New Kids On the Beach

Trengganu, as laid back as it should be is seriously not for IT geeks who like to spend hours in wifi-free kopitiams, Gangnam style K-pop fans, youngsters and young-at-heart looking for a night out, 40-something from the Acute Gout club  or even peminat Che Kiah pekasam. The place is so cool and the people is so blessed with laid back attitude to the effect that until today, 83 days from the day I applied for a new telephone line into my new house, my whole family and I are still talking to the wall without any land line. But Trengganu is where I put my heart now. It is a place for people who love tranquility, jam-free journey, unpolluted air, amusing people with the most powerful G-force in the planet, fresh sea produces and not to mention a long stretch of unmolested golden sandy beaches. 

This blissful place full of expressive form of life and nature has  never failed to inspire me and almost seductively transform me from being a scientist into a self-professed poet. The long infatuation with these zen-like life has from time to time drowned me into a nostalgic mode. My right brain tickles. Even an innocent looking female goat sunbathing  in the middle of Jalan Gong Pak Jin aroused my creative mind. 

My four super-heroes however are adapting to their new life. They are city boys. Three were borne in the City of Kay El and one in the City of Durham, a far away land where people eat Fish and Chips. But surprisingly, despite their endless fixation to PS3 and other  techno-gadgets, they share my intimate passion and similar perversion to the sand and the wave from the South China Sea. They are adapting well. The sea becomes a medium to bond the family together. I like it to stay that way. 

Somewhere in my sub-conscious mind  I always feel at home whenever i put my feet on the beach. I am not new to this  domain. It is very familiar to me.  I am not a new kid on the beach.  Ganukite is very synonymous with me. It will always be. But to my young super-heroes this place is an uncharted place offering them some new adventures. I however, have no worry as looking at their enthusiasm and their youthful spirit, I think they are ready to take the challenge. 

 And my significant half. She doesn't need to adjust herself or adapt to anything. She is part of me.   

 Trengganu without beaches is not Trengganu after all. It will be tasteless. Beaches almost without fail are always associated with fun and sunshine. But fun on the beach is as joyful only with calculated risk. With Monsoon season is  hovering and lingering  on the  horizon, still in its stagnant mode, do not estimate the power of the sea. Few fatalities were reported in the past along beaches like this because some didn't realize the hidden danger that lie under the gentle and alluring wave that beats the shore. (Pantai Pak Tuyu)

Friday morning we are on the beach, Saturday morning we are back on the beach, in fact family escapade will continue throughout the evening and some weekdays as well. In short, I can conclude that my four superheroes are also mesmerized and got sedated by Ganukite wonderful beaches....just like their  daddy. (Pantai Tok Jembal)

The four superheroes were warming up  for some beach actions and get ready to submerge themselves with whatever they thought fit into their fancies. (Pantai Pengkalan Maras)

Walking on the beach is like walking on an open field full of hidden treasures. You'll never know what you are going to find or stumble upon. You just have to pay more attention and with some sheer luck you will be rewarded with something totally unexpected. 

Anything that my superheroes found on the beach, anything that is playable will be their love and joy even an ordinary ornate slipper full of living barnacles.   This interesting slipper has some story to tell. Perhaps if we can talk their language, the barnacles will come up with some good epic story that fit into a Bollywood screen.

The slipper, perhaps drifting from one of  the Vietnamese fishing boats just off shore now become the beach volley-slipper. 

Oblivious to the big wave that hit the beach, my third and fourth progenies seemed to enjoy their newly found playground. The long stretch of Ganukite beaches are now becoming their private wonderland. Most of the time,  all by themselves. (Pantai Mengabang Batu Rakit)

A family photo beside a sampan, under the shade of a coconut tree to mark the historic and memorable occasions, which number is uncountable. The new spot is Kuala Baru, a new lepak place for the whole family along Pantai Tok Jembal. This blissful spot  has never registered in my 45-years-old's Ganukite map before which resided in my mind. Now it is a good time to update my mental Ganukite map with the latest version, minus the Nasi dagang of course.

The outing grand finale is always a family round-table meal  with a mouthful array of a-la-carte menu  consisting of nasi kerabu, nasi lemak and nasi dagang. This only makan place on the beachfront of Kuala Baru  is commendable for its reasonable price, scenic location and free air conditioning complimentary of 10-20knots wind from the South China Sea. And not to mention countless gallons of minute salty sea spray which in 20 years will corrode anything that is metalic in nature. I hope my mind and my perversion to the beach won't get corroded by then.

Post Sonamu abstinence

I am not going to say as much as I like to believe it, the fairy love affair with my childhood favorite  Nasi dagang has finally come to an end. It was a gastronomic lust with catastrophic consequences. The blame this time is not on the tropical storm or the legendary Keropok Losong but on the main ingredient of nasi dagang itself i.e. the sublime ikan aye, or ikan tongkol  as known by the non-endemic entity to this region, or tuna by the sandwich eating people  in the West. Having a second thought, I should have blame my wife...I mean myself for being so ignorance and blinded by my perversion to this local delicatessen.  It was a hard  reality that hit me like a huge atomic bomb, garnished with zillion of  Moruga Scorpions pepper. It seems this fleshy red meat fish has an optimum enough purine  level (a protein that breaks down into uric acid in our body) to trigger gout in me. It was the most memorable experience of an untold agony as it was also the longest. It had been a while since my last intimate rendezvous with this "rich man's disease". 

I would rather actually bath myself in a hot budu sauna rather than starving myself  from nasi dagang.  In Kay El (which is already in a menopause mode) I had no problem at all pacifying my appetite as good and  decent  nasi dagang is very elusive.  In ganukite  it is all a different story. With just a little effort and even  still donning  in a sarong I can just open my door and Nasi dagang is staring on my face right  on my doorsteps.  It is so abundance like indigenous mat rempits terrorizing the trunk road of Kampung Tok Beng and so irresistible like my wife's bantal busuk.

To make the story line more exaggerate,  I've been craving for nasi dagang Ganukite since my hijrah 2 months ago. As fate would have it, the opportunity came for myself  to indulge in this delicacy during a majlis doa selamat a day before Christmas holiday last year. A three days bash and countless sinful indulgence then the first sign of pain started to develop in my left toe. The rest was history... at least until last week. I've learned the lesson well and perhaps 40 over years is more than enough for me to put a stop and finally to strip this menu from my diet.

Now something has just hit my mind. I've just realized another culprit to my post-hijrah malady is the abundance of street fishmongers along the coastal road of Ganukite. The scenic coastal road of Mengabang Telipot, Pengkalan Maras, Mengabang Telong, Batu Rakit, Tok Jembal etc.,  are very close to where I am residing now.  Those places are  a heaven for fresh sea produces from the South China Sea. Because, life is so sedated and easy in this corner of the planet, every other chance I would make a point to drive slowly and stroll with my luvly jubly wife  along these coastal roads. And because there are so many interesting pit stops of kedai nasi dagang, nasi kerabu, sata, otak-otak and  not to mention stalls that sell fishes, it becomes an obligation to me to stop, have a peek and buy some ikan aye for our  kitchen department. In Ganukite, ikan aye hitam is more sought after that ikan aye kurik.  Because the name itself (hitam)  it is believed to contain more purine than the kurik sister. Yes that is finally my scape goat - the beaches are so beautiful and so alluring so as I forgot my pantang. 

As this is the inaugural entry of 2013 and the first since my hijrah to the Keropoklekor land, it is not too late I think to say a Happy New Year to whoever that stumble upon this blog. It is a good time also to bid  farewell to my beloved Nasi dagang. Wishing all my friends a good life ahead, full of barokah...and watch your diet too!

The sight of this typical but authentic nasi dagang, nicely wrap in banana leaf can cause me to salivate for days. It is not love at first sigh, but this sporadic feeling if left unattended can lead to brain hernia and mental disillusion for years to come. Mengidam tak sudah.

Driving slowly along the coastal road, almost every Friday and Saturday morning for some fresh air is one blissful family activity. On that fateful day, I bought this ikan aye and suddenly my life had a purpose. This fish had no photogenic appeal to me  at first, until some alien-looking creatures poking mysteriously from its mouth.  

 For the first time  and probably never being recorded in any Ganukite Scientific community, I saw a Tuna regurgitated another fishes from its mouth. Probably the Tuna too felt very sick from constant  promises by politicians close to General election.  My mother told me the fishes that regurgitated by that auspicious ikan aye could be an answer to some common illnesses too.  I just couldn't remember what those illnesses are. After some meticulous and delicate 2 minute surgery on the  ikang aye by my significant half, the two mysterious creatures turned out to be a medium size anchovy and another small  fish of which I could not make out her identity.   

This nondescript meeting place  for  local  fishmongers and other seafarers along the main scenic coastal road of Pengkalan Maras  is buzzing with activities close to mid day. A place like this is a good place to get fresh produces from the South China Sea. A pakcik with a sarong really blend well with the setting and made the scene.

Sea produces in many forms and varieties make it very hard to choose from. I thought I'd known most of the fishes in Ganukite as they become my staple food for ages. In one of the visits, I 've been introduced to ikan haruan tasik - a fish that resembles ikan tenggiri in the flesh department (I think). When asked, the fishmonger told me that ikan is very popular for asam masak pedas.

Another  fish that add into my vocabulary. Can you notice ikan air bag among the ikangs? 

The trip to traditional fishmongers also excited and fascinated my youngest son. "Hebat mata dia..."  his remark on the beautiful eyes made the  fishmonger makcik smile. His impromptu and genuine remark had  saved me some RM as well :)

Kuala Lumpur Menopause

Sesungguhnya Kota itu nafasnya hanyir
muntahnya berkahak memualkan tekak
menjolok halkum sesak berbaur
neon-neon pun hidup memedih mata
lalu ain ini terpaksa ku lontarkan jauh
berpaling namun tidak ku dusta lagi

Kaki ini sudah penat
longlai kian membatu
berpasak goyah lumpur berhingus
kudrat sudah luntur
iradat masih utuh

namun suara itu berkata :
"...Hei anak Sg. Derhaka, bukankah kamu utusan itu...?"

Disinun
dibenua kecilku
Samarkand subur bukan mimpi lagi
Al-Shams bersinar
"Sungguh..." bisik benua itu

Di Sungai itu
aliran lesu tambah berliku
Aku tidak mahu hanyut lagi
Ku biar Kota itu tenggelam
Selamat tinggal tikus mondok
bayangku akan menjadi teman setiamu




Nukilan tercetus setelah 7 hari menghirup udara segar dibenua baru, di tepi pantai Tok Jembal

I'm coming home!

The Monsoon rain welcome me with a thunderous applause, hammering on the roof of my parent's house when I set my foot for another timeless visit to the charming and mystical land of my rightful birthplace, the Keropoklekor land. It marked the end of dry a season and the beginning of a wet season. It also marked the start of another cycle to my endless life  journey. Fate is gradually stretching its finger and touches my conscience - it is time to pack and go back. It is time to go home. I've finally decided to settle down and later spend my golden years in a secluded corner of the Keropoklekor land. I am going to open another chapter in my life. It is not  a new chapter but a reincarnation of time that fortify the umbilical connection between yours truly and a place where my childhood memory lingers happily waiting to be romanticize again and again. This time I am leaving my ghost behind for good, chained and chastised onto the world that I'd never want to look back.   

In my homeland, I saw many things are different now, but yet many things remain the same. The intimate feeling and the connection with the whole place and its people are as strong as ever. The fondness to having mankind favorite past time- a leisure siesta under a coconut tree watching the horizon has never changed. When I first felt in love with the salty breeze of the sea, it haunted me for life.  This is my destiny, prescribed by the Almighty. In fact this coincides very well with my planned life milestone, except a year earlier.  Most of my childhood friends who we used to play police sentry and ikan skila are  nowhere to find, probably struggling and joining  the rat-race army somewhere in the big city.  I need to  pick remnants of my previous life though to make a good compliment to spearhead and jump-start my new future.

As I am about to start my new journey, I can no longer ignore the inconvenient fact that I'm am also laving part of my colorful history behind. Many lessons had been learned. During my short alliance with that superficial life, many friends are made and friendship are forged. True friends are hard to find but upon finding one, they are a gem to be grasped upon.  I hope that portion of my life journey has made me wiser and even stronger.

An old friend of mine used to utter this lines to me when I was looking for an answer during one of our soul searching escapades in Ayer Keroh, Melaka more than two decades ago :  

Setinggi manapun sang helang terbang

pabila senja menjelang

hinggap dan kembali lah jua ia ke sarang

That wisdom speaks directly to my soul.

I am really looking forward to my new life. I hope the Monsoon, the whole critters of Keropoklekor land and the seafarers from the South China Sea will welcome me with their open heart. The world seems to stuck here in the Keropoklekor land for now. This is  home. This is a place where I belong.

Timeless and beautiful vista like this is a trademark of Keropoklekor land. It will be forever engraved in my heart.  This time it won't be a distant fatamorgana featured  only in my dream. I just open my window and the reality is revealed before my eyes day in and day out.

The face of Keropoklekor land has changed a lot. This gloomy and lifeless spot used to be a bustling jetty full of activities for  small diesel-engine boats to shuttle people from Kedai Payang to Seberang Takir and other kampung along the Terengganu river. These makeover and other modernization are now creeping into the life of local people. Oh yes...I almost forgot. Keropoklekor land is now a bandaraya.

These two lovely soul, my parent is the biggest motivation to me. The big decision to relocate myself to the Keropoklekor land is mostly inspired by them. They had done their best part to bring me up and put me where I am now. It is my part now to carry out a son's duty -  to serve them well. 

Dear Madame, I quit!

It was not an easy decision.  Having spent my entire professional life constipating endlessly among the zombies, I finally decided to make a life changing decree. I decided to write a love letter to my boss and quit the job.

Dear madame,

I am typing this memo to you because I can't write properly. My vision especially in Kebun Getah Sekangkang Kera is becoming blur and increasingly hard to focus.   My sight now is not good and with slight astigmatism I am seeing double. If you care about me you should have known of my poor condition earlier.  The least you could do is to give me special allowance for  Lasic treatment.  Now the smell around my office is also stink. But that is not comparable to your infertile antic that from time to time is getting worse. You seem to walk on the cloud and never look down. I know it is kind of lonely up there. But to make things worst, you are surrounded by clowns who don't know to make a single joke. This make the whole circus appalling, except for the schoolchildren.

As you can see, starting next year our lush Kebun Getah Sekangkang Kera will be converted into  another Kalahari desert full of concrete jungles. I am am expecting by December next year during the Monsoon, the whole Subang Bestari (my house is only a 5-minutes drive to the office) will be wiped out and buried under a mile thick of flash mud.  I am sure you wouldn't  know or even care about all this because you seldom come down from your comfortable laurel up in the sky kingdom. It surprises me of your ignorance as the rotting minds that linger in the field and in the canteen had reached the Seventh Heaven and all the celestial beings are complaining.  

I think my time here has come to its end. In short and after serious deliberation, I want to resign commencing last month and please let me go in peace.

Wishing you, the clowns and the zombies all the best.

Yours truly,

DrSam

p/s:  BTW the password to my PC is "jangan kau rayu" - everything in capital.

That is the actual resignation letter to my boss, after I carefully translated it from Bahasa. Seriously.  Upon learning on my Kamikaze decision, a friend said I should reconsider and write a short memo with a line something like this :

"...I want to withdraw my resignation, I heard a rumor  that  the company which is hiring me is going to hire you too..."

I am sure this is not gonna happen.

It has been 20 wonderful years and I enjoyed and cherished every single moment while constipating in my beloved Kebun Getah Sekangkang Kera. I am not sure about the clowns but many zombies will miss me. I am hitting the road for now and soaring high reaching for the sky.  I believe we are born to be free and free is the feeling right now.

Note : I am on leave until the end of October. Anybody who feel the itch for a leisurely teh tarik session and some tips to write a better resignation letter, you are  most welcome. Everything is on the house.

Now I can see my future

After a lifetime of having  a perfect vision and almost a supernatural power of x-ray capability scrutinizing the unseen and beyond the obscure, I was informed recently by a very young and petite optometrist  that my eyes need some serious overhauling.  What I mean to say is that, I need to replace my old single focal lens with a multifocal which allows me to read, watching ASTRO and monitoring my kids doing their homework at the same time. A multifocal lens enables me to do multiple jobs which is brilliant and cool. I can recommend this to my colleagues especially in the Public service  to have one. In fact I should recommend it to my maid as well.

The problem started when I realized that I need to put my book a mile away in order to make out what the introductory part was all about.  That explains why I just could not finish every single book that I bought from Kinokuniya, Borders, MPH and Amazon.com in the past ten years. The only book that I've so far managed to finish in a single sitting is on "How to Manage your Menopause Boss". That was while waiting for my connecting flight to Rio de Janeiro after a 5 hours delay.  

This is clearly a syndrome. Our friends in the optical department single handedly coined this  syndrome  as presbyopia.  A simple example of this awkward condition is when you start to have a feeling that your arms aren't long enough to hold a newspapers or a love letter from your sweetheart at a position where you can read it clearly. Simply putting it - I am getting old and almost every part in my body is deteriorating.

Having a multifocal lens is supposed to be fun, but it is not. It makes you look like a handicap person.  Apparently, having a defect eyesight with a pair of specialized glasses don't put me in the same league as a mutant or X-men.  At first I felt like walking on the cloud drifting and floating along with the wind. After a while, I can moonwalking like the late Michael Jackson, the skill I've never known I had before.  Using and trying to comprehend this artificial eyes accessory though doesn't require one to be a genius or having an elephant brain. It needs a special skill which is patience. Initially I have to train my eyes to perfectly align with the designated regions in order to focus. They did and they behaved very well.

"up" and the eyes go up when I want to focus on the TV screen. 

"down" and the eyes struggling to focus all the objects down and beneath my belly. But something is not right as I am having difficulty to focus around this region as somehow my expanded waistline seems to obscure the most beautiful sight every man should have.

This starts to sound a bit weird, but actually given that all middle-aged people are bound to start going wrong in every department, a defect eyesight is not that bad either. First and foremost, I am constantly reminding myself that something is being taken away from me in the most fashionable way - by the Maker. Secondly, it knocks the socks off having some dreaded terminal illnesses such as the 'Malay PHD' which translates as a person who cannot see others better than thou or the 'mata keranjang' syndrome. Both  diseases   so far have no known cure.

Finally I am quite contented. With this newly acquired skills of multitasking, successfully training my eyes to see the unthinkable and having a double vision, now I can see my future bright and clear.

Don't trust your GPS, a buffalo is a better bet

When the brainy guys out there invented something new or come out with  brilliant technological gizmo, they do it with good intention or at least for the betterment of all humankind including the aliens and  the whole inhabitants that roam the galaxy. But of course along the way they would have expected their bank account will be filled to the brink from the promised royalties of which in many cases seldom materialized, at least in the Bolehland. There are of course many who had made millions or billions of moolah from their invention or innovative mind but the number of success stories in our own backyard  is still a far cry from that of the Far land or even our neighbors that are becoming more prominent these days - the Africans with their innovative black money scam.  

Not so long ago, my hand felt a bit itchy to give a try using a very important travel companion called GPS, an acronym for a Gadget that occasionally Piss the S*#@ out of me. This gizmo similar to any other technologies out there is supposed to make our good-self smile behind the wheel and maintain my jolly good mood throughout the journey.  This GPS however, on many occasions had caused me moonlighting to the Atlantis and on one instance had almost caused the whole family the  worst gastronomic catastrophe  ever. This gadget is either point you to the right direction or send you head on with the Taliban in Afghanistan. 

It was our first ever trip to KB, or for the uninitiated this place is simply known as  Kota Bharu via the East-West Highway (Grik-Jeli). It was also a perfect opportunity to test my newly acquired gadget I just bought from an underground dealer at Low Yat Plaza, Kay El. After we picked up my eldest son from his College and a sumptuous lunch of ikan sungai at K. Kangsar, we continued our journey Eastward through the scenic kampungs, beautiful lakes and across the Crocker  Range. I was told the trip should take approximately 3 hours from Grik to KB and not more. To cut the long story short, we took 5 hours to reach the hotel in KB through flood laden kampungs, small winding canals, inching through smugglers trail near Sg. Golok  and almost reroute into our neighboring country, Siam via Rantau Panjang. All because I trusted my GPS. 

Wife :  Why  did you blindly follow the GPS darling? I thought your sense of direction is spot on. 

Me :   The night was dark and my tummy was grumbling. I could not see properly as my head was full with nasi  kerabu and budu.

Perhaps this guys who invented GPS should take some lessons  from the sperm. The successful one who has such precision to reach the target (egg) and later grow to become the inventor himself. Perhaps next time I travel, I should hook my head with an antennae that has a direct link with the North Korean Spy Satellite to direct me to the nearest public toilet at Kedai Payang. 

Migratory birds, the white egret have a very good sense of direction. Each year they migrate to the same spot right in the sawah padi of my blissful Kampung.   They have been coming to visit that particular area.   My younger brother told me that  the kampung folks, who I supposedly have  never heard of H1N1, adding this beautiful bird into their exotic menu regularly. The unlucky birds left their tags and serial ring numbers as the grim souvenir.

The post traumatic Raya reminder. This iconic photograph becomes a testimony to the lack acquaintance (ignorance) of the available technologies in photography - a wireless remote shutter release. I inadvertently set the camera to a 2 second timer and the camera managed to capture my own unique zapin style -  and  my backside with all its glory. Classic!