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Archive for the ‘Nostalgia’ Category

No More

Long has it been since I had my last bite of jackfruit. Very long. I was probably only Kitreena’s age then. But it was all because of merajuk. I wanted the last piece. That was all that was left anyway. And I hadn’t had any. I was busy doing dishes. Yes, I started doing dishes years before I turned eight.

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So, I wanted that last piece of jackfruit. But all that was returned to the kitchen was an empty plate. I cried! I cried like it was going to be the last jackfruit ever existed on earth. Ever. Berhabis hati saya merajuk. And I never touched any jackfruit ever since.

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It must have been almost 30 years. Until tonight. Tonight, December 18th, 2010, a Saturday night, I just had my first bite of jackfruit after all these years.

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I have changed.

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And I… merajuk no more.

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Tak Bersaree Lagi

Kehadapan Anand yang diingati,
Semoga warkahku ini tiba di pangkuanmu dengan selamatnya. Dan semoga kau tahu, bahawa dirimu itu tak pernah lepas dari ingatanku. Susah senang, senyum dan tangisku kau selalu ada… dulu disisiku, kini dihatiku.

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Anand ku sayang,
Setiap kali aku terpandang sepasang saree itu, hatiku pilu. Sejak kau pergi aku berdendam pada Tuhan. Dan hari ini ketika aku melintas di ruang legar bangunan itu, pilu bertukar rindu. Di situ kali terakhir kau mengucup bindi di dahiku.

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Buat pertama kalinya setelah lama kau tiada, tahun ini ku kuatkan hati  mencari ganti saree turquoise yang telah lama lusuh itu. Dan aku tahu, yang akan tetap terang di malam Diwali nanti adalah cahaya kasihmu. Memadam dendamku. Tuhan lebih sayang padamu.

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Tak ada lagi sindoor tilak di dahiku tanpamu, Anand ku.

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Dengan hati pilu,
Enidashwary

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Jangan Ku Digoda

There is this song from my childhood that I can still recall. While I am not particularly sure of the original singer, I remember the unidentical twin sisters with long curly hair who called themselves The Queen or The Queens singing it with their beautiful manja voice. Well, I like anything and everything manja. So this song came naturally to my senses. Still does. Anybody knows this song?

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Jangan ku digoda
jangan aku kau rayu
bebaskan hatiku ini
dari rasa cintamu

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Berilah ku waktu
mencari kepastian
jalan yang penuh berliku
tak seindah impian

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Nanti di suatu masa
aku kembali sayang
ke pangkuanmu

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Akan aku dirikan
istana cinta murni
kasih dan sayang

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Janganlah kau ragu
jangan berhati bimbang
demi kebahagianmu
izinkan ku berjuang

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Siapa Pernah?

Siapa pernah dengar lagu ini?

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I know for sure the woman in black in the picture memorizes the song.

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Cinta Lama

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Bila memandang gambarmu
hatiku rasa terharu
senyuman dibibirmu
menawan kalbu

Mengapa hanya bayangan
tak sanggup berjauhan
andainya kita bersua
betapa mesra…

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You, Me and Yesterday

Among the sentences that have been playing in my mind of late, the one that has stabbed me right in the middle of my temporal lobes, cutting me clean between the heart, the mind and the soul is…

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“Wajahmu menikam memperlahankan waktu…”

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Memperlahankan waktu?
Hmmmm… no wonder I’ve been feeling like I have been sent back to yesterday. And you’re not there.

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If only I could kiss that frown away…

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This Kiss

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It was the best kiss I have ever had in my life.

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I was blessedly kissed by the most beautiful sunset.
Driving to Manjung, in the late afternoon rain.
A wet kiss it was.

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And I will be longing for this kiss again comes May.
Come what may.

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The picture was taken with my RAZR2V9. It is a far cry from the best quality in soft copy. But I have a hard copy with higher resolution printed in my mind.

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Jolok

Buah cempedak di luar pagar,
ambil galah tolong jolokkan;
Sayalah budak baru belajar,
kalau salah tolong tunjukkan.

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Leng Chai’s pantun on his Facebook status yesterday sure reminded me of a girl in my class when I was in Grade 5 at the All Saints’ School in Taiping. I can’t recall her name, but I remember her brother. Her kind-hearted brother whom I never met.

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Our class teacher, Miss Khoo Sin Nya, in the first few days of class that year was asking the whole class one by one of our father’s occupation. For her record, of course. And this girl, a painfully quiet girl, was almost in tears when it was her turn. Miss Khoo, not known for her sweet temper, lost her not so sweet temper when this girl (let’s just name her Bibah, okay), when Bibah would not say a word.

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We, the rest of the class, were waiting confusingly patiently that it was probably the quietest the class had ever been. The suspense was just too much to bear. I had to close my eyes for the fear that Miss Khoo would bang her table with the giant blackboard ruler (with a handle).  Though I knew I wouldn’t jump and start melatah like my Toksu… I was very very nervous on behalf of Bibah.

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For thunder’s sake, just answer the teacher lah Bibah, begged I, in the deafening silence. The question was, ‘What does your father do?’ What was so hard about it? I dared to bet that everyone was dying to know what Bibah’s father’s occupation was. And what was so secret about it. Bibah’s old man could not have been a spy, could he? After all, this was Taiping in the early 80’s. Or was he a… errrr, hmmmm. Eeeeshhhhh! Enida! Don’t! I slapped myself on one cheek.

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Silence.

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Suspense.

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And then…

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Jolok buah.

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More silence.

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I remember the faces looking at Miss Khoo, to find Miss Khoo looking back at Bibah. And she was looking at us all in one swipe.

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Jolok buah? Apa buah? Buah klapa ka, buah nangkak ka, buah dooriyen ka?

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Buah kelapa sawit, teacher,” Bibah was trembling in what sounded like a relief that she was understood. And she wasn’t laughed at.

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Cakap laaa baba you Peladaaaanggg! Aiiiyohhh! Itu pun tatau ka?

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For the first time I saw Bibah’s sweet smile. I think the whole class smiled with her.

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Tapi…

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Bibah’s tapi sent the whole class into another swing of nerve-wrecking silence. Miss Khoo looked up from her record book and looked at Bibah with the biggest eyes possible probably was ready to attack Bibah for not telling the whole truth.

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Tapi saya duduk dengan abang saya, baba saya sudah tua. Abang saya askar, teacher. Dia tolong jaga saya dengan adik-adik saya. Mak saya dah meninggal.

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Bibah didn’t cry.

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But I know someone who did.

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Glossary for Neil and Jimmy:

jolok = poke

buah = fruit

apa = what

klapa/kelapa = coconut

nangka = jackfruit

dooriyen = durian

kelapa sawit = palm

cakap = say/tell

peladang = farmer

tapi = but

Tapi saya duduk dengan abang saya, baba saya sudah tua. Abang saya askar, teacher. Dia tolong jaga saya dengan adik-adik saya. Mak saya dah meninggal.” =

“But I live with my elder brother, my father is old. My brother serves in the army, teacher. He (brother) helps taking care of me and my younger siblings. My mother has passed away.”

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Of Curse

On the way home from Edrick’s school the other day, the day I cursed the sheet, I was reminded of a neighbor from my childhood. An elderly lady who was very passionate about her grandchildren and her ayam itik Tokwi. Her name is Toksu, though, not Tokwi.

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Anyway, Toksu was the melatah type. Anytime anything fell, or popped, or banged, or snapped… she would jump and melatah. Her words were easy to understand. Profanity is always easy to understand. But she never sounded profane for some reason. She was always that cute granny to me. But one particular latah of hers that I remember so well was when her ‘kayu sokong ampaian’ in a Y shape fell over and her ampaian was all on the ground:

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“Oh juboq alam!”

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Ooookay… well, I know what juboq is. To those who are not familiar with the dialect from the northern states, juboq’s standard bahasa term is jubur. And jubur is anus, simply put.

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I immediately asked me Mommy, “Miii, juboq alam tu kat mana?” as I was imagining the Antarctica. My Mom never entertained silly questions no matter how intelligent they could sound and no matter how curious I was. So her response was just, “Hissssshhhhh! Kalau dah jubur tu kat mana lah lagi?”

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Huh? My thought went, “Wow! That big? Sebesar alam?”

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And just as I thought I could not imagine anything ever more explicit than the earth having a huge juboq, a thunder drummed! Rain was coming. Toksu jumped higher than the alam and cursed…

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“Oh juboq pak hang terkoyak!”

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To this day, every time a lightning strikes, or guruh berdentum… I get scared.

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Voice Over

Yay for me! I am singing again. Yay! But I am not going to talk, nor am I going to write about it very often. I am just going to add the mp3 links in the navigation bar on the right, marked In Her Voice.

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The latest addition is Enida-Hati Yang Luka, an Indonesian song I truly enjoyed singing in the 80’s.

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