Once upon a zen in Kanazawa

The first time I hit the Samurai-land, I instantly realized that if I don't find the right partner to talk to, I will become a mute traveler throughout the duration of my visit as these Samurai descendants don't speak much in other languages apart from their own. As an avid Manga fan, I should have perfected my broken Nihongo or at least memorized few kanji way before I started to fall in love with sushi.

Japanese as you may know is a very proud nation. They only eat sushi with wasabi and not with any other fancy Western condiments or even our popular shrimp past, belacan. That shows how proud they are with their food, their language or even Doraemon and other monster-kicking superheroes, of which symbolized their ingenuity and creativity.

After slightly seven blissful flight hours from KLIA to Tokyo and another one hour by a domestic flight, I touched down at Kanazawa. This town is located on the West coast of Honshu. This time around, the purpose of my visit to this captivating city was to nurture my ever shrinking brain with as much academic input as possible plus another secret rendezvous with my significant half.

Actually, I almost took a ride on the famous Japanese high-speed bullet train, shinkansen just to experience this warp-speed machine and looking forward at the same time to have another orgasmic ride that blown one into oblivion. The prospect of taking the wrong train though and being blasted into another unfamiliar Yakuza territory really put me off the idea. Mount Fuji, the initial motivation for embarking onto the train was heavily clouded and obscured with heavenly mist, so I thought it was not worth the effort, except for that orgasmic part.

Nonetheless, all disappointment and frustration of not seeing the majestic mountain was soon evaporated. After being greeted by staffs in quaint Japanese costumed uniform and our arrival heralded by few polite bows and a plate of hot misty towel to wipe our our oily face diminished any inferiority complex I may have earlier. What can I say? When the wicked die they go to hell, but the righteous are assure a reservation at the nice hotel of Nikko Kanazawa. Splendid services all around. The staffs were not only polite but also thoughtful. Like any other international star though, the 'Rainbow or Ruby channel' was just a click away. You just have to tame the demon inside.

As usual, food could become a big issue while abroad and Kanazawa posed the same problem with no exception. Smoked unagi and plain sticky rice became my staple food. One thing I found very useful was the abundance of vending machine that sold almost everything unthinkable from disposable underwear, designer sunglasses, hot Japanese date for a day (I mean the magazine). You name it. Everything that comes under the Heaven and Earth you can pull out from that wonderful machine.

Kanazawa was among the few city that was spared during World War 2 air raid. There were many Edo period architectures still standing and well preserved. Such excellent examples are the old castle town, Samurai district and Geisha entertainment district. Kanazawa tourism offers many excellent tourist activities in the city which includes some fine museums, the 15th Century 'Ninja temple of Myoryu-ji with its interior secrets and trickery and the labyrinthine bustle of Omicho market - a great place to eat seafood. But Kanazawa unchallenged attraction is the sublime Kenrokuen garden.

When the joys of blissful life become overwhelming sedated in Kanazawa, a short stopover in Tokyo to sample metropolitan lifestyle and the vibrant Shinjuku area and digital haven in Akihabara before coming back to my routine life was a perfect solution. But the night in Tokyo was never quiet. That night my restful sleep was disrupted by a continuous and persistent thumping coming from the room on the above floor. It lasted at least for 30 odd minutes. My theory, Japanese is really a hardworking nation and they work throughout the night with Bushido spirit in mind. But when similar mysterious noise came from the adjacent room echoed the same tune, I started to believe that some early morning raw sushi-eating session was seriously in action. My significant half and me just looked at each other in our blanket and grinned like silly youngsters. Still I really wanted to believe the former theory.

Kenrokuen is known as one of the three beautiful garden in Japan. It is called Kenrokuen because it combines the six attributes (kenroku) that a garden should have: spaciousness, seclusion, human ingenuity, antiquity, water and panoramic view. Fantastically calming and perfectly balanced.

Kanazawa castle has been the residential castle of the Maeda family since Toshiie Maeda entered the castle in 1583. In 1881 all the castle walls apart from Ishikawa-mon gate, were destroyed by fire. Three structured Hishi-yagura, Gojikken-nagaya and Hashizumemon Tsuzuki-yagura were restored. They are the largest scale wooden castle structures built since he Meiji era in Japan.

The house of Nomura family, the ancient site of a Samurai house. The garden was exquisitely beautiful and skillfully laid out. There is a unique, more than four hundred-year-old myrica tree which is said hard to plan here in the Hokuriku district.

Higashi Chaya district or Geisha district. Narrow winding streets and latticed windows. Higayashiyama is the heart of old Kanazawa. While here I managed to catch a glimpse of geisha hurriedly preparing herself to work. Too mesmerized, I could not capture the photo with my camera. Here you can also drink Japanese tea added with pure gold leaf. I didn't have gut to try.

My hot date for that evening, my lovely geisha in front of a section of Kanazawa castle.

Omicho market is the kitchen of Kanazawa. This popular downtown market serves varieties of food in gastronomical proportion. I was quite tempted to jump into one of the many nice looking sushi bars in this market and dipped into suhi and sashimi eating frenzy.

The fish on the stalls looked all very tempting and many weird looking sea creatures were also on display. Apart from unagi, this smoked fish was also becoming our staple diet.

At last our prayer to satisfy our taste bud with some local cuisine was answered. Toward the end of the visit we met our local students at the University and for the first time in my life chicken curry tasted so good.

Part of Kabuki/Noh theatre to end our trip to Kanazawa. But I am quite sure, our sleepless night in Tokyo has nothing to do with this heart-thumping performance.

Taman Tasik Taiping in B&W

Sometimes, it is better to see things in just black and white.

...as life offers us with only two choices....

Once I was a tiger!

In the pitch of darkness I started to transform myself and invoked all the inner senses in anticipation for any incoming surprises. My black attire blended well with the surrounding. When the timing was right and upon instruction by my master, I started to jump...punched...kicked and then I roared. My other colleagues did the same. Sometimes I punched them and the other time they kicked me back, in retaliation. But most of the time I received more kicks than landing a good punch onto my opponents. The bruises could last for weeks and the scars never healed in my memory.

That was my 'painful' remembrance during my initial year as 'anak Gayong'. The year was 1987 and I just started my new life chapter in the ivory tower surrounded by lifeless concrete jungles. I was hundred miles away from my beloved family for the first time. The year was a restless one for me and puberty hormones was already started to kick in. At that time, my teropong iman was still in its infancy and not well developed to take care of the hormonal imbalance.

I then got myself involved with Pertubuhan Silat Seni Gayong Malaysia (PSSGM) at my first alma mater, UKM. There was no special reason for choosing this martial art practice but merely a gut feeling. There were few other martial art clubs as well, but for me PSSGM somehow made me feel and look cool!

From there, I became a very devoted disciple, unraveling the mystery of Gayong. Rain of shine, there I was with my other anak Gayong in the open field and enclosed building to practise this ancient form of art. One of the reasons why I felt so obliged and dedicated was because of my first Gayong master, Cikgu Selamat. He came twice a week to Bangi all the way from Kelang on his really old kapcai just to make sure we got to learn all the bunga, buah, kunci and other syllabus. Despite many punctured tyres in the Federal highway in the middle of the night, that never become his stumbling block to roar together with us, his faithful disciples. His sheer spirit and utmost devotion really touched me. He later became my inspiration to move on and continue my quest to become an invulnerable.

Year in, year out - masters come and go. the late Cikgu Mat Khir, Pak Ngah and Cikgu Nazri were among the many that came to teach at our gelanggang. Occasionally, we went to visit other gelanggang and met other masters to learn special Gayong moves and tricks. They had their own touch and styles, but still the first one really made a lasting impression. I lost touch with the group after I left my alma mater and the tiger remained tamed inside. But the demon never died.

Last weekend however, I almost awakened the sleeping tiger in me and brought back all the wonderful memories in Gayong. This time though, the memory became a painful one. After so many years, I visited Pusat Latihan Tertinggi PSSGM Air Kuning, Taiping and the sight before me was really a shocking reality. My heart broke to see the sorry state of the place. Once the place where so many Gayong warriors practised and received personal attention from the founder himself, the late Dato' Meor Abdul Rahman, is now a dilapidated ruin waiting to bit the dust. The place is now ghostly eerie and almost unrecognizable to me. It was abandoned and lying vulnerable for a new development. A legacy is there no more.

It was believed anak Gayong numbered more than 100 000 and scattered roaming the globe. We should all weep and cry for being so helpless. The least is feeling ashamed to ourselves. Tiger is now becoming an endangered species. Is the tiger going to roar one more time? I keep asking myself. Only time will tell.

Jangan ditepuk susu di dulang,
Anak harimau tak dapat menyusu,
Janganglah pecah rahsia hulubalang,
Nanti harimau hilang kuku.

Jikalau ada dulang di tangan,
Jangan biar jatuh terhempas,
Jikalau ada senjata di tangan,
Jangan biar orang rampas.

Pecah gayung di dalam dulang,
Dulang hayut di lautan tujuh,
Pecah Gayong perpecahan sayang,
Di satu masa balik berpadu teguh.

Biduk berlalu kiambang bertaut,
Kata bersahut Gayong bersambut.

Anak Gayong congregated on the beach for Khatam keris. This was during my final year in UKM. This khatam keris was the last attended by Allahyarham Dato' Meor Abdul Rahman. This orthodox silat chapter took place at Port Dickson on the 23rd. June 1991. It was a symbolic gesture of a naga, a mystical creature pulang ke laut.

One of our activities was performing a silat demonstration during special ceremonies for the KAMSIS. This was my first and I was very nervous for missing several steps. Harimau mengambur mangsa - I was not the one leaping high in the air, but a mere junior crouching waiting for my turn.

A knife duel in front of PUSANEKA, perfomed flawlessly as this was my senior year in my alma mater and also becoming one of the sifus in the gelanggang.

One of the test for our obedience, courage and skills - A fearless tiger never hesitates and accepts all challenges

In one of my visits to Air Kuning to undergo several initiation processes and mandi minyak. Allahyarham Dato' knocked and broke a bamboo on my head. His son cikgu Sazali (Harimau berantai/Singa Malaya) was the one wearing a brown shirt nearby.

The last standing legacy (as of 2nd. May 2010). These were what left of the once a prestigious place for Gayong warriors to equip oneself with intimate knowledge of Gayong vast secrets. For the mortals, we have to accept the fact that nothing last forever.

Auwwwww...No pun intended.

Have you ever wonder of late why there is a sudden surge of a new human breed among our population? I do. Neither this human extraordinaire is a newly developed species nor a mutant from the underworld. It is neither a chimeric of origin nor a product of laboratories blunder, but a silent evolution of our genetic makeover in direct respond to the ever changing environment and surrounding condition. In the One-Nation world this new insurgence of the one-of-its-kind inhabitant is popularly known as 'mat lembut'. Though lembut is sometimes a preferred quality (as in soft skin, soft spoken counter attendant, soft and comfy airport limo etc.) but in this case it tells a totally different story.

This abnormal phenomenon is quite a concern as the prevalence has become alarmingly high each years. I remember once while visiting my Alma mater last year for some academic endeavor. I was really taken aback by what I saw. I was greeted by the sweetest voice in the lecture hall by almost all graduates - boys and girls alike. I am not complaining about the girls as they are supposed to be sweet and gentle, but boys put up their hands for questions and attention just like a ballad dancer performing one of his/her masterpieces. On another very important occasion, I even got confused, fumbling nervously with the zipper when I visited a lavatory and almost step out apologizing profoundly for my mistake as I though I was trespassing in an uncharted territory. From time to time while having my quiet moment I heard a very familiar feminine giggle echoing from the next cubicles. But I was in the gentle-man lavatory alright sir.

Audience...Please! It is not my intention to belittle or make a mock out of this unique being. They are created equally important and with special purposes only God knows. But imagine if our future forces - our arm forces for example. What will happen if these forces of muscular entity one day penetrated and swarmed by these generation. Can we be honest for a moment. It is a joke of the century and outrageously going to be haywire. The classic Malay adage of 'bukan salah ibu mengandung' applies here though. The reason I will reveal later.

I have been cracking my wilting pinnacle and tickling my peanut-size brain on this issue for a while, searching for some light to satisfy my curiosity. We are talking about our future generation here. The generation that will spearhead our nation into the next challenging millennium. The image of our country is also at stake.

After months of preposterously looking for the elusive clue, I finally found what I thought to be the answer to this pertinent issue. The first clue comes from none other than a distant creature living in the river. Male fish in the UK river started to change their sexual appetite and become err....err....ah yes... lesbian. I am not making this up, seriously. This scary event took place somewhere in the UK (not Ulu Kelang) rivers and this interesting study was carried out by several UK universities and well published in a journal (The Journal of Environmental Health Perspectives). They singled out the culprit to this freaking phenomena was polluted underground water. The same source of water that we consumed daily.

Well, if you may ask what potent substance that had caused this unimaginable harm to that poor fella and single handedly changed the original assortment of human genome? The answer are female sex hormones (estrogens) and chemicals that mimic estrogen (which inhibit the function of the male hormones (testosterone) reducing fertility and propagating feminization in male). Scientists who conducted the research blame this particularly powerful form of estrogen in urine from the contraceptive pill, which is flushed through sewage works into the rivers and slowly sip through the female reproductive system. Over a long period of time, this exogenous hormone slowly alter the hormones balance while still in the fetus form.

So there you are ladies. For those who are currently using and actively engaging in the sperm-killing mission, Achtung bitte! When nature's call, a more thoughtful consideration from the fairer sex is very much appreciated. For the sake of our nation ladies, don't just simply do it anywhere and any place you like please.

Now at this point, I shall put down my pen, sit back and enjoy watching my all time favorite war movie of Shaving the Ryan's Private, while at the same time anxiously waiting for my female/male-feminist counterpart shave me bald.

Auwwww no...tak rela I. No pun intended sir.

Pok kor - a stranger in a strange land

There was much talk in the Rubberland scientific community for the last few months on how to preserve our brain size and sanity at the same time due to excessive indulgence in a peculiar ritual of compressing and tickling the brain, some sophisticated mortals called brainstorming. This practice had increasingly becoming a malignant force that break apart many restless souls. Many had missed their periodic Friday night sacred services to their loyal partner at home, overindulged and too much carried away by the call of duty.

Despite numerous years of digesting the books and technical journals, I just found out recently that brain is one precious organ that required the most energy from our body in order to function properly. Any attempt to squeeze the brain for any illusive ideas, will put much strain to the organ and exhausted our body. Having realized that, my curiosity as to why some of my colleagues dozed off and melt into the oblivion during those many night brain-squeezing sessions was at last answered. Some even purposely left their brain at home and join the zombie army.

This blog comes to live again after dormant for quite sometimes as I finally found my brain again, stuck in between the microscopes in my laboratories.

One interesting encounter though worth mentioning here while having a break in between storming the brain was my sighting on this interesting terrestrial creature lurking in the bush, probably sending out a signal into the celestial planning to dominate our world. In the Keropoklekor land we called this lizard 'pok kor' or a more elaborate honorific 'tokki angguk'. To the One-nation, I believe this lizard is more well known as 'cicak kubing'. To the untrained ears this creature's name sounds more like a disease without no cure.

We need at this point examine the reason why this lizard of which coincidentally can also change color to suit the surrounding are becoming a familiar sight in the Rubberland. In the Far-land this lizard is known as crested tree lizard, or when engaging a fight this creature turns red thus was also dubbed as bloodsucker lizard. This lizard is related to iguana, but unlike other lizards they don't drop tail and run for their life leaving their comrades behind when threatened or encountered any danger. But as my newly-found-brain is increasingly showing symptoms of sluggishness and need to be lubricated more with time I think the question for the time being is better still left unanswered.

One thing for certain however , if this lizard and its similar species roaming wild and free at the foot of the Fraser Hills tomorrow, this could wreak havoc and caused some interesting turn of event that goes down in history.

Dunia tanpa cermin

jadilah semesta pelbagai wajah pelbagai rupa
hadiah Al-Musawwir Dialah pencipta
kenal diri kenallah Dia
Hilang Tursina itu kan tanda

kata sibuta
pancaindera ku dimana?

namun alam tiada bicara penglipurlara
aku engkau dia mereka
engkau cermin aku - aku cermin dia
cun kata mata
zina keringlah kita
sia-sia belaka

kata sibuta
siapa cermin hamba?

sikodok jika berkata
bodohnya kamu manusia
melihat dengan mata yang dua
yang cantik dipuja terkinja-kinja
yang gemuk hodoh cerca nestapa
hati nurani tiadalah dusta

kata sibuta
aku bagaimana?

jika dunia cerminya tiada
si buta tersenyum manja
aku engkau dia mereka
rupanya kita sama belaka





...Dinukil prosa kelibat ilham mengeteh dibawah ketapang - ditujukan khas kepada beruk dan monyet yang bakal kehilangan kebun getah sekangkang kera tidak lama lagi...

Won the battle but lost to uric acid

It was raining quite heavily that early Sunday morning in my neighbourhood. At 0730 hours, I went to check out the battle ground to see if all the troops were ready as commanded earlier and accordingly to our battle plan. Nope. Not a single soul, except a platoon of event organizer drenching wet under the canopy waiting for the 'family' to show up. At 0900 hours the rain ceased but ominous dark cloud still looming in the sky. I saw a stray dog appeared unceremoniously and pissing casually near the ground as if showing his discontent on the somber mode, while other 'family' members were still deep in their cold weekend slumber.

Thirty minutes later however, out from nowhere the whole battalion started to gallop into the field and all hell broke loose with the battle cry and the air was filled with high spirit and enjoyment .

It was an inaugural occasion for our neighborhood - a family day. It took the clan 8 years to have such a memorable family affair. My whole family came to the battle ground unprepared, as prior to this we actually had another important engagement and we thought we were going to miss this historical gathering. But a simple twist of fate prior to the opening ceremony gave us ample time to join the joyful crowd.

Everything turned out well at last. I met many new faces and get acquaintance with many new 'families'. The crowd was ecstatic. The food was good. I saw many happy and cheerful faces that day. Kudos to the organizing committee who had really done a very good job. That is what I called a neighborhood. A happy one.

However, after nearly two years or missing my intimate 'acquaintance', with a mysterious stranger, I had a surprise visit by my long lost friend later that day. Uric acid accumulation from over-dehydration and over-excitement greet me with a limping gesture. This friend resided for a week in my left toe. Another reminder that age is catching up.

My youngest superhero super-lightning dash left his peers still wetting their pants with excitement listening to lengthy instruction by their parents on how to win the race.

Those sweets littered on a canvas was the kids motivation in this race. Adults have their own rat-race to worry about - the prize are of course bigger and sweater 'sweets' if not bitter for the loser.

Another dash by my third superhero with a ping-pong ball in his mouth to win another game. Years of chewing eraser in his classroom had given some added advantage to him in this kind of sport.

My second superhero looked quite puzzled here as to whether he was putting the right make-up for the event. As this was not a fancy-costume party he didn't get any prize for that. However, he bagged his own prize in a game of 'tiup gula-gula dalam tepung' - a game probably created by the rich when the flour price was at their lowest.

Another classic game in most of the family days -'lari dalam guni'. It is a good exercise for those who don't like to jog or don't have time to jog around the neighborhood - just get into one of these 'guni' and keep humping on the same spot.

Look how cool my youngest superhero riding my back sipping his ice-cream in this 'lari kendong anak". I participated in this kind of activity because I want to test my back after a year of resting from any back-strenuous activities. That was a lame excuse though for being the last.

Thank you to Pak Mat (still could not figure out which one is Pak Mat though - coud be a nom de plume) for being so kind and generous in providing us with breakfast and that yummylicious briyani for lunch.

I spotted this cute little baby 'skodeing' me from his mymmy's cuddle while shooting the event. He could be the youngest participant that day. The organizer should consider this category too in our next gathering.

The grand finale - a tug-of-war to test ones muscular strength and wittiness. Out of my excitement and didn't want to let down 'family' request, I forgot that I had a back problem slightly over a year ago and join the rank.

Out of these many trophies, each of my family members took home a souvenir each to put on a shelf. That will be a good memento to cherish upon and remind us that next year hopefully will be another big gathering to meet our big 'family' again in a battle that will strengthen our mutual bonding.