Interlocking horns over 'Intelok'

So, the curious cat in me, even though by the Chinese zodiac I am a tame rabbit, took the better of me to indulge in a little of culture. Anyway, myriad of folks of different walk of life have had their 2sens' worth of input of this topic. Ministers are having emergency sittings to discuss it, attention seekers are burning the book (like the Chinese did in the Cultural Revolution), aspiring politicians rather spend a night in jail than hanging around Batu Caves fulfilling their religious vows and so on and so forth.
I am talking about the introduction of the book 'Intelok' for the Form 5 Malay Literature. This book was actually written way back in 1971 by a Malaysian laureate, Abdullah Hussain. Nobody had heard (at least I have not) of him since this brouhaha. Most Malaysians know A. Samad Said and Shanon Ahmad, but Abdullah who?
Literature has never been my forte since school. 'The 20,000 leagues under the sea' and 'King Solomon's mines' that I studied  in school did and still appear Greek to me even though it was meant to be for English Literature! Tamil proverbs say, 'Appreciation of arts and culture comes only after a full stomach'.Hence, with a background like Rifle Range Boy's, one should not expect him to appreciate the finer things in life! With affluence comes appreciation of arts, culture and couture!
Right.
So , I finally laid hands on the said book to have first hand experience to understand the ruckus that it had created. It is actually an average book with no so high in the scale of literary value. I tend to compare it the last Malaysian laureate's  penning that I read in 1998, 'Shit...' by Shanon Ahmad, a political satire on the then Prime Minister's cabinet. Imagine, reading an author's artistic skillful rendition and personification of the human excretion and its passage via the alimentary canal over and over again in a 100 over paged little book!

[Warning: Spoiler alert]

The book is basically made up of 4 chapters.

The  first chapter introduces Seman. At death bed, he hears his dying father’s dark secret. His father mentions that their seemingly well to do family is actually in tatters, financially speaking. (This gives a new meaning to the phrase ‘mention in the passing’!) Seman is well versed in reciting the Koran but actually an illiterate to Roman scripts. He soon discovers that his house, farm together with its animals and produce belong to a shrewd Chinese shopkeeper (Cina Panjang) in a nearby town who shows him some documents that his father had borrowed large amounts of money. Cing Huat, who appeared warm and cordial when his family used to take groceries from the shop earlier, now demands for the land to be leased to others to make more money. Seman, infuriated, almost goes amok and leaves the village with his mother mysteriously. 

The second chapter dwells on Cing Huat (a 10 year old lad) and his father who had to escape the clutches of poverty in Southern China. After repeated failure of crops, the latest being locusts’ attack on the padi fields, they migrate leaving the mother and sister behind after seeing a fellow villager becomes successful in the land down south. The story narrates their escapade of venturing new towns, the high seas, motion sickness and finally their final destination, Singapore. Description of the journey details their peculiar eating habits of the Chinese like eating locusts, liberal vivid description of hanging pork meat in the port town of Amoy, their liberal consumption of cheap alcoholic brew, cheating and gambling. The zest for better life sees Cing Huat and his father perform many menial jobs like trishaw pulling, night soil attending, working day and night in a restaurant and any other way just to earn money to send back home. After many ups and downs, they managed to buy over a sundry shop. Their business prospers with their dedication. His father has a mistress, indulges in opium and subsequently succumbs to his addiction. Cing Huat inherits the shop and becomes a nasty businessman due to the bitter experiences he endured in his life. Cing Huat is actually the Cina Panjang mentioned in Chapter 1. By this time, you get the feeling that the book is becoming very racial in outlook. Unnecessary detailing of pork in its text is evident. During the wedding dinner, for no obvious reason, the author writes about pork filled dumplings. Throughout Chapter 2, Caucasians are only referred to as ‘Syaitan Putih’ (White Devil), from the ship captain to Cing Huat’s father’s customers in Singapore. Everybody (other than Malays) is referred as kuai (ghost) – Malai kuai and Indo kuai.  A lot of racial stereotyping and profiling is clear. Chinese appear suspicious about everybody, including their own flesh and blood. They are made uncomfortable with Chinese of different dialects (Hakka, Kwangtung, and etcetera). They glorify the Chinese education system and their motherland repeatedly. Cing Huat’s second son, Yew Seng,  (many years later) is reprimanded by Cing Huat for not following his family traits but rather found solace in mixing with his Malay neighbours, fearing that their laziness will inflict him as well! Chapter 2 ends with a family feud where Yew Seng accuses the father of being inhumane for depriving Seman of a roof over his head. Yew Seng then runs away from home.

Chapter 3 is the chapter that has got a lot of people excited, creating a mountain out of a molehill. The excerpt of the infamous verse goes like this…                                 

SS Rajula

 “……..Di dalam kapal ini dia tidak susah. Sebahagian besar daripada penumpang dek yang bersama-sama itu dapat bercakap dalam satu bahasa sahaja, bahasa Tamil. Mereka yang dari arah ke utara sedikit bercakap dalam bahasa Malayalam atau Telugu, tetapi hampir semuanya tahu bahasa Tamil. Malayalam dan Telugu pun berasal dari satu rumpun bahasa Dravida. Satu perkara besar yang membuatkan mereka senang bergaul kerana mereka tergolong dalam satu kasta Pariah. Mereka tidak perlu takut akan mengotori sesiapa kalau bersentuhan. Mereka juga bebas bergaul. Tempat di dalam kapal itu tidak teratur. Mereka terasak-asak seperti kambing……”

The third installment is the story of Maniam. After facing financial difficulties in Kerala, India, he heads to Malaya leaving his young wife back home. He lands in Penang and works hard as a coolie in the harbor, diligently sending money back home. He later hears from a new arrival that his money never reached his wife and due to poverty, his wife remarried a rich man who in fact was supposed to hand the money to his wife! Hey, this sounds like the story line of the Tamil movie, ‘Koondu Kili’ – the only movie where Tamil movie legends MGR and Sivaji acted together. If fact, many of the scenes narrated in ‘Intelok’ seem to have Indian movie flavor in it. Feeling distraught and embarrassed by the devastating news,  he moves down from Penang to the Peninsular and gains employment in a coconut plantation and marries the daughter of his foreman, without revealing too much about his marital history. Things were going fine till one of his former acquaintances lands up in the same plantation. (Coincidences, Tamil movie or what?).  He spilled the beans on his previous marriage and added more masala to it that Maniam had willing absconded from his ailing wife. A quarrel ensues and the plantation community decides that Maniam should leave.  (More melodrama…) So Maniam leaves his gravid wife (he had sow his oats earlier!) in the care of his father in law.  As Maniam leaves the estate,  he is assaulted by his enemies but is rescued by Seman’s father. A special bond starts. They become good friends, work together for some time before parting ways. Three years on, Maniam’s wife, now with a son (Ramakrisynan) discovers his innocence and there is a possibility that she could have committed suicide!

Merdeka!

The final chapter is basically the story of how these 3 characters becomes intertwined -  20 years on, Maniam helps Seman and his mother to get a job in a plantation; Yew Seng (Cing Huat’s second son) gain employment in a tin mine and joins Anti Japanese resistance force to free his mother land from foreign invaders. He later joins the Communist to rid of British off Malaya; Seman marries a rich bride and his reputation in society is restored; Ramakrisyna (Maniam’s son) becomes a police officer to restore peace and order in the country. The Japanese occupation of Malaya in World War II unites the various races in the country and after their departure; the call for Independence grows louder with various inputs from various communities.  Just like a melodramatic Indian movie of the 70s (e.g. Sholay, Yaadon Ki Baraat, Haathi Mere Saathi), a lot things happen in the last chapter. The characters in the story resigned to the idea of Malaya as their Motherland. They take pride in running the country and integrating with other races. Yew Seng, realizing his wayward ways, turns into a turncoat, double-crosses the Communists who are later apprehended by Ramakrisyna and his team. The book ends with Seman, Yew Seng (who had an above-knee amputation in his endeavour to expose the enemy) and Ramakrisyna planning a trip to the capital city to usher the Independence of their young nation. This chapter alone nullifies all the negative connotations that the author had earlier publicized.

 One has look at the bigger picture, rather than looking with rather jaundiced eyes at the small trivial issues. There are more negative things written about the Chinese but we do not see them raising an issue –does this denote maturity?  The feel good feeling that seeps into the story may act as lubricant for its readers to appreciate the sacrifices that our forefathers had done for our present prosperity.

Joint effort 1949 Thomas Cup

My final verdict for the uproar on this book is there is nothing to get upset about. Of course, he could have omitted a few unnecessary parts. Of course, the Ministry could have chosen other books of Malay language with literary value. You can also say that the 17 years olds may not be mature enough to look at the bigger, but that is precisely the reason in learning Literature – to mature one’s mind. This book brings forth to our minds our prejudiced past with its discriminative policies with no feelings towards peoples’ feelings!

Multi-ethnic 70s Malaysian team

We sneered when the ulamaks in Iran passed a decree on Salman Rushdie’s head when he published the ‘Satanic Verses’ and when some crackpots demonstrated after the Norwegian caricature of Prophet Mohammad. It would not take long for the same ridicule by others for our recent actions. 

Unfriendly Welcome!

The eyes of a killer?

The past two events over the past two months really leaves a bad after taste in the mouth. I am talking about the Cameron Highlands bus tragedy killing 28 Thai tourists and the ruthless mauling of a Irish voluntary helper  by two mongrels in an organic farm in Penang. Just as fast the news was publicized, the predictable knee-jerk type reached its climax.  Most Malaysians are lull to these responses (no sense of deja vu here!) as these actions and reactions are so predictable. Comments like 'we would look into the matter', 'no stones would be left unturned', 'the findings would be made public' or 'a royal inquiry would be set up' are sine-qua-non as press statements of officials after a national catastrophe. It has been going on from the days of Highland Towers tragedy and will go on. Just like the croaking of toads after a torrential rainfall, silence would fall after the crescendo and it can quite deafening at times!
Just like that it is now status quo, tourist bus will still ply the Thailand to Cameron Highlands route and the organic farm will still prosper will the fallen blood droplet of an Irishman!

Waltzing Matilda

Just like in Edinburgh, I found the workers in Melbourne showing great dedication in their work (profession), (i.e. if and when they decided to work). In Edinburgh, (whilst gazing out my window between my preparation for my exams), I was particularly impressed to see how the sanitation department employees, i.e. rubbish collectors, actually placed the lid back on after disposing off the garbage and also putting back the bin at its designated place. This is a far cry from what we have in Malaysia, where blue collar workers of crony owned companies originating from third world countries of the lowest rung of the ladder trying to impart their brand of work ethics here. Evidence of the garbage truck having done their round need not be guessed as it and its workers would have left an apparent trail of evidence - bits of trash strewn around, garbage bins and lids all over and 'aroma' from leachete left dripping from the truck to deodorize the Taman!

Over Great Ocean Rd

In that aspect, I was totally taken by the enthusiasm shown by a Greyline tour bus operator, Daryll, who took us on trip along the Great Ocean Road off Melbourne. Carrying a passenger load of 60, he single-handedly swerved along the winding coastal road whilst giving a complete running commentary all along, stopping at selected photo shoot areas, doing a head count after passenger alighted the bus after each stop, and even preparing Aussie tea with eucalyptus leaves for morning tea. And the best part is his commentary was not just for the sake of imparting information. It was laced with clever witty lines with lots of historical and even medical stuff that a Malaysian would not expect his average bus driver to know. He was narrating about the construction of the coastal road (Great Ocean Road). At a time when economy was down just after the first World War, many disillusioned Australian soldiers returned with what would be termed today as post traumatic stress (I did not expect this from a non-medical personnel). To stimulate the economy, this soldiers were sent off to work on the great roads. The evening gathering over the fire and catharsis provided a kind of group therapy to these sufferers. Of course, this story was laced with many funny anecdotes and smart remarks to last over 1hour. In between his story he would interrupt with information of sunken ships and the events that led to its sinking, about somebody's grave, how it was supposed to be relocated but the road went on his grave anyway, about the Twelve apostles and so on and so forth.

Twelve Apostles?

On the way back from the 12 apostles was time for dissemination of Australian culture. Before screening an Australian movie on the bus TV, he gave a 1 hour rendition of his interpretation of the truly Aussie song- Waltzing Matilda. Let me try to recall... (with Daryll's comment beside the lyrics)


Lyrics to Waltzing Matilda :Banjo Paterson

Once a jolly swagman camped by a billabong
Under the shade of a coolibah tree
And he sang as he watched and waited till his billy boiled
You'll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me

Banjo Paterson's real name was Andrew Barton Paterson. He decided to change to Banjo Paterson as probably with a name like Andrew Barton it made an easy prey for his mates to bully him off his lunch box! Swagman is a travelling odd job helper in farm, like a rolling stone. He sat by a river (billabong), under a shady coolibah tree (native Aussie tree) singing while waiting for his kettle (billy) to come to boil. That is when he thought of a young maiden who actually cared for him many years when she finally married off to a rich land owner. He would always think of the warm dance (waltz) with his dear Matilda.

Down came a jumbuck to drink at the billabong
Up got the swaggie and grabbed him with glee
And he sang as he stowed that jumbuck in his tucker-bag
You'll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me

Along came a sheep (jumbuck) for a drink. Our hero happily pounced on the prey and put in to his knapsack (tucker-bag)
Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda
You'll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me
And he sang as he stowed that jumbuck in his tucker-bag
You'll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me

In another scene, a landlord come back home after a hard at work. He asked his wife the most common three words uttered by any hot blooded Australian man, "What's for dinner?!". The wife half heartedly replied, "As if you don't already know, we always have baked beef on Thursdays!". The man said, "But, I smell roast lamb! Are you not fooling me?" The landlord then knew the somebody had been feasting on his sheep. He jumped on his majestic horse, called in the local police (3 of them) and located our hero. "What's that in your haversack? You have come with me to jail" said the Sheriff.

Down came the squatter mounted on his thoroughbred
Up came the troopers One Two Three
Who's the jolly jumbuck you've got in your tucker-bag?
You'll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me
Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda
You'll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me
Who's the jolly jumbuck you've got in your tucker-bag?
You'll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me.
Up got the swaggie and jumped into the billabong
You'll never catch me alive said he
And his ghost may be heard as you pass by that billabong
You'll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me
In those rowdy early days of Australia, one would be hanged for stealing somebody else's animal. So our hero, in order to escape the police, he jumped into the river and drowned. His ghost, it seems still haunts the river. He can heard heard dancing the waltz with his pretty Matilda.

Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda
You'll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me
And his ghost may be heard as you pass by that billabong
You'll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me.

That speaks so much about the level of dedication and pride shown by tourist guides in Australia (or at least Daryll of the Grayline). At the end of the journey, he quipped, "I have left some feedback forms for you to fill and my name is Daryll spelt with a double 'L', just like in the word excellent!"
A 10 hour journey well spent...

 

Southern Cross station after dark

Near Etihad Stadium

Overgrowth down under

Rememberance Park St Kilda Rd

Oz contribution in Emergency

@ Spencer St

Over Yarra River

The conquest - E&O Hotel

E & O Hotel

With the euphoric atmosphere of last week's Anniversary party still lingering in the air, let me just jot down a thing or two about the venue while it is still fresh on my mind.

E & O Hotel was officiated in 1885 with the merging of Eastern Hotel and Oriental Hotels, both built by Armenian Sarkies brothers.The brothers were also instrumental in the establishment of many hotels in the region including Raffles Hotel in Singapore. E & O boasts of being host to many notables celebrities like Rudyard Kipling (author of Jungle Book), Douglas Fairbank (silent movie star of the 30s), Charlie Chaplin (needs no introduction), Sun Yat-sen (Founding Father of Modern China) and many more.

In 1893, during a 10year celebratory luncheon, Sir Frank Swettenham (then the Resident General of Malay States) cracked a joke about the Sarkies brothers. ‘A little boy was asked by his teacher in Perak who the Sakais were, and replied that they were people who kept hotels.’ 

(The Sakais are one of the indigenous races of Malaysia.)

Just like the 'Spotted Dogs' in Kuala Lumpur (Royal Selangor Club), E & O was the favourite rendezvous for the ruling elites and their apple polishers (a.k.a. ball carriers) - i.e. locals with unabated zest to rub shoulders and hang out with their colonial masters and probably lived off their crumbs - while the rest of Malaya and the subjects of the Empire were busy living a living hell for self-rule!

When I was about 10 or so, my maternal grandfather was working as a driver in a mansion near this prestigious hotel. I remember my sisters and I were looking from outside the fence like refugee children at the merrymaking hotel guests during one Christmas eve. Funny how after 2 scores of years later, we are all on the inside of the fence in a merrymaking mood ourselves!

The 50th Wedding Anniversary is a symbolic one. It is an announcement that the descendants of maids, labourers and drivers have indeed come a long way since their great ancestors decided to take that tug boat to Malaya in search of better lives...

Arshak, Tigran, Aviet Sarkies (Clockwise from top)
Iranians of Armenian ethnicity

Congratulations & Celebrations!*

Parents’ 50th Wedding anniversary and Amma’s 70th surprise birthday party (Powerpoint presentation)

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!

Mr & Mrs Shamuganathan
1960

Just in case you are wondering what this function is all about, we are gathered today to share the joy of celebrating my parents' 50th wedding anniversary, and at the same time to my mother’s surprise 70th birthday party. Firstly, I am so happy that many friends from near and far (as far as Belgium) have obliged to partake in this meaningful event. Thanks to Anneka and David for joining us. Once they heard of this function, they immediately changed their plans to visit Cambodia, paid the fines for changing their ticket and decided to join us in this surprise function. Many words of thanks to Dato M.S. Murthi who was equally if not more excited than all of us in making this function a reality. To hold a surprise function like this is no easy feat, one has to do many things under cover and in this aspect, my two sisters (Sheila and Latha) and her family members have made use of their artistic skill of conman ship to perfection. All the while, until my parents entered the hall, she was under the impression that she was attending a simple dinner at a posh place but did not suspect such a big function. In this process, Latha and Sheila managed to convince my mother to buy a new saree, stitch her blouse, groom herself for the occasion and bring her to the function. The last part would not have been difficult, as Amma likes going out. I sure that with her inquisitive instincts, I am sure my sisters would have bluffed all the way to get her here. If only Amma were given the opportunity, she would have been a lawyer like her brother! This morning we actually thought that our cover had been blown open when Appa's old buddy Mr David Morris actually sent a bouquet of flowers to my parents. Mr Morris is Appa's colleague in Mercantile Bank. They not only shares the same birth date but the same birth year too -22nd June 1938!

On my part, I managed to sneak out some old photographs during my last visit to Penang. And here we are…

Beach St, Penang.

Many years ago when my son was just a toddler, after seeing me enjoy many old Black and White Tamil and English movies in my spare time, he asked me, “Appa, when you were growing up, was everything around was in black and white?” Not understanding his question, I asked him, “What do you mean?” He said, “I see that in those old movies that you watch, the trees, the hill, the peoples’ clothes and all are black and white, did they not colour around you?” Smiling, I told him that they did not have the technology. Probably, if he were to ask the same question today, I would reply, “Things in life are neither black nor white but rather in shades of grey!”

At 18 years

This is how Penang used to look when my parents grew up in the pre-Merdeka days when you could buy things for half a cent, going to Prai then meant a sampan across the channel and politicians were honest. You can why they use to call it a true paradise, with a peaceful esplanade with no hawkers and Batu Ferringhi with no hotels and apartments.

Appa's office (L)
 Son! Look they have colour 

Mr Munusamy’s first born son, Shamuganathan was born on 22nd June 1938 in Butterworth. He grew up in a family of 16 in Sg Pinang, Penang to a fine young man. 16 seem to be a significant number to my father as at the age of 16, due to parental pressure, he started his employment as a peon in then Mercantile Bank in Beach Street, Penang. Day in and day out, he went to work at the same premises till he retired at the age of 56, after 30 years of working in the same place with hardly any medical leave. By the time he retired, the owner of the bank was HSBC.

A 9 year old Amma

Rada Mani Devi was born as the third daughter to Mr and Mrs S.M. Muthu. Just for record, nobody actually knows when my mother’s birthday is. As you know, people those days give very little importance to these things. If you follow their respective I.C. (Identity Card), you will notice that my mother and my maternal uncle (her biological brother) were born just 2 months apart! Somehow through logical deduction, backdating and correlating to somebody’s funeral and probably Christmas, it was finally calculated to 27th December 1940.

Amma & best friend, Malathi

Just like when my cousin Ganesh organised a surprise birthday for his mother (Auntie Indra), no doubt she was surprised with the arrangement, he was equally surprised when his mother said, "But I am 71!"
Amma grew up in many houses around Penang and Ipoh with her 3 other siblings – Saroja, Indra and Murthi. At the age of 16, her supporting pillar, her mother succumbed to breast cancer and she and her siblings had to fend for themselves.

Amma , nephew & nieceA

Appa and friends: Life in a young newly independent nation of Malaya. Notice how simple play things were those days: bare feed children in the background fooling around a broken tricyle! If only some important agreement were signed before this photo shot, this phto would have been a classic!

Unlike the 1970 

Love Story, this one

stood the test of time

Soon after this, I suppose, she must have met this dashing young man from Sungai Pinang and love must blossomed. The person instrumental in their union was their mutual friend, Veeramani has unfortunately passed on.

At Amma's mum's house in B'worth

The love story blossomed to a matrimonial knot on 27th August 1960.

The Big Day 27.8.1960

Just married. Note the picture of Marilyn Munroe 

or Jayne Mansfield in the background.

Soon after marriage, they moved in to a new neighbourhood to bring up their newborn child (that's me!) in Brown Gardens in Gelugor in around 1964. And many fond memories were still linger...like this birthday party celebration in 1967.

In keeping with Penang’s boria spirit, here you can have two children in the same birthday party with the same outfit. Girls, how would you feel if you are the birthday girl and your friend turns up with the very same dress!

Or will you still like him or try to subtly strangle him like seen in this picture?

Rifle Range Flats

                                


The other boy (Gobi) and I went to the same secondary school and later lost touch. Thanks to Facebook, I managed to chat with him.

Between 1970 and 1982, Rifle Range Flats was home to all of us and holds many pleasant childhood memories to me and my sisters. Personally, we hated the place but it helped us to be tough, kiasu and keep our priorities intact.

Latha's 3rd birthday

These are the views that we use to see, day in day out!
In 1972, we celebrated Latha’s 3rd birthday. Seen here in the centre with her colourful cake baked in our new oven! Guess the cake must have looked so pretty that everybody decided to pose in front of it before cutting!

(1974, on a moonlit night?) Since digital photography had not been developed in 70s, each time you wanted immortalize your good looks in print, you run to your friendly photo studio. Kok Wah studio in Jalan Dato Kramat was particularly popular.

Happy families of mid 70s

During long school holidays, like a pilgrimage, Auntie Indra's family (both Shans) would congregate in Rifle Range and they would all sardine pack themselves into this tiny one room bedroom flat. Everyone would be chit-chatting till the wee hours of the morning. The youngsters would be busy their pranks! The end of the visit would be marked with the mandatory crying and the general tone would be sombre for the next few days.

1990

Here Amma is seen posing with her beloved sister, Indra at the compound of their beloved brother's mansion in Klang in the 1990s.In 1990, the first wedding in the family happened. After 3 decades of married life, my parents had a new role to play- Paati (grandma). Here seen with grandchildren... As the clan gets bigger and bigger...

Amma, Divya, Tania.

With Ashvirni and Agshay

Chagani's 16th day ceremony

Now we are left with the next generation of people of the Sham clan. These are the people who would hold the reign of the fort and probably organise surprise parties like these in the future (hint, hint).

In the pre-Independence era when the main mean of transportation was by sea, E&O Hotel, which was an exclusive hotel frequented by ruling aristocrats, played an important role in disseminating information to the community. Once a month when the ship from England had docked at the Penang Pier, its flag would be hoist at full mast announcing that their supplies are stocked to the brim and it is party time at the E&O. In the same vein, we, the children of Mr & Mrs Shamuganathan would like to wish our parents a very happy golden anniversary and a happy 70th birthday wishes to Amma. Thank you for all the things that you have done for us. No one could have done it better.

My brother in law, Chandra, and my sisters have organised an array of musical extravaganza for your listening and visual pleasure. Hope everyone has a good and we return with only fond memories.

Thank you...