the barber there ₤15 (if my memory does not fail me) which I had to pay through my nose to appear presentable so that I can be mingle amongst the local crowd to prepare myself for the exams. About that time I also parted from my dear beloved mustache, too. There were two lame reasons for this. Firstly, in the 90s in the UK, most gays were mustachioed. (Self explanatory: Not to sent the wrong vibes!). And secondly, not to appear so 'Indian'. Now, what does that even mean? Well, it has been an accepted 'wise teaching' from seniors who have sat for the similar exams that Malaysian candidates must somehow impress upon their English examiners that we are Malaysians and not Indian Indians or Hong Kies. Indians and Hong Kies tend to stay back in the UK, hog the system, fight for the same posts with the local Britishers and were generally argumentative during the viva voce, sometimes challenging the examiners themselves! Malaysian tend to pass the exams and leave. (at least it use to be)
And it worked for me...
Examiner: Well, Dr, how would you manage this patient in your hospital?
Me: In my hospital back home in Malaysia.... (giving ample time for them to digest)
Examiner: Oh, you are from Malaysia? Being the rich country that you are...
And the viva voce progressed well without a hitch...
Coming back to the barbers' story....There is nothing much more to say, is there?
Well, between 1997 and 2007, I used to use the services at Lingam's which I briefly mentioned at another post (Legacy Lost?)
' "Talking about continuing the old man's legacy, I just remembered my old barber, Lingam who succumbed to heart attack 3 or 4 years ago. When he was alive, he ran a small barber shop near our Taman. He was a mild mannered man who had only nice things to say about everything. This is a stark anomaly to most of the Indian barbers that we are accustomed to, who are strongly opinionated and you tend to agree with them as they would holding a blade at your jugular! In fact I would writing about them soon. (in midst of drafting)
Lingam's had a small following of loyal customers who actually sang praises of his simpleton way of life and his cordialness in a letter to the editor of 'The Star', our national newspaper. As always, all good things came to an end. Like Joni Mitchell sang in Big Yellow Taxi..."Don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you've got till it's gone...They paved paradise, And put up a parking lot...." Lingam died after his first fatal attack at the age of 54. (What do you know, you cannot have a second fatal attack, can you? You only live once. He had been a diabetic but kept himself trim. His morbidly over-sized chronically lethargic wife with a plethora of diseases have outlived him thus far. Perhaps, God wanted Lingam to be by his side to meet to the his tonsorial needs up in heaven!
Lingam sudden demise caught the family by surprise. His heir was a 17 year old teenager who had bigger plans on his mind - undergraduate and law studies and so forth. So, the widow hired some young punks to continue the business. After some disagreement, she got an elderly man to run the show. After a few no-shows by the replacement barber, the premises is now permanently shut. And all the loyal followers have moved on to other barbers around there. Life goes on...another legacy lost!'"
And the curtains come down on this posting but as long as Malaysians stay as Malaysians and stay miserly and thrifty with their ringgit and sen, the culture of Malaysian Indian barbers is here to stay and their curtain will be forever open to usher you to their barber's revolving chair.
You can bring in a newborn baby and inquire about their experience with balding a neonate, they will have a tall story and their reply would be, "Boss, semua boleh!" (Boss, can do!) And the results would be pretty much, pretty good and pretty cheap too!

The Mahathir paradox

• Opinion
 

 2010-10-20 16:36

• 

Former Prime Minister Tun Dr Mahathir Mohamad recently labeled democracy a failed ideology. He has also described China’s authoritarian government as a model that works better than a democratically elected one. Seriously. He did.

Another one of his “the 11 September 2001 attacks on the World Trade Centre was staged” moments no doubt, but a shocker nonetheless.

My foot massage guy from China was as surprised as I was. He asked me how many kids Mahathir had. I said seven and he wondered aloud if Mahathir knew about China’s one-child policy.

Imagine that. No Mukhriz, no Mokhzani and no Mirzan. Only Marina -- by reason of a governmental policy that you do not have a say in.

According to Mahathir, China’s political model shows that “having a non-democratic country can also give a good life for the people.”

What a load of nonsense.

Having your internet access censored is not a good life. It is a life that builds barriers around free will. It is a life based on mistrust.

Imagine typing Raja Petra in the Google search engine and receiving the irritating “Internet Explorer cannot display the webpage” message. This is what people in China experienced recently when they ran a Google search for Li Rui, Mao Zedong’s former secretary.

Of late, Chinese Premier Wen Jiabao has been speaking about the need for China to implement political reforms.

In a rare interview with CNN’s Fareed Zakaria, the Chinese Premier was asked the following question:

Fareed: You speak in your speeches about how China is not yet a strong and creative nation in terms of its economy. Can you be a strong and creative nation with so many restrictions on the freedom of expression with the internet being censored? Don’t you need to open all that up if you want true creativity?

The Chinese Premier began his answer by bluntly saying as follows:

Wen Jiabao: I believe that freedom of speech is indispensable for any country in the course of development and a country that has become strong.

Despite the Chinese Premier speaking a lot about political reform of late, many Chinese do not know about it because the Chinese censors have seen it fit to black out those parts of his speeches within China.

I am sure Mahathir would be livid if the Malaysian censors did the same thing to his speeches although I know many people in Malaysia who would be quite pleased if this happened.

Going to jail for writing about fundamental freedoms and being prevented from seeing your family while you are in jail is also not a good life. It is a life that punishes original thought as long as it is not in conformity with the government’s agenda. It is a life that severs the spirit.

This is what is happening to 2010 Nobel Peace Prize winner and activist Liu Xiabao who co-authored Charter 08 which called for democratic reforms in one party China. For his role in Charter 08, Liu was punished with“eleven years' imprisonment and two years' deprivation of political rights.”
Getting shot dead for committing economic offenses and offenses concerning public safety or public order is not a good life. It is a life filled with cruel and unusual punishment.

This is the reality of China’s capital punishment policy -- even for non-violent crimes.

Our founding fathers fought bravely for independence and the right to choose our leaders. They rejected dictatorships in favour of the right to vote and we must protect this against any suggestion that the China model of zero political freedom is the way forward or as Mahathir says -- an alternative “worth studying”.

The China we see today will not survive for long. Already last week, 23 former Chinese Communist Party officials led by Li Rui, published an open letter challenging the government to increase speech and press freedom.

Not surprising, of course, that many people in China could not read this open letter.

According to a Bloomberg report, the link to the Chinese version of the letter resulted in computer screens showing “network error”.

In any event, just like water, liberty will find its way through because it is good and it is right.

China may be economically successful now, but in time the country will go searching for its soul and only the fundamental freedoms such as speech and the right to vote can help find it.

Malaysia does not need to look to China to make progress and become successful. The secret to that lies in our Federal Constitution. That is the only place we need to look.

Another one that flew from our nest!

Every now and then our local dailies will sing praises of world standard achievements of supposedly 'Malaysians' where the only Malaysian thing about them would be their or their parent(s) place of birth. Malaysia probably had nothing to do with their grooming or nurturing! Or there may be a remote thread of a connection to her mother who was married once to a Malaysian, like in the case of the out-of-closet Penny Wong, the first Asian Finance Minister of Australia. Then there is the story of Sufiah Yusof, the Oxford Maths child prodigy turned social escort (₤130 pounds/hour) whose mother was Malaysian.The latest to join this list of celebrities is the Ipoh-born Tan Zhang Shan.

From the era of his predecessors in the late 70s, Singapore has been engaging in a devious plan to woo bright Malaysian across the causeway by dangling carrots in the form of ASEAN scholarship and tertiary education scholarships. Many of my classmates in Penang Free School are and have been contributing to the economy and the first world status that their new found motherland which is currently enjoying.
 Tan's achievement is laudable but deep inside Malaysia as a country should feel ashamed that we have failed to identify and groom him to be the nation's priceless asset. But then I supposed Tan does not fall in the nation's master plan and agenda (whatever it is...).

Ipoh-born, Cambridge educated, Malaysia’s loss, Singapore’s gain

By Mariam Mokhtar

Tan Zhong Shan

He did his parents proud, his teachers are equally elated, his birthplace is euphoric to claim he is one
of them, and his country would have been ecstatic. His name is Tan Zhongshan and he was born in Ipoh. He chose to read law at university because he said, “Being in the legal line gives you a chance to make changes that have a far-reaching effect.”
In June, Tan received a first–class honours in Bachelor of Arts (Law) at Queen’s College, Cambridge, one of the world’s top most universities. Cambridge, England’s second oldest university, usually contends with Oxford for first place in the UK university league tables.
Tan excelled as the top student in his final-year law examinations, but he also won the “Slaughter and May” prize, awarded by the Law Faculty for the student with the best overall performance. In addition, he managed to bag the Norton Rose Prize for Commercial Law, the Clifford Chance Prize for European Union Law and the Herbert Smith Prize for Conflict of Laws. Tan distinguished himself and was a source of help to his fellow students, according to his tutor and the dean of Queen’s college, Dr. Martin Dixon. Dr. Dixon said, ““He is probably the best Malaysian student I have seen in the last 10 years. He is the most able, dedicated and one of the most likeable students I have taught in more than 20 years at Cambridge. He works really hard, has great insight and intuition. He is a problem-solver, listens well and learns.” However, the 23-year-old Tan shrugged off his accomplishments which he said was due to “consistent work and a detailed understanding of the subjects.” Tan, who plays classical guitar, was modest about his success, “It was a pleasant surprise as it is hard to predict the end results.”
Sadly, this brilliant, young Malaysian will not be working in Malaysia. Tan, who has been in Singapore since August, expects to complete his Bar examinations by the end of 2011 and said, “I will also join the Singapore Legal Service in January”. After completing his A-levels at the Temasek Junior College, the Singapore Ministry of Education awarded him an Asean scholarship. Tan will not be the first nor last Malaysian who we let slip through our fingers. It makes many ordinary Malaysians quietly fill with rage that the policies of our government reward the mediocre or the ‘can-do’ types and ignore the best and the brightest. When will this madness end?
Our judiciary was one of the best in the region, but today, it is not fit for purpose. Sadly, we have clowns and fools to dictate how our courts are run. The best comedy act was played out recently in the Teoh Beng Hock trial when Thai pathologist Pornthip Rojanasunand was cross-examined by presumably the best of the attorney general’s bunch of merry-men. If that is how Malaysian lawmakers prefer to project their image to the world, then they really need their heads examined. We are haemorrhaging our best talent to countries that receive them with open arms. Record numbers of Malaysians are leaving – doctors, surgeons, nurses, lawyers, accountants, lecturers, engineers, quantity surveyors. We are experiencing the biggest exodus in our 53-year history. It is estimated that there are over 1 million Malaysians living and working abroad, many of whom are highly qualified personnel.
If the government thinks that it is only the non-Malays who are leaving then they are wrong. If Malays
are also leaving in large numbers then it should be obvious (which it is presumably to the ordinary man in the street but not to our government) that preferential treatment for Malays is not a major pull nor conducive to the normal thinking person.
What other countries do is to offer Malaysians opportunities - something which is not available, to the
majority of Malaysians, of whichever racial origin. Our government fails to realise that people need to
feel appreciated and thrive in conditions which stimulate personal development. Government interference in the things that affect the personal lives of its citizens is what has kept many overseas Malaysians away. At the end of the day, most people value the things that have to do with their quality of life (not just for themselves but especially for their families), the laws, bureaucracy and tax.
Apart from having the best brains, those who left are probably the more assertive ones, the highly
ambitious people who would have made good mentors, able and strong leaders. Their absence from
our system only weakens us, as a nation. Will these people return if the ISA is around? No. These people would probably find living in Malaysia under such conditions, like treading on eggshells. How about corruption, nepotism, cronyism, lack of transparency, limited civil service and educational
opportunities, questionable performance-based promotion, lack of freedom of worship, expression
and speech, unfair preferential housing, fear for their personal safety and lack of open tenders for
government contracts?
These are some of the things that are due for immediate review, but only if Najib is serious about
reversing the brain-drain and only if he wants to improve Malaysia’s economy and reputation. At a time when the country needs to tighten its belt and take effective measures to build a quality nation based on its human capital, Najib seems to build pointless monuments in mega-projects. Why not channel the funds and invest in its best resource – its people? Malaysia is now paying the price for its crippling policies which our government feels unable,incapable or fearful of changing. Najib recently warned us about the dangers of not embracing change. He is right. And we are all for it.Forget about directing Talent Corporation to search for these ‘overseas’ Malaysians. If Najib refuses to make the all-important changes in the country, they will not be swayed. So when will he legislate for change?
And one last thing: We congratulate Ipoh-born Tan Zhongshan on his outstanding achievements and wish him a bright future.

http://blog.limkitsiang.com/

Mizuno Wave Run

And yet another run was completed yesterday - 17th October 2010, UPM Mizuno Wave Run. As the name suggests, the terrain of the run was wavy with hills and valleys. And the number of my running buddies have increased in number. A neighbour, Rajinder and his friend, Jagjeet have also caught the running bug. As for me, it was not a great run to shout about. This time around the run was a bit slower than last year's timing but it was all it was all done in the name of exercise and healthy living. Results:

CATEGORY	GENDER	OVERALL	NAME	BIB NO	SPLIT1	CHIP TIME	GUN TIME
114	522	569	SURESH KUMAR A/L P. SHANMUGAM	3019	34:50.10	1:02:49.75	1:03:11.80
537	787	863	JAGJEET SINGH GHILLEN	1701	41:46.39	1:08:49.12	1:07:08.42
202	924	1016	ASOKAN SHAMUGANATHAN	3020	40:25.51	1:07:36.16	1:09:11.63
918	1302	1501	RAJINDER SINGH A/L KULDIP SINGH	1661	45:23.06	1:17:27.46	1:15:47.16

Next stop: 21st November 2010 @ Penang Bridge Run.... 

Of hope and deliverance..

In spite Nosradamus' and other doomsday prophets' predictions of impending doom to the human race and human civilization, we as a race have managed to pull through thus far. Many economists have also forecast widespread famine and starvation by the end of the 19th century after looking at the exponentially world population growth versus the slow increase in food supply. And the holier-than-thou preachers of various religions of the world ostracized John Hunter and his medical team for finding a cure then for syphilis (which was considered as God's punishment for people indulging in unholy union of sexes) who predicted that the End was near for evil ruled the world which supposedly will cause God's wrath and annihilation of the human race.  

Houston, we have a problem!

We managed to dodge all these. When we are fed up and tired of reading and hearing of destruction and decadence, we occasionally hear of the undying fighting spirit of the human race. After the Apollo 13 rescue mission, this can be the next breaking news of drama in real life. The people of Chile collectively ought to be proud of their accomplishment.69days of 33 miners rescued in one piece! My No.1 candidate for Man of the year 2010. Chilean mine disaster rescue mission. Viva Chile!

http://www.time.com/time/world/article/0,8599,2025950,00.html

Lessons from the Chile Mine Rescue: What Underdogs Can Teach Us

By Tim Padgett / San José Mine Friday, Oct. 15, 2010

Trapped miner Luis Urzua (C) stands with Chile's 

President Sebastian Pinera after reaching the surface 

and emerging from the "Phoenix" rescue capsule to

 become the last to be rescued from the San Jose mine

in Copiapo. Hugo Infante / Reuters

Jimmy Sánchez, 19, the youngest miner, is a talented soccer forward, but he doesn't score all that many goals because his first (and fairly admirable) instinct when he senses an opposing counterattack is to drop back and help out on defense. Mario Gómez, 63, the oldest, has silicosis, a common lung ailment among miners, but he's kept at the job because he wants to augment the support of his seven grandchildren, the youngest of whom turned seven months the day before he was rescued. 

The first to emerge, Florencio Avalos, 31, is so shy he volunteered to be the cameraman to video-monitor the other miners' health for officials at the surface so he didn't have to be filmed himself. The last to emerge, Luis Urzúa, 54, is an avuncular foreman whose firm but calm discipline — not to mention his judicious rationing of paltry supplies of canned tuna and oily water — held his 32 crew members together during the two weeks before help arrived, even when it must have seemed to many of them that they were doomed to die 2,000 feet underground.

One of the quieter is Darío Segovia, 48, who's been mining since he was eight-years old and had already been through so many on-the-job accidents, his mother Margarita told me, that even during this ordeal he felt "like a cat who has at least three or four lives left." One of the more gregarious is Mario Sepúlveda, 40, who played the emcee on the first video of the miners sent up after they were discovered huddled in their 538-sq-ft subterranean shelter — and who joked with Chilean President Sebastián Piñera, even leading Piñera's cabinet members in rowdy cheers, as soon as he stepped out of the rescue capsule early Wednesday morning.

When books are written about the 70-day saga of the 33 miners who were all pulled alive from the bowels of Chile's collapsed San José Mine this past week — and six- if not seven-figure publishing deals are already being negotiated — they'll no doubt muse at length about what kind of character it takes to survive as extraordinarily as these ordinary men did. But as their profiles suggest, there is no easy answer to that question, and there may be no answer at all. The presence of the shy, steady Avalos helped keep things tranquil below; but the garrulous, cheerful Sepúlveda played just as important a role in keeping the group buoyed (and at times annoyed). Officials above designated both los más hábiles— the most able — and so brought them up in the ultra-claustrophic rescue capsule's first and riskiest ascents.That's why the world responded so passionately to Los 33: not because their heroism revealed itself via scripted type, but because it seemed as unexpected in them as it would in ourselves. And no one exulted more than Latin Americans, who see in the miners a hopeful reminder that their countries don't have to be defined by the corrupt egomaniacs who so often run them. The term for "underdogs" in Spanish is los de abajo — which literally means "those below" — and it's never sounded more gallant to this continent than it does now.
The question is whether the miners can summon the heroism they'll need going forward — namely, not succumbing to either the post-traumatic stress that psychologists say awaits them as surely as the first sunrises they're seeing since the Aug. 5 mine collapse, or to the corrosive effects of the money and fame already rising around their ankles. A Chilean tycoon has sent each of them checks for more than $10,000; Greek islands want them and their families to come luxuriate in the Aegean, and powerhouse European soccer clubs want them to stand on their sidelines. One of the miners, Elvis Presley fan Edison Peña, has been offered a lifetime pass to Graceland. A Chilean TV bombshell has even offered to give each miner a lapdance.

So far they're handling the daylight circus with the same aplomb they displayed in their shadowy tomb. They've agreed to profit from their miraculous story collectively and as evenly as possible. And most of them — like Goómez, whose most important wish at this point is to give his wife Liliana next month the formal church wedding they never had — seem to be focusing less on the lucre ahead of them than on the human riches they ached for underground. (Although for some even that will be a complicated challenge — especially Yonni Barrios, 50, who escaped the mine this week only to fall into a thorny love triangle between him, his wife and his mistress, who turned out to be the woman waiting for him when he emerged.)

This weekend, most if not all the remarkably healthy miners will leave the hospital in Copiapó where they've been under observation. Their families, along with the international media horde, will dismantle Camp Hope, the dusty tent city that grew up alongside the San José mine in the northern Chilean desert during the two-month vigil. It was a symbol of both the religious innocence and carnival cynicism that surrounded this drama, and which promise to follow the miners for months if not years. The best the rest of us can do is embrace the traits that helped them survive — which, as they proved, aren't much more "heroic" than the simple qualities that make us good people — long after the last tent at Camp Hope has been carried away.

The forgotten anniversary

The man who fought for justice

Aliran, on 14 October 2010

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When D R Seenivasagam passed away in 1969, some 150,000 people lined the streets of Ipoh to bid him a touching final farewell. Who was this man? Andrew Lin explains.

Passion for justice: D R Seenivasagam remembered - Photo credit: ipohworld.org

15 March 2010 was the 41st anniversary of the passing of D R Seeni-vasagam, or DR as he was affectionately known, a great and illustrious son of Ipoh. Sadly, the day passed by without any mention of the event in the obituary pages of our local newspapers.

To old-timers of Ipoh, Darma Raja Seenivasagam needs no introduction at all. He was the President of the People’s Progressive Party (PPP), one of the earliest political parties formed in pre-independent Malaya. Under his leadership, the PPP captured control of the Ipoh Town Council — the forerunner to the Ipoh Municipal Council and later the Ipoh City Council — in 1958 and provided efficient local government for the people of Ipoh.

DR’s charisma and extraordinary ability to articulate the aspirations of the masses endeared him to all who came in contact with him – from the towkay to the coolie. It is a well known fact that his most loyal supporters were the downtrodden of society namely the hawkers, petty traders, trishaw peddlers, labourers and others of the working class like the now-forgotten dulang washers. These people remained faithful to DR to the end.

Unfortunately, those born after 1969 have grown up with little or no knowledge of the man who, as the opposition Member of Parliament for Ipoh, was a constant thorn in the side of the then ruling Alliance government. DR was also an outstanding criminal lawyer in the country. On several occasions, his brilliance and skill in the legal profession spared many on the wrong side of the law from the gallows.

As a mark of remembrance for this towering personality, I, a humble retired senior citizen from Kuala Lumpur and a one-time resident here, invite you, good readers, to join me in a trip down memory lane and together reminisce our impressions and thoughts of DR – the man who fought for justice. Please share your insights with me so that the memory of this beloved leader who had done so much for Ipoh and its citizens will be perpetuated for our future generations.

This commentary is my own personal recollections and may contain inaccuracies of fact due to the passage of time, for which I sincerely apologise. Feel free to correct any discrepancies, where necessary. Some of the road names mentioned have since been changed and may be unfamiliar to some of us.

Remembering D R Seenivasagam
I did not know DR personally, neither have I spoken to him. But like most people of my generation, I have tremendous respect and admiration for the man. That has not wavered over the years. Despite his wealth and fame, DR chose to take on the role as champion of the poor and a fighter against all forms of injustice in the country.

In the glory days of the PPP, DR’s name was a household word. His name was frequently mentioned in the newspapers, the market place, the coffee shops or almost any place where people gathered for a casual chat. Practically every adult and even school children in Ipoh knew who DR was, and many had sought his assistance and services at one time or another.

My earliest recollection of DR was watching him with his group of friends and party colleagues from the upstairs of our shop-house along Panglima Street in Ipoh’s Old Town way back in 1961. They were walking to the famous Leech Street coffee shops. DR’s law firm of S Seenivasagam & Sons, which also acted as the headquarters of the PPP, was located at 7 Hale Street, a stone’s throw away from where I lived.

I remember DR was always in a jovial mood and had a hearty laugh to go with his raised voice. People on the street greeted him spontaneously. DR reciprocated with his usual charm and extended his hands to them in friendship. Such rapport with the people on the street by a so-called ‘big shot’ was fairly uncommon those days and was something to behold. DR was truly a man of the masses.

Unlike most politicians of that time, DR was genuinely approachable and accessible to any one who needed his help. He was known to give free legal services to those who could not afford to pay. Many poor people sought his assistance to find employment as labourers in the various local councils in and around Ipoh. So did the people who enlisted his help to obtain hawkers’ licences.

Road side hawkers implored his intervention to resolve problems caused by the high-handed action of over-zealous enforcement officers. Illiterate trishaw pedallers and errant taxi drivers who flouted traffic laws and those involved in other minor offences were often let off with a stiff warning by the police out of respect for DR, who would invariably intercede on their behalf. A telephone call to the relevant authorities or a press statement by DR was all it needed to settle the issue at hand. Such was the level of esteem and respect that DR commanded.

Thus the hawkers and other petty traders were able to conduct their businesses with the comforting thought that DR was always there for them so long as they adhered to the municipal by-laws, which were implemented in a most humane fashion.

DR inspired a generation of youths by his unusual talents both as a lawyer and as a politician. I know of at least three youths of my time who were staunch admirers of DR and who in later years became successful members of parliament themselves. One of them won DR’s old seat of Ipoh in the 1986 General Elections.

DR’s fiery oratory and his willingness to help the underdog were traits that caught the attention of people of all ages. During my time in school, excerpts of DR’s parliamentary speeches and other press releases were often quoted by participants during elocution contests and debates held at class or inter-school levels.

As a politician, DR did his very best for the people of Ipoh, irrespective of their colour or creed, despite his hectic schedule. He had many assistants and volunteers to attend to the people who thronged his office every day of the week, many of whom had come from far away places to seek his help.

In the days when public rallies were allowed to take place, the children’s playground along Brewster Road (where the Umno Building is presently located) was the favourite venue for most of the PPP rallies. According to my contemporaries, this was DR’s battle-ground, where he met his friends and fought his enemies. Huge crowds gathered to listen to PPP leaders as they explained their stand on the current issues of the day.

DR was always the star-speaker at such rallies and would invariably be the last to address the crowd. DR spoke in English and a smattering of colloquial Malay to the multi-racial crowd. He had a very versatile interpreter named Mak Fei Hoong to help him along for the benefit of his Chinese-speaking audience. Mak, as most old-timers would testify, was not conversant in oral English but understood the language and could give the verbatim Cantonese translation flawlessly, often with a touch of humour too! No wonder then that PPP rallies attracted such mammoth crowds.

Outspoken and courageous

One of DR’s most notable achievements in his short parliamentary career spanning less than 12 years, was his courageous expose of corruption involving a cabinet minister by the name of Abdul Rahman Talib, then Education Minister. When challenged by the minister to repeat the allegation outside Parliament, DR wasted no time in complying.

At the historical Chinese Assembly Hall along Birch Road (now Jalan Maharaja Lela) in Kuala Lumpur, DR did the needful before a packed audience and was taken to court for libel and slander. This celebrated case ended in DR’s favour in December 1964. The minister appealed the decision the following year but was again unsuccessful. Needless to say, DR’s stature as a fearless parliamentarian grew further from then.

DR’s eloquence in debating the contentious issues of the day like education, language and human rights won him grudging respect and admiration from his political opponents in Parliament , including the then Prime Minister, the late Tunku Abdul Rahman.

DR was a London-trained lawyer and specialised in criminal law. He first came into public prominence as the lawyer who defended a young Chinese girl named Lee Meng for alleged militant communist activities during the Emergency. Although DR did not win this case, his reputation as an able and courageous lawyer grew by leaps and bounds.

DR was involved in a number of high-profile criminal cases, and his superb performance as the defence counsel was given wide publicity in the media. Despite his fiery disposition, DR conducted himself in the best traditions of the Bar. He was never over-domineering and was known to extend his utmost courtesy to his less experienced colleagues in court.

He fought all his cases, big or small to the best of his ability, using his tremendous power of persuasion and argument to the full, much to the chagrin of the opposing public prosecutor. Indeed, DR’s brilliant performance was a source of inspiration for many young budding lawyers of the day.

DR’s private life was equally interesting. A chain smoker, DR was always seen with a cigarette in his mouth, both in public or in his office. His addiction to tobacco from an early age resulted in his smoking more than 80 sticks a day.

DR came from a wealthy Ceylonese (now Sri Lankan) family. His late father was an eminent lawyer himself prior to the Japanese occupation of Malaya. The Seenivasagam family owned several landed properties in Ipoh but over the years, most of these were disposed of to finance the PPP’s expansion and activities in the Kinta Valley and in other parts of the country.

DR’s affluence as a successful lawyer was manifested in the fleet of expensive cars that he had. He was the proud owner of an American convertible, the Lincoln Continental, and a Jaguar. In later years, a bright red Cadillac bearing the easily-recognisable registration plate, AJ 6666 was his regular companion on the road.

His fondness for life, dancing, good food and the companionship of Chinese lady friends was an open secret. He was often seen in night-clubs in the company of close friends and associates. Drinking was also one of his other indulgences.

DR remained a bachelor all his life. He lived with his elder brother, Dato S.P. Seenivasagam, at the latter’s official residence of the President of the Ipoh Municipal Council along Tiger Lane, together with Datin Seenivasagam and his two unmarried sisters.

DR died of a massive heart attack at the age of 48, barely two months before the country’s general election. Till today, many still believe that the funeral procession of DR was the grandest and most touching ever seen by the people of Ipoh.

Rest in peace, dear DR.

Source: ipohworld.org

Reel masala action

Sometimes some of my non-Indian friends used to ask me, in my childhood days, why were Indian movies so melodramatic with songs being sung at every occasion, be it happy, sad, desperate or devotional scenes? The answer is simple. That is their brand. Just like you have music and movies of different genre, this is what you get from India. The heavenly Greek Gods-like beautiful dancing actors with Kashmiri backdrop from Bollywood  and charismatic not so dashing but swashbuckling stars with lower budget films from the south. Why is their storyline so convoluted and lasting almost 3 hours and just Indian curry is a potpourri of comedy, suspense, action, preaching of good Indian values, tragedy, triumph all in one often ending in a fairy tale like fashion with good prevailing over evil and everybody living happily forever and ever . In the words of a Chennai import who happened to be a Vijay (Ilaya Thalapathi) die-hard fan, whom I had the pleasure to talk to, "We already have enough sadness around us in Chennai, why do want to pay money to feel sad after a movie?"
Actually, besides the masala movie that we are often exposed to, Indian movie industry also produces many artistic true to life critically acclaimed movies (e.g. 36 Chowrangi Lane which I viewed in USM during a filmfest in 1981). Sadly, there is not where the money is, so nobody wants to go there.