Do you look back, recall, reminisce, and remember? I do. Though I don’t look back as often as I should, reminisce as much as I would like to… I do remember a lot of things. I remember songs and lyrics, I remember movies and scenes, I remember events and emotions. And I do remember names and faces. In fact, since my memory capacity has everything to do with my facts, I remember names mostly. Some more vivid than others. And some longer than the rest.
But the name Koo (or is it Khoo?) Chong Teng always brings me back to that chubby smiley face. Everytime he smiled, his eyes would form two straight horizontal lines. I always imagined, with that baby-face he must’ve smelled like Johnson&Johnson baby powder too. He was, by the way, one of the Bintang RTM contestants in the same year with Rohana Jalil if I am not mistaken. Since I don’t particularly like the type of voice that vibrates too much, Koo Chong Teng was never my favorite. (Ruhil Amani’s voice is worse!) But Koo Chong Teng’s Melaka-speak made me sit up straight in front of the TV. Loved it!
And then there was Ferri Anugerah Makmur, of course. I still hum his “Bila Janji Itu Mungkir” number to this day. And that, mind you, has nothing to do with his invitation last month for us to work together on a charity project. Well, like Koo Chong Teng’s, I found Ferri Anugerah Makmur’s smiles to be memorable – for lack of a better word. But the name itself, has been memorable. Oh darn! I forgot to ask him the burning question my friends have been bugging my mind with. That is, if he got teased when he was a boy, especially by people from Penang. With a unique name like his, I am pretty sure patience would be his virtue, or rather his anugerah (gift), if he did get teased. But somehow, I always look at his name as the English fairy rather than the Malay feri.
Budiman Perwira Negara bin Husin. Yes, it is a real name. Not in a short story in the Mastika or Sarina magazines in the 70’s and 80’s, or the likes. This form-four boy was a junior to a form-five me at Abu Bakar School Temerloh Pahang when I did my (equivalent to) grade 10 and 11 back then. A good boy, he was. Always a leader, and always a friendly and an approachable leader.
I first heard of the name Budiman Perwira Negara in my Biology class, mentioned by my Biology teacher whose name was Noor Sinaran Chaya binti Dolkefflee. She believed her father had mispelled the Chaya part and meant it to be Cahaya instead. (I just Googled the name, and what d’ya know… Puan Noor Sinaran Chaya has her own tuition center now.) And uh, Puan Noor Sinaran Chaya was also the one who found a ‘secret admirer’ letter I wrote to Mr. Armia, accidentally slipped into my Biology workbook which I never intended to mail! Auwww I kantoi big time!
Roslan Burok is another name I will never forget. If you (the 50’s, 60’s and early 70’s babies) noticed, this name always appeared the longest on the credit roll Drama Minggu Ini slot Sunday evenings. That was because he was the producer of many of those drama episodes. Roslan Burok was the talented culprit who made us down our dinner after the sundown prayers as if the kitchen were closing or tornado were coming! I never understood how it worked back then, but from my observation, whenever ND Lala was on the slot, Roslan Burok’s name never failed to be there. Like the one that featured ND Lala and Haslina Kamsan in Pisang Udang, ND Lala and Marlia Musa in Nasinya Tumpah. I am not sure about ND Lala and Liza Abdullah in Penghujung Rindu, though. Anyway, I remember wondering how Roslan Burok looked like. I never saw any picture. Not then, not ever. Or shall I say with some hope, not yet?
This next name, by now is mentioned back-to-back as it also came up in my previous post for her sunglasses-hair-band. The name is none other than Noorkumalasari. Is it really her given name? It surely isn’t my given name, although I was going to give myself the same name when I was five. I even went to the extent of striking out “Enida” on the back of my portable green blackboard my dad bought me for kindergarten. It was a good thing that no permanent marker pen was left laying around in that ‘745-U-Lorong-Dua-Kampung-Jana-Baru’ house back then. My Mom made me wash off the name Noorkumalasari which I wrote with a yellow chalk, and to add salt to my wound, she had to come up with a spin-off to Noorkumalasari’s name: Noorkumalassekali! I cried my eyeballs out and it felt like Jiman died his 5th death!
I moved on. It took me a while, but I moved on. From kindergarten to primary school. And from Noorkumalasari to other new names like Asmahani Hussein, Gaya Zakry, Marilu Henner, Mia Farrow, Charlie’s Angels (which I first thought was a woman’s name – I wasn’t aware of the apostrophe-‘s’), Marrisa Haque, Lydia Kandou, Sharmila Tagore, and many more before I got to know Parveen Babi… who made me want to keep my name. So, Enida it was. Enida it has been and Enida it is to this day.
I moved on to the name Lawrence. This name always flashes one specific picture of the very first Lawrence I ever got to know in my life. He was a janitor at the school I went to between the age of 6 and 12, that is All Saints’ School in Kamunting, Taiping, Perak. I never understood what his position was. Heck, I didn’t understand much back then. Like why we were given food at school (just bring your empty Tupperware container) and why it never tasted better than my Mom’s cooking. I gave it up to a friend after a month. But all I knew about Lawrence was that he was the man to chase after if we needed balls, hoola hoops, benches, garbage bins, and even a bicycle pump if needs be. And of course you hunt him down all around the school, sent by your class teacher, if kids berak in their pants and left some free fertilizer to be scooped by Lawrence. Lawrence must have saved a lot of school’s money allocated for fertilizers.
And now that I have moved on and am waaaayyyyy away from school years, I have come to realize that the only other Lawrence I got to know after Lawrence the Janitor of All Saints would be the Lawrence of Arabia. I know no other Lawrence’s ever since. I doubt there would be any Lawrence of Siberia waiting for me out here either.
And then, no doubt, there are names that tell their stories for some other days like… (in alphabetical order):
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Agnes Puyaoan
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Appukuthi
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Azman Miskon
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Dhoruri Razali
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Diana Nasution
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Ellibin Gentingon
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Emilia Contessa
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Ikhwan Nazli Ibrahim
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Jason Rutherford
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Julio Alzate
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Kanang Anak Langkau
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Khairuddin Ayip
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Khoo Sin Nya
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Lai Voon Ping
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Maskuri
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Peter Dicky Lee
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Ramblan
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Sasising @Jasrim Matahil
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Shu Kar Weng
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Suri Azura Jamaluddin
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Tally Savalas
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Tan Choong Wing
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Vasantharajan
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Wim Blauw
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Yusniza Abdullah
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Zul Zamri Zamanhuri
I know you have names that have stuck with you as well over the years. Names that have traveled with you far east, farther east and then west, with or without a compass. Names that have been the ones you keep Googling, wondering if you have soared higher or stooped lower than. And names which have brought smiles to the thoughts of your innocence that you’ve named silliness. You are not that innocent anymore. So don’t be silly! Reminisce today.
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Nama ‘Intan’ itu, selain tidak didaftarkan di dalam sijil kelahiran saya, sudah lama saya khaskan kepada keluarga dan sahabat-sahabat terdekat yang mengenali saya sejak zaman saya berhingus hijau muda dahulu. Dan jika saudara-saudari memanggil saya ‘Intan’, saya tetap menyahut dan tersenyum. Jika Sultan Perak yang memanggil, saya pastilah menjawab, “Ampun tuanku beribu-ribu lemon ampun. Sembah patik harap di ampun. Patik di sini, Tuanku.” Jika Pok Ngoh Soh yang memanggil ‘Itei’, cepat-cepat saya menjawab, “Yo Pok Ngoh, aghi gelaak itei pekaak ni tok napok ko?”
Questa è Enida 