Of Malay Dramas & Myself

In Malay dramas, there are at least five or six or seven or eight dining scenes. Eat. Eat. And eat. It is compulsory for a Malay movie director to include eating scenes before the finished product reaches the hands of movie filtration board's officials. We can conclude that Malays are very extravagant about things that are about to enter their mouth. So the well-being of a Malay family is indicated by the condition of their everyday meals; ordinary kampong folks eat rice together with side dishes by bare hands, the Datuks eat spaghetti by spoon and fork while discussing lightly about 'daddy punya saham syarikat di Cape Town, esok mummy nak pergi spa' or conversing about Tengku Ameera Alice Liyana Sandra Batrisya's convocation at the South Hampton Institute of Technology (SHIT), and last but not least, there's a poor family who lives in an unfurnished wooden house — their dining condition is depicted by a heart-shattering scene where the whole family members need to sit on the floor to eat nothing but rice, fried brine fish, tapioca shoots, and a glass of plain well water — silently. No words spoken.

That was our condition in early year 2000. Father didn't have money to buy groceries. No ikangs nor chickens to be cooked into side dishes available in the kitchen. A typical Malaysian like you know very well, that it is going to be a plain boring meal served afterward. We still thanked God however, that we had kerepok keping (fish crackers) to be fried to substitute real fish. We ate without a single word spoken. Then we had tea, not well water.

Father died many years later. After a few days I cursed my ex for her insensitive question "Deng, are you okay?" at the day Father chose to leave us forever, money from God-knows-where is showering on us. Father's life insurance coverage. His pension. Sincere donations from strangers. Khairat kematian from this bank and that bank in which Father saved his penny.

One of our relatives came by our house for a visit. Instead of expressing his deepest condolences on our dear Father's demise, he came here to talk about termites. Soon, our small wooden house will collapse if we don't change that damn porous main pillar that stands this small hut since 1997. How about renovating the kitchen? Adding another living room perhaps? Hey, buy a new car already.

Fuck you!

For fuck sake, we don't have the heart to do that. Father just gone. He was born a poor man in a poor family. He sacrificed nearly all his assets to raise his children, to provide best education for Sir Pok Deng until he received a Bachelor's Degree of Science with Honours in Biotechnology. And my Father died poor too. He did not have the chance to see me succeed, married to a decent lass, produce my first child so that he can hold him/her and say "cucu aku ni haaaa" before his jealous gray-haired colleagues.




I want that Kia Forte.