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.

Buns For Father

Father's profession may sound fancy (at least, to me), but his monthly salary is not enough for him to buy himself new clothes. I always saw him checking out t-shirts at supermarket but he always put them back before asking me "A-a-a-Along nok t-shirt dok?" and I said no I don't want any, because I was already a twenty-one year old lad with a good brain to tell myself that I had no valid reason to not to understand his financial state, and I kept this emotion for too long, that I always wanted to cry seeing him without buying new clothes for ten years, so that's why I said no.

Walking out from the supermarket, he stopped by a snack stall, looking at the fluffy steamy Chinese buns, each marked with a dot of food colouring; pink, green, yellow on its dome — indicating meat curry, red beans, and sweet grated coconut fillings, respectively — but Mother just walked straight ahead leaving him craving buns which he could not afford to buy it because he only had RM5 in his wallet to be spent for a cup of coffee and a perhaps a piece of toast spread with kaya at the nearest kopitiam while working at overnight hours so that he can get extra allowances that feed us decent meals all this while.

Few moons later his brother give him a pair of new shoes so that he can wear it while working overnight, but he later offered them to me, "a-a-a-Along nok kasut ni?" and I said no I don't want it. I don't wanna wear it, that's not my kind of shoes that I like to wear. Of course I lied! That was a nice expensive shoes, but sorry I did not have the heart to take it because my uncle said "that's for you", not "that's for your son", but why he still wanted to give me that damn gift he had just received from his brother?! That was a really nice pair of shoes. Why you wanted to give it to me, dad? Just take it. Wear it. I had never seen you wear new shoes before. All I saw at the shoe rack were my shoes which I did not wear them anymore because I had just got new ones, so I left them at home, and I know you wear them while working overnight. Just take it, dad.

I extended my academic calendar in 2010 because I failed three subjects in university. I faced serious financial problems during those hard period. But I did not know, Father at home was facing his hard times too, maybe worse. He did not have enough money to buy groceries because parts of of his salary and allowances were channeled to my bank account so that I can eat decent meals everyday. So what did Father and Mother eat at home? Nasi goreng? Roti cicah air teh? Jemput ikan bilis? I did not know. I did not eat decent meals everyday because the money he gave to me was also not enough. So within three days of each week, I ate three cengkodoks (dumplings) a day and drank tap water. But I did not tell Father about this because I'm a tough guy. Tough guy does not complain.

Father was craving kuih lompang two days before his demise. We could not find any.