Where there's smoke

1. Recently a young employee had made a statutory declaration alleging that his boss attempted to sexually assault him. I found it hard to believe that the boss would face the same situation again that in the past had him charged, tried and found guilty of sexual assaults on two occasions. What is mind-boggling is that the boss is an eminent political figure in the country. In the following account I will refer to him as “the pied piper.”

2. In my youth, I used to idolise the pied piper, a charismatic figure, and saw in him a promising future leader for the country, but it was not until 1975 that for the first time I heard someone made derogatory remark about his behaviour. The remark came from a colleague of mine who became a close friend during a one-year specialist course in art education that we attended at STTI, Cheras. It was a coincidence that the pied piper was his peer at a prestigious elite school in Kuala Kangsar, Perak.

3. Later in 1979 I went for my first degree at the oldest university in the country where I saw disgusting name-calling scribbled at the back of toilet doors that was directed at the pied piper. That brought to mind my colleague’s remark about his behaviour four years back. Consequently, I began to wonder if there could be smoke without fire.

4. During the outbreak of political unrest in September 1998, the controversy of a political decision made by the then prime minister became the ubiquitous topic of conversation across the country. It was at that time that a friend related an account that had happened in the early 1970s when he was working in Baling. It happened that one day he was listening to the pied piper delivering a fiery speech to a crowd in an open place hitting out at the ruling government. As he listened intently, a friend came up to him and said if it were worthwhile listening to one who had a darker side to his character. The friend of my friend, also a peer of the pied piper, went to the same above-mentioned school in Perak.

5. There are other accounts including comments on social media relating to the strange behaviour of the pied piper that undoubtedly have proven detrimental to his public image, but curiously enough not challenged in court. At present the pied piper is still fighting for his survival on the political scene in spite of the controversies shrouding his image.
6. In certain countries politicians readily step down at the slightest hint of corruption or wrongdoing. So I wonder why the pied piper is so intent in pursuing his course of action. Does he really believe or want people to believe that he is the victim of slander? There do seem to be some grounds to suspect his honesty because he remains evasive about his strange behaviour. The story of the pied piper is a tragedy in itself. He puts the general public in a great dilemma. The people are in limbo while waiting what might come next. I for one believe that it is unethical to have a hypocrite for a leader.

Cheapest in town

Cheapest eatery in town

1. It was a wet evening. It seemed that the drizzle might prolong a little while longer. We decided to eat out and ignored the wet weather for a while.

2. It was the end of the month and money was short. So we resorted to a mamak restaurant about three kilometres away.

3. Upon arrival we settled down at a small square plastic table and a waiter promptly approached us to take our orders. My wife ordered mi goreng (fried noodle) and hot plain tea with lime, our son ordered two pieces of capatis and hot plain tea with ginger and I asked for a piece of roti canai (flatbread) and warm plain water.

4. After a while our orders were served almost simultaneously; the drinks came first then the food. My wife finished half of her mi goreng and pushed her plate over to me. So I handed my plate with some leftovers to her for her to eat up while I savoured the mi goreng. That's our usual “practice.”

5. Then my wife gestured to the waiter and ordered two pieces of roti canai for takeaway. We ate up our food and drinks without leaving any leftovers. The mi goreng is one of the best in town.

6. We paid only RM10.90 for our meal plus the takeaway. The eatery is the cheapest in town.

Respect and goodwill

1. They still call me pak cak [pɑːk tʃʌk]. Pak cak is Kedah Malay dialect for bapa besar literally big father. Actually, the precise translation of pak cak is uncle.

2. Yes, they still refer to me as uncle when I met them last Saturday (7 December 2019) at a feast held by Haji Hasbi to celeberate his daughter’s wedding. The rest of the siblings I met at the occasion were Ismail, Balkis, Sabariah and Latifah.

3. They are the children of Darus bin Samaun who I refer to as abang Darus (brother Darus). However, we are not related by blood. Abang Darus was a son of a younger sister of Chik binti Hassan, the first wife of my father.

4. Thus abang Darus was related to my father by marriage. The relationship was further strengthened when my father adopted Abdul Hamid, another nephew of his wife’s. Abdul Hamid married Hamisah binti Saad, a girl from Kubang Gajah, Perlis. They were blessed with a son and a daughter.

5. However, Abdul Hamid died young and subsequently Hamisah was married to abang Darus. I refer to Hamisah as kak Ah and she called me adik [ɑːdɪk] and not by any other appellation. They settled down at Jalan Kaki Bukit on the outskirts of Kangar, the capital of Perlis.

6. Ismail once told me that my father used to visit the family and was usually served with his favourite local seafood dishes such as crab, scampi, squid and snapper. As a matter of fact, abang Darus was a fishmonger at a wet market in Kangar.

7. Abang Darus and kak Ah revered my father and all of their children refer to him as tuk wan (grandpa), so in consequence they refer to me as pak cak (uncle).

8. On occasion my brother, Hussin, and I used to spend our school holidays with the family. We would journey north to Kangar by bus and I for one very much enjoyed the scenery along the way, inspiring me later to show off my watercolour skill that caught the admiration of my “nephews” and my “nieces.” Thus, I earned their respect and goodwill.

An irony of life

Mat (left) and Syadhwan: Good friends

1. My son, Muhammad Syadhwan, has a good friend who is a very skilful car mechanic. His name is Ahmad Yusairi, but he is well known by his pet name, Mat [mɑːt].

2. We would take our cars to him for services or repairs and he is capable of delivering a very satisfactory job. Mat is a dedicated worker, very down-to-earth and honest young man. 

3. He has been married for several years and only now he and his wife are expecting their first child. Syadhwan would share Mat's ups and downs with me, so I know that Mat is facing problems with his health condition.

4. Apparently, he is struggling with symptoms of diabetes that has begun to threaten his livelihood. He has been admitted to the hospital a few times due to diabetes complications such as diabetic coma and extreme fatigue.

5. Weeks ago, I got a shock when Syadhwan told me that it had been a while since Mat was diagnosed with insulin deficiency and consequently he has been injecting himself with insulin ever since. 

6. I felt deep pity for Mat because he is such a promising mechanic, but due to his health condition he is probably going through hard times.

7. At times I heard Syadhwan said he would spend weekends at Mat's workshop to learn the ropes from the expert. "Don't say," I told him. "Just do."

8. I felt like telling him off for being irresolute. My dear son, say what needs to be said only, otherwise just do what needs to be done.

The courtier's advice

1. Folklore around the globe holds troves of interesting tales of morality. They include many stories about attempts by those who possess power and wealth to do injustice to ordinary people. 

2. Essentially, there is a resourceful character in every story. He might be a wise sage or a witty courtier who plays the role of protecting the have-nots from being victims of unfair treatment. Consider the following tale of instant justice.

3. Once upon a time, an emperor who was accompanied by several courtiers, stumbled over a piece of rock in his garden. Being in a bad mood and feeling embarrassed by the incident the emperor pinned the blame on his gardener and odered his arrest and execution. 

4. On the following day, the gardener was asked to make his last wish before his hanging and he asked for an audiece with the emperor. As he knelt before the latter, the gardener hacked and spat on his footwear. 

5. The emperor was stunned and just as he was about to explode with rage, his favourite courtier stepped forward in the gardener’s defence. 

6. He explained that there could be no person more loyal to his master other than the accused. He pointed out that the unfortunate man had acted against his will in order to give the emperor a good reason for hanging him; otherwise he feared that people would say the emperor hanged him for a mere trifle. 

7. The courtier's explanation opened the emperor's eyes to a great injustice that he could have done. So the gardener's life was spared. 

8. As you might imagine, the gardener wouldn't dare to insult the emperor on his own account; he had acted on the courtier's advice all along.

Justice and a gold coin

1. If you were given a choice between justice and a gold coin - which do you choose? Apparently, most people would choose justice because its virtue governs our societies. It is the moral principle that underlies social progress. Upholding justice, Socrates was reported to have said: “Nothing is to be preferred before justice.”  

2. The above question is the subject of an Indian folk tale. An idiosyncratic courtier when asked the question by his emperor had chosen the gold coin instead of justice. His choice had made the other courtiers as well as the emperor himself dumbfounded. The courtiers who were envious of him for being the emperor’s favourite thought that he had had it for displaying such idiocy in front of the emperor.

3. The emperor was very disappointed in him so the courtier had to explain himself. According to him a person would ask for what he didn’t have. As regards justice, the courtier said that the emperor had made it available to everybody in the country. He further explained that since justice was already available to him and he was always short of money, so he said he would prefer the gold coin to justice.

4. The question would remain relevant indefinitely. It persists in the heads of those in positions of power. Like the emperor’s courtier, they might well prefer the gold coin to justice except that they do not need to explain themselves until their insidious disregard of justice come to light. A professor of philosophy, Paul Bloomfield, wrote: “Leadership without an inner moral compass reliably pointing toward justice inevitably ends in the abuse of power.”

The pictures speak for themselves

M.I. Merican and M.S. Marikan (right)

1. My South Indian roots appertain to my father’s side of the family. When he married my mother, a young Malay girl from a family of rice growers - my ethnicity in my vital records belongs with my mother’s.

2. However, my facial features do not quite typify my ethnicity. For instance, during my pilgrimage to Mecca years ago, a few shopkeepers asked me where I came from and my response seemed to make them wonder. I still recall one of them quipping “not original” which apparently meant that to his eyes I didn’t look like a typical Malay man from Malaysia.

3. Generally, in looks I take after my father I guess. For instance, I have oblong face shape akin to that of his (see pictures). As I recall, he had completely turned grey when I was still very small. I guess it’s a hereditary trait that I started to go grey when I turned thirty despite the fact that people normally grey later in life.

4. The shapes of my eyes bear a similarity to his. We have deep-set almond eyes which are slightly “upturned.” With age, his hooded eyes accounted for the droopy eyelids that invite comparison with that of mine. The bags under his eyes were more pronounced during his later years, a feature I now notice developing on my lower eyelids.

5. We also share a rather straight nose with long, narrow ridge and a round tip. The wings of our noses flared out and upward a little so that the nostrils are visible from the front.

6. My laugh lines match his as well. Distinct skin folds run from each side of our noses to the corners of our mouths and thence extend further down the jaws. Besides that, my jowls have begun to resemble his. The skin at the lower part of my cheeks bulges and hangs down and covers my jaw.

7. His other facial features that match mine include his ordinary-looking lips with a rounded philtrum and slightly downward corners; his somewhat narrow ears which seemed a bit longer than mine because of the extended lobes and his round and slightly receding chin except that I sport a goatee.

8.  The pictures below speak for themselves. I have passed my mid-50s when the picture on the right was taken. I guess my father had also had his picture taken at about the same age. The pictures show near likeness in appearance between us, but of course there are traces of my mother's features on my looks as well.

M.I. Merican and M.S. Marikan (right)

Note: My great-grandfather was from Pondicherry, South India. In the 1770s he emigrated to the newly founded British settlement in Penang along with his mother and elder brother and decades later became a very successful merchant in George Town. My grandfather, Vapoo Merican, was born in the settlement and became a merchant in his own right. My father had detached himself from the merchant lineage to join the civil service under the government of Kedah instead.

My Chulia roots

1. If you were to wander around the old part of George Town, the capital of Penang, you would possibly come across one of the oldest roads in the city, Chulia Street. In the 19th century, the road used to be part of the enclave of Tamil Muslim traders where businesses throve.

2. In 1786, Captain Francis Light acting for the East India Company established a British settlement at the eastern tip of Penang island facing the mainland. The new port had attracted the influx of immigrants seeking greener pastures, particularly from southern India.

3. The South Indian immigrants from the Coromandel and Malabar coasts settled along a road built by the British as early as the development of the port itself. It was initially named Malabar Street but later changed to Chulia Street because at that time Europeans used the term Chulia or Chulier for South Indians, the family roots on my father’s side.

4. My great-grandfather, Mohamed Merican Noordin, the patriarch of the Noordin family, was a prominent Chulia merchant during the first three decades of the 19th century until his death in 1870. His mausoleum is situated in Chulia Street in the vicinity of the famous Kapitan Kling Mosque.  

5. My grandfather, Vapoo Merican Noordin, the eldest son of Mohamed Noordin, was a merchant in his own right. He established his own company under the name V. M. Noordin around mid-1800s and ran his business in Chulia Street until his unexpected death in 1884.

6. Vapoo left two sons; Mohamed Hussain, probably a young man at the time of his death, and Mohamed Ismail, then aged two. The latter, who was my father, left George Town towards the end of 1910 aged 28 to make a name for himself as a civil servant in Alor Star.

7. Apparently, my father’s emigration had affected his relationships with close relatives over time. I only have very dim childhood memories of occasional trips to Penang to visit his relatives but nothing really come to pass. I was nine when he passed away in 1956 and for us, namely my siblings and I, it marked the end of family ties with his side.

8. When he died, my father took the Noordin lineage with him. Thus my siblings and I were severed from the merchant lineage. However, I knew that my father was well remembered by his younger relatives; probably his nephews or nieces or more likely their children.

9. For instance, there was a piece of comment I read on the internet in praise of my father written by someone who claimed to be his nephew. And in another instance, my father’s services as a civil servant under the government of Kedah were highlighted in a blog on the history of the Noordin family.

10. It was an irony of life that my father didn’t have any children from his earlier marriages and only be blessed with a firstborn in his mid-60s after marrying my mother. They got a second child about a year later and a third and the last child when he was 68. 14. I suppose that’s the way the cookie crumbles.

11. I guess the youngest of my cousins, if any of them are still alive, would be octogenarians by now. The older ones would be nonagenarians or centenarians. In actual fact, their children and I very probably belong in the same age group.

12. And there is off course the question of paternity that has arisen from a simple matter of variations in the spelling of names in our vital records. On account of the mistakes, I had to submit a statutory declaration form in order to obtain a copy of my father’s death certificate.  

13. Despite the anomalies, I am fortunate enough to become aware of my paternity during the first nine years of my life.

14. I suppose that’s the way the cookie crumbles.

Back to square one

1. Last Monday, 14 October 2019, I once again presented myself at the reception counter of the registration office. My business was, of course, to inquire about the status of my request for the correction of my surname which was spelt ‘Marikan’ in my birth certificate.

2. I have requested for it to be replaced with ‘Merican,’ the usual spelling used by members of the Noordin family of which I am part of. Mohamad Merican Noordin, the patriarch of the family, was my great-grandfather.

3. Having received my queue ticket, I settled back beside my wife who accompanied me to the office and waited my turn. Ever since I last came here to make the request on July 1, I hadn’t heard from them, but then I supposed no news was good news.

4. When my turn came, I soon learned that I had waited three and a half months for nothing. Regarding the status of my request, the clerk who attended to me explained that I have yet to make a formal application. It’s back to square one!

5. She further explained that the submission of duplicates of my father’s death certificate and my birth certificate to the National Registration Department headquarters in Putrajaya was only for verification purposes.

6. Thinking back to that last visit, I realise now that I was somewhat in a “disorientated” state then. My time with the clerk was very brief indeed so much so that it led to “miscommunication.” It was quite silly of me at that time not to ask the clerk for a thorough explanation about the procedures involved pertaining to my request. And apparently, the clerk might have assumed that I was already familiar with the procedures.

7. To make a formal application for the correction of my surname, I was given a set of forms to fill in, including a statutory declaration form to be certified by a commissioner for oaths. Besides that, I have to make duplicates of relevant documents in order to support my application for replacing a vowel and a consonant in my surname.

8. The clerk was tactful in pointing out that it would be taxing at my age to proceed with my intention. I told her, I hope to accomplish what I set out to do, God willing!   

That's life

1. A few official documents I found in the Archives had shown that my father was drawing a reduced pension of $222.86 rial per month after he retired in 1937. When he passed away in 1956, my mother was not entitled to his pension on account of the pension rules that existed at that time.
2. Incidentally, revised pension rules of 1981 stipulate that a wife of subsequent marriage is entitled for derivative pension. However, no one in the family ever thought about it. It seemed to have been a forgotten question.
3. As for me, the early 80s was somewhat a new beginning. I got married in March 1981 while I was in my final year at the university. Early the following year it was back to teaching again after finishing my studies coinciding with the birth of my first child.
4. So, my life was occupied with starting afresh at a rural school and beginning to raise a family. We lived in a small rented kampong house less than two kilometers away from the school.
5. After two years I bought a house in the city about 16 kilometers from the school and later moved house. About eight months later towards mid-80s I was offered to work at the state educational resource centre in the state capital 64 kilometers away. So, it was moving house again.
6. Coming back to the question of the pension. I'm ashamed to admit that I knew nothing of the revised pension rules until the day my niece told me that "grandma is entitled to grandpa's pension." A close family friend had told her about it. As far as I recall that was many years ago when my mother was still alive.
7. So, for her sake we tried to pursue a claim for the pension money against obstacles that seemed impossible to overcome. The main obstacle was proof of identity. It was vital to establish that my parents were legally married. A marriage certificate would have sufficed, but the document was lost and forgotten a long time ago.
8. Attempt to search for a duplicate at the Islamic department was futile because we failed to give the exact date of the marriage. A clerk at the department told us that there was no record of the marriage, but I could swear that I once laid eyes on the record of my parents' marriage in a large, fat book many years ago.
9. In those days the imam kept such books to record marriages of people in a mukim (small district). During my teens one of my close friends was working as a clerk at a primary school in our village. As it happened, the imam of our mukim at the time was also a teacher teaching at the school.
10. On one occasion I dropped by the school office on a Saturday to say hello to that clerk friend of mine. It was simply by chance that I spotted the aforementioned book lying on one of the tables. It looked quite old and battered. My friend told me what it was and out of curiousity I flipped through the pages. Eureka! There it was among rows of dates and names etc - particulars of my parents' marriage. It was unfortunate that I did not bother to jot them down for safekeeping.
11. The book might have changed hands through the years, but the incumbent during the course of our inquiry admitted that no such book was handed over to him. It might have gone missing indefinitely and with it the hard evidence that we badly needed was lost.
12. However, the department could issue a marriage document if next of kin were to sign a statutory declaration that the marriage had taken place and testified by two male witnesses. By then more than 60 years had passed since my parents got married and we could not find any surviving close relatives or friends to ask for help.
13. Moreover, at that time attempt to obtain a duplicate of our father's death certificate was futile for want of his exact date of death. It seemed that we had reached a dead end. So, finally we decided to give up the wild-goose chase.
14. Ironically, it was not until 2016 that we found the date in a newspaper story and subsequently were able to obtain a duplicate of his death document from the registration office. That was about three years after my mother passed away. 

A curious omission

1. As fate would have it, I grew up not knowing much about my father’s background especially about his side of the family and about his working life. It was not until very late in life in 2013 at the age of 66 that I began to do research on my father.

2. By virtue of that, I was able to trace my lineage to Mohamad Merican Noordin, a well-known merchant from George Town, Penang. A patriarch of the Noordin clan, he rose to prominence within the first three decades of the 19th century.

3. I have no doubt that Mohamad Noordin was my great-grandfather. In the book The Chulia in Penang (2014), the author wrote that he had six sons, the eldest being Vapoo Merican Noordin who had two sons namely Mohamad Hussain and Mohamad Ismail. The latter was without doubt my father who was a civil servant and worked under the government of Kedah.

4. In my original birth certificate my father’s name was written M Ismail Marikan bin Vappoo Marikan Nordin. (I have mentioned about the misspelling of names in my recent post of 9 July 2019.) A long time ago, my grandfather’s name made me realise that my father was of Indian descent and I thought that Marikan must be a sort of surname, but I could not figure out if ‘Nordin’ (or Noordin) was of any significance.

5. It was not until a few years back that I found out ‘Nordin’ was adopted as a family name after the patriarch. In the above mentioned book, the names of Mohamad Noordin’s male offsprings all bore the family name Noordin. As a matter of fact, the author referred to my father as Mohamad Ismail Merican Noordin (M.I.M Noordin).

6. As I’ve mentioned in my recent post of 9 July 2019, I had obtained a copy of my birth certificate from the registration office on 1 July 2019 because the original was in tatters. But much to my surprise, I noticed certain omission in the copy in that my grandfather’s name was simply printed Vappoo instead of Vappoo Marikan Nordin as written in the original.

7. I consider this a curious omission due to the fact that the duplicate of my birth record should tally with the original in my possession. But then the duplicate might have been in bad condition that had caused the omission.

8. I need to go back to the registration office to settle this problem. It won’t be easy because the original document is also in bad condition and the writing is barely legible.

The name issue again

1. During my school days my surname ‘Marikan’ was quite an embarrassment to me. Its otherness often exposed me to ridicule by mischievous classmates. Consequently, I got used to writing my name without the surname ‘Marikan.’

2. Later I realised that the usual spelling was ‘Merican.’ My father wrote his name Md. Ismail Merican or simply M. I. Merican on almost all of his books. A birth announcement in a local paper had my name printed Mohamed Sheriff Merican.

3. Incidentally, my birth certificate had my name written M. Sharif Marikan bin M. Ismail Marikan. Obviously my father had entrusted someone to register my birth without giving the person proper instruction regarding the writing of our names. Thus, Mohamad was simply abbreviated to M and Merican was spelt Marikan.

4. It was not until recently that I had decided to rectify what was erroneous for a very long time. I thought of requesting for a correction of my surname in my birth certificate. It would involve changing a vowel and a consonant to replace Marikan with Merican.

5. To go about it I thought the first thing I should do was to obtain a copy of my father’s death certificate - the only available evidence that could serve my purpose. So, last week I drove to the registration department accompanied by my wife.

6. We were there about 15 minutes before ten. I told the receptionist that I wish to obtain my parents’ death certificates. She gave me a couple of forms to fill and told me to make two copies of my IC.

7. Having completed the tasks, I was given a queue ticket. I settled back beside my wife and waited my turn. There were several clerks at the counter attending to their clients. It was quite wearisome, but at long last my turn came.

8. I handed the forms and duplicates of my IC to the clerk at the counter. Then I gave her my IC when she asked for it and she checked my particulars in the forms against it.

9. Having done that she turned to her computer and started keying data to search for the documents. After a while it seemed that she had noticed dissimilarity between my parents’ names in their death certificates and their names in my birth certificate.

10. She consulted an officer seated at a table against the wall of a room just behind her. Then she told me to wait for a while and went into the room.

11. Minutes later she came back with two declaration forms for me to fill in and have them certified by a commissioner for oaths. I had to make separate declarations to affirm that both individuals whose death certificates I sought were my natural parents.

12. In front of a small office several people were already waiting their turn to see the commissioner. I placed the declaration forms into a rectangular plastic tray basket on the counter and waited my turn.

13. As time ticked away, the waiting had just begun to get wearisome when I heard my name called out through a small loudspeaker. I greeted the commissioner and handed my IC to him.

14. He checked the declaration forms to see that everything was in order. Then he asked me to put my signature on both documents and afterwards he certified them. I paid him RM8 for his service and then hurried back to the registration office.

15. I got a fresh queue ticket and noticed that the clerk who attended to me was already gone. When my turn came I was attended by another clerk.

16. As she busied herself with the computer, I asked her if I could get a copy of my birth certificate because the original document was in tatters.

17. She responded affirmatively and advised me on the procedure. I got another form from the receptionist, completed it, made another copy of my IC and then handed them to the clerk.

18. I paid RM5 for each search. After waiting for a while I finally got my parents’ death certificates as well as a fresh copy of my birth certificate.

19. I was so glad and felt a great relief on account of having accomplished my purpose for the day. It was well past two and past lunchtime, so I decided to call it a day.

20. But my wife insisted that I inquire about my ultimate purpose of changing the spelling of my surname from Marikan to Merican.

21. So, I reluctantly approached the receptionist again and explained my purpose to her and she gave me a queue ticket and I waited my turn.

22. Time seemed to pass very slowly, but finally my turn came. Yet another clerk attended to me and after explaining my purpose to him I was told to make duplicates of my father’s death certificate and my birth certificate.

23. Upon submitting the duplicates to the clerk he asked for my phone number. He told me that my request along with the documents would be submitted to the National Registration Department headquarters in Putrajaya for processing.

24. I think the processing will take a month or so. Let’s hope it goes well. But if nothing happens within a couple of months, then I would have to go back to the registration office to inquire about my request.

No legacy but for a collection of books

1. As I recall, my father left his wife and three children no legacy except a collection of books and other printed matter. When he died in 1956 there were only a few ringgit in his savings account. He left no other possessions apart from his personal belongings and the books.

2. Although he was born into the wealthy Noordin family, accounts had shown that he was his own man. He reportedly pursued his own career instead of relying on the family estate. He started his working life as a teacher at his old School and reportedly took to teaching because he liked it. In the course of time he decided to come over from George Town to work under the Government of Kedah. Subsequently, he drifted apart from the Noordin clan.

3. As a young boy, the collection of books, journals, periodicals and government gazettes gave me the impression that my father was a learned person. He might have acquired most of the books well before my siblings and I were born, probably in the 20s and 30s. The collection included several fat volumes of law books including the Laws of Kedah compiled by G. B. Kellagher, a complete set of the Encyclopaedia Britannica, volumes of The Great War, numerous volumes of the Journal of the Malayan Branch Royal Asiatic Society and numerous titles of fictions and non-fictions. The law books were mementos of his time working as Assistant Legal Adviser in the KCS and as Legal Adviser and Public Prosecutor during the Japanese Occupation.

4. The fictions included a number of volumes by Charles Dickens and numerous paperback and hardcover volumes by Agatha Christie and other authors. There was an impressive collection of non-fictions as well; two of which that I remember very well were On the Origin of Species by Charles Darwin and Relativity: The Special and the General Theory by Albert Einstein, both of which I didn’t bother to read.

5. I was fascinated by the Britannica and The Great War since I was five or six years old. At that age I delighted looking at the colour plates of famous masters in the Britannica. As far as I can remember, it was the 14th edition consisting of 24 volumes. The Great War, consisting of 13 volumes, was heavily illustrated with grim pictures of World War I. It was in one of the book that I saw a picture of a zeppelin for the first time.

6. I’m ashamed to admit that I had not been very kind to the valuable collection. Presently, there is only a meagre part of the collection left in my possession. Much of the collection had either been discarded for one reason or another or lost indefinitely. Many lost items were those lent to friends who didn’t care to return them.

7. The first to perish were numerous copies of the Government of Kedah Gazette comprising of loose sheets of printed papers. They had not been cared for ever since I was in primary school and by the time I was in my teens there was no more gazettes on the shelves.

8. Whatever happened to the law books remains a mystery. I can’t seem to recall when or how those fat books went missing from the shelf. They might have been discarded by reason of irrelevancy or given away to someone without my knowing it.

9. During my mid-20s most of the books might well have entered their fourth decade of existence. It was unfortunate that I had overlooked the proper care of the collection inasmuch as the condition of the books and journals subsequently deteriorated after years of neglect. Tiny bugs had caused damage to the collection. Silverfish burrowed numerous tiny holes into the Britannicas. Cockroaches delighted in gnawing the edges of books and journals that became badly disfigured over time.

10. As it happened, I moved house a number of times during my working life and that made matters worse. Moving house was burdensome and inclined me to think twice about my commitment to care for the collection of decaying and probably outdated books and journals. At that time I thought the Internet rules supreme in the world of information. The thought prevailed at the expense of the decaying books. I still remember discarding the entire volumes of the Britannica and The Great War into a large garbage container by the side of the road nearby several years ago. How could I ever forgive myself for such act of folly?

11. At the present time there are only a few books and journals left in my possession. I have listed them so as to cherish and care for what were left of the collection (see below).

Novels                                                                                       

The Old Curiosity Shop (1848) by Charles Dickens

Barnaby Rudge (1911) by Charles Dickens

David Copperfield (1920) by Charles Dickens

Great Expectations & Hard Times (1920) by Charles Dickens

The Rescue (1920) by Joseph Conrad

Life and Adventures of Martin Chuzzlewit (1922) by Charles Dickens

Whisky Galore (1947) by Compton Mackenzie

They Do It With Mirrors (1952) by Agatha Christie

After the Funeral (1953) by Agatha Christie

Ring for Jeeves (1953) by P. G. Wodehouse

Sundry Creditors (1953) by Nigel Balchin

Non-fictions

Principles of Political Economy (c 1912) by Charles Gide (Translated by C. William A. Veditz)

The Economic Consequences of the Peace (1920) by John Maynard Keynes

England in Egypt (1920) by Viscount Milner

The General Staff and its Problems (c 1920) by General Ludendorff (Translated by F. A. Holt)

Speeches And Toasts (c 1920) Ward, Lock & Co., Limited

Relativity: The Special & the General Theory (1921) by Albert Einstein (Translated by Robert W. Lawson)

Journal of the Malayan Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society

Volume 8 Part 1, April 1930 (MBRAS)

Volume 8 Part 2, December 1930 (MBRAS)

Volume 20 Part 2, December 1947 (MBRAS)

Volume 22 Part 2, May 1949 (MBRAS)

Volume 22 Part 3, June 1949 (MBRAS)

Volume 23 Part 2, March 1950 (MBRAS)

Volume 24 Part 1, February 1951 (MBRAS)

Volume 24 Part 2, July 1951 (MBRAS)

Volume 25 Part 1, August 1952 (MBRAS)

Volume 25 Part 4 & 5, December 1952 (MBRAS)

Volume 26 Part 1, July 1953 (MBRAS)

Volume 27 Part 1, May 1954 (MBRAS)

Volume 27 Part 4, November 1954 (MBRAS)

Volume 28 Part 2, May 1955 (MBRAS)