Strange coincidence

1. One day as I was buying some cut fruits by a side road, a familiar face passed by. The fruit seller greeted him amiably and the man responded with a cheerful smile. He walked past us towards a row of food stalls nearby to have his lunch, I supposed.

2. I have seen him several times at the Tamil Muslim restaurant at the junction about 30 yards away from where the fruit seller parked his small truck. He wore long sleeves as usual and I fancied that he might be working as a clerk at one of the lawyers firms across the main road. I haven’t seen him for quite some time since the restaurant closed down months ago.

3. “That’s Dr Saaya,” the fruit seller remarked to me as if he realised that I was wondering about the identity of the man in his sixties whom I was following with my eyes.

“He’s a doctor?” I responded, quite amazed.

“You might have noticed his clinic across the main road.”

“Yes, of course,” I said, feeling quite embarrassed.

“He and Dr Rosli are the only Malay doctors in town,” he said as fruits and money changed hands.

4. Then I drove my wife for lunch at an eatery a short distance away along the main road. On the way my wife chewed her cut watermelon to the last piece. As usual the eatery was practically void of diners at lunch hour. On our arrival there was only one regular customer eating his meal.

5. As usual we settled at one of the inner tables. I sipped a bit of warm water and finished up my cut pineapple before eating my meal. As we were eating, another familiar face appeared. He was a regular who looked like a retired government servant in his sixties.

6. He turned up almost every time we ate out at the eatery for lunch. In spite of that we never had a chance to greet each other because he usually arrived later and settled himself at a front table and always faced outside. I am a slow eater and he was already done and went off before I finished my meal.

7. Then on one occasion he was already at his meal when my wife and I arrived at the eatery. As a gesture of politeness I nodded and smile at him. From then on when we met at the eatery there were at least exchanges of smiles. One day he was still eating at the time we were leaving, so I nodded at him and said, “Be seeing you.”

8. That remark had its effect I supposed, for on one particular day the unexpected happened. As he was leaving he turned and smiled at me and put his thumb up. I waved at him. Before leaving the eatery, out of curiosity I asked Tahir, the waiter who usually attended to us, “Do you know the person eating at the front table just now?”

“Dr Rosli,” he replied promptly. I was quite taken aback and the fruit seller’s words came to my mind.

“His clinic is just over there by the main road,” Tahir added gesturing his hand in the direction of the clinic and I thought I knew where it was. On the way home I was watchful and didn’t miss the doctor’s clinic. And then going 200 yards further I caught sight of Dr Saaya’s clinic as well.

  

M.I.M.

 

M.I. Merican (1882-1956)

1. M.I.M. was the initials used by my father, Mohamed Ismail Merican, when he wrote articles to the newspapers. So it seems. Khoo Salma Nasution quoted an article written by M.I.M. in her book The Chulia in Penang mentioning that the initials were my father’s. I once visited the author at her bookshop in George Town and she confirmed it.

2. Looking for my father’s writings is not easy. He was born on this day of 14 February 18 years before the dawn of the last century. He might have begun writing for the newspapers during the turn of the century. It’s very difficult to search for old newspapers from the late 19th century and the first decade of the 20th century even if they still survive in their common abodes—libraries and archives.

3. We began hunting for his writings at those places since 2013. It’s unfortunate that to date we haven’t found any. I know of at least two articles written by my father that were published in local newspapers. One is obviously the article mentioned above which was published in the Straits Echo, 1904, describing “the Dato’ Kramat cemetery in Perak Road [Penang].” The other one is an article titled “The History of Captain Kling Mosque.” And I believe there has to be several others. I just have to keep searching.

4. I was quite lucky in my search at the Archives where I found a few of his letters, albeit official ones, which reflect his character as a down-to-earth person. Besides the letters, I was fortunate to have come across a typewritten copy of one of his speeches. It was an adjournment speech at the meeting of the Council of State held on 18 August, 1948.

5. Later I found a fairly lengthy newspaper report of yet another one of his speeches in the Straits Echo & Times of Malaya dated September 7, 1951 under the headline “Case for Mukim Councils, Land Banks.” It covered much of the words of his speech.

6. On one occasion I visited his alma mater and came across a very old Free School Magazine which contained a report he wrote about the problems faced by the Cadet Corps in the absence of the teacher in charge. Consequently he remarked that someone was appointed to act for the latter who had gone on a long leave.

7. One of his writings emerged from an unexpected publication. I once got hold of a school magazine containing a piece on fascism. I lost it a long time ago together with a page of his typewritten anecdote that I kept when I was still in my teens. 

A slip of the ear

My son-in-law and family were watching a feature film on TV one afternoon. Suddenly Nuraina said to her brother, Umar: “I heard he said ‘Hussain,’ abang.” She was referring to the dialogue uttered by one of the character in the English movie. She was excited because she thought she heard the character had mentioned the name ‘Hussain’ (a Muslim name) which seemed anomalous to her. Umar responded promptly, “It’s not ‘Hussain,’ adik. He said ‘WHO SAYS.’ That means ‘SAPA* [sic] CAKAP.’”

Fabulous kids

*SAPA dialect (=SIAPA)

Note: In the above snippet the siblings actually talked in Malay.

 

 

Stories behind my strip cartoons

1. During my early teaching days I used to draw cartoons for a children newspaper Utusan Pelajar published by Utusan Melayu. I gave the title “Si Dogol” (Shaven Head) for my strip cartoons which centred on a boy with shaven head. In those days pious parents would shave a son’s hair for the sake of piety.

2. I spent the remuneration money to buy story books for my class library. My students enjoyed reading the books very much and I felt contented doing my bit for the rural young generation. Early last year I happened to meet one of my students at a wedding reception thrown by my friend. It had been a long time, so naturally it was impossible for me to imagine who she was in my class nearly 50 years ago. But I nodded politely at what she was saying. She longed to see me and felt very grateful to have met me that day. She remembered with fondness the joy of reading the books I bought for the class library.

3. Coming back to “Si Dogol,” I intended him to be a simpleton for sentimental reasons. The character is my tribute to a student I knew when I was working as a temporary teacher. He was a simpleton and considered “hopeless” (in his study, that is) by most of his teachers at the time. The situation seemed to tie in with a quote I came across from the famous physicist, Albert Einstein, “The only thing that interferes with my learning is my education.”

4. Miraculously, years later I heard that the “hopeless” student fared very well in vocational skills training and in fact he was sent to England for further training in carpentry. I believe he did it by virtue of opportunities provided by the education system.

5. My cartoon contributions were short-lived, however, for one reason or another. Only 25 of my strip cartoons were ever published. In this post I’d like to share a few of the cartoons with the readers.

6. Teaching in a rural school for nearly 10 years an episode as depicted in the cartoon below was a common experience for me especially during the rainy season when students’ socks often got wet. Here the culprit is “Dogol” himself who has carelessly taken off his shoes.

"Whose socks stink?"

7. The following episode is, of course, an exaggeration. Here the children are chuckling as the headmaster appears at the door to find his teacher sleeping away in the middle of a lesson. I have no idea if it actually ever happened in schools, but I knew at least two of my senior colleagues who were in the habit of sleeping in class.

8. In the episode below the teacher is wondering what has happened to the feather duster. I wonder if the younger generation can make out the story in the cartoon which is linked to a game I’ve not seen played for a long time. In my boyhood days we used to play a game called ‘bulu ayam’ literally chicken feather.

9. ‘Bulu ayam’ was an object that resembled a shuttlecock. Three or four discs the size of a large coin were cut out of old inner tube. The discs were layered and fixed together with a nail pierced through the centre. Soft chicken feathers were tied around the nail with rubber bands. The game was played by kicking and suspending the object in the air to attain a target count agreed upon by the players.

10. You might have noticed the objects under the boys’ chairs. Those are supposed to be ‘bulu ayam.’ The boys looked quite nervous. You might have guessed what happened to the feather duster.

"What ever happened to this feather duster?"

11. The next episode concerns a takraw ball which is made of woven strips of rattan. It is used in a game native to Southeast Asia called sepak takraw. In my country it is also known as sepak raga. Here ‘Dogol’ is unknowingly calling out to his mother to throw out the takraw ball that has veered off and flown into the house through the window. His mother is quite upset because the ball has landed in the bowl of mixture that she’s prepared for making fried banana.

"Mama, throw the ball out, please."

12. ‘Dogol’ is a bit theatrical in this last piece of strip. He sulks and refuses to play the part of a palace guard and insists on playing the part of Hang Jebat. According to the Malay epic Hikayat Hang Tuah (The Saga of Hang Tuah), Hang Jebat by reason of injustice rebelled against the sultan who ordered the execution of his comrade Hang Tuah whom he believed was a victim of slander. However, the bendahara who was entrusted to carry out the execution secretly arranged for Hang Tuah to go to ground in a remote place.

"Never--I want the part of Hang Jebat."

 13. When the matter of Hang Jebat got out of hand the bendahara revealed his secret to the sultan who readily pardoned Hang Tuah and sent him to kill the traitor. By and by Hang Jebat died at the hands of his comrade whose supposed death he avenged. A Malay scholar, Kassim Ahmad, in his radical critique of Hikayat Hang Tuah had elevated Hang Jebat as the true hero in the epic.

 

Tiny Earth, small world

 

“The first day or so we all pointed to our countries. The third or fourth day we were pointing to our continents. By the fifth day we were only aware of one Earth.” – Sultan bin Salman bin Abdul-Aziz Al Saud

 1. Tiny Earth! It was just a tiny speck in the vastness of outer space. That’s what a NASA photo showed in an internet report on my mobile. The image was snapped by Voyager 1 spacecraft more than 30 years ago.

2. At first my septuagenarian eyesight was incapable of beholding the tiny speck, so I stretched the photo with my thumb and index finger and barely caught sight of a tiny dot. How amazing!

3. The tiny dot seemed all alone in the vast emptiness of space, but in actuality it was never alone. It is part of the solar system orbiting the sun along with seven other planets.

4. According to the report Voyager 1 took the picture at a distance of 4 billion miles (6.4 billion kilometres) from Earth as the spacecraft was heading out of the solar system. By now it is reportedly deep in interstellar space at more than 13 billion miles distant.

5. I enjoy reading about the cosmos, galaxies, stars and planets, the mysterious black holes, dark matter and whatnot. Many articles and reports on the internet about the subjects are worthy of note but the physics and mathematics are beyond me.

6. So I might as well leave science aside and contemplate the cosmos with my layman’s mind. I’ve long realised that I can never understand the reality of the cosmos except that I can only wonder at its majesty and mystery.

7. Just imagine the vastness of our solar system alone. It is but a dot within the vast spiral structure of the Milky Way galaxy which has four main arms emanating from its centre. Amid the arms there are smaller spurs. The sun and the solar system reside on the inner edge of one of the spurs known as the Orion Arm, about 26,000 light-years from the galactic centre.

8. It’s a wonder how creation exists in order and harmony. The Milky Way is constantly rotating and the arms are moving through space. The sun and the solar system travel with them. Apparently nothing escapes the connectedness of all things in this universe. A famous naturalist, John Muir, once wrote: “When we try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the universe.”

9. I’m not being cynical, but I believe no amount of science is capable of explaining the mystery of creation through our entire existence. As a Spanish neuroscientist, Santiago Ramón y Cajal, put it, “As long as our brain is a mystery, the universe, the reflection of the structure of the brain will also be a mystery.”

10. It follows that destiny remains a mystery of creation. A professor of evolutionary cosmology wrote: “There is nothing more mysterious than destiny – of a person, of our species, of our planet, or of the universe itself.”

11.It is enigmatic how destiny connects people as gravity connects the sun and the planets. As an ancient Chinese proverb says, “An invisible thread connects those who are destined to meet. Regardless of time, place and circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle. But it will never break.” This seems to tie in with the following episodes.

12. My father and one of his schoolmates were from George Town, Penang, but eventually finished up in Alor Star until they breathed their last. In their teens both were destined to become teachers at their old school, the Penang Free School.

13. Later in 1910, my father’s schoolmate was appointed as the first headmaster of a newly founded English school in Alor Star, but only for a brief spell. Soon my father took over as headmaster of the school in early 1911.

14. Thenceforward my father and his schoolmate moved along separate paths in pursuing their destiny. The latter would one day be blessed with a son destined to become a great man in the country. And it was fated that my father would have no children from his first and second marriage, but miraculously he became a father in his middle 60s after marrying my mother.

15. My father’s second marriage is worthy of note by reason of relationships on his wife’s side. He married a widow who had a son who was married to his cousin who had a younger brother who was destined to be an important figure in the country.

16. As years passed by and long after the son of my father’s schoolmate had fulfilled his great destiny, I had the opportunity of being called for appointments with the eminent citizen on two occasions.

17. On the first occasion I accompanied my sister who sought his advice and help over a private matter. We showed him proofs of our identity and he seemed pleased and convinced.

18. On the second occasion I was accompanied by my wife and the first thing he mentioned was that the appointment was fixed up by reason of the name Ismail Merican, saying that he remembered him for his meritorious services to the state of Kedah.

19. I was very pleased with the remarks made about my father by the eminent citizen who was the son of his schoolmate. And as I was introducing my wife to him she mentioned that her father was a cousin of his brother’s wife. “Small world,” I noted and he took it with a slight nod and a faint smile.

20. As for the “important figure” that I’ve mentioned above, he was appointed to a high government office by the son of my father’s schoolmate for a period of time. Not many months ago someone very dear to me recounted that the mention of my father’s name was lost to him. It seemed that to some people certain parts of history are not as memorable.

Note: To better appreciate this article, see my posts “My father’s subsequent marriages,” “The appointment” and “Pandora’s box” published on 10 October 2016, 18 October 1918 and 7 January 2020 respectively.