THE SCHOOLDAYS

Daman’s reply to papa’s latest post brought back memories long since repressed at the back of papa’s mind, hidden amidst the high school ‘angst’ that papa kept suppressed and restrained all these years. Recalling the ‘nascent times, papa couldn’t help smiling but far from ‘wryly’- neither sardonic nor contemptuous, rather ‘benign like’ if the term be fitting. Papa, all his life has this little handicap that used to get the better of him most of times. He has a speech impediment- he stutters or ‘stammers’- being the more often used synonym.
It must be said that stammering would not go away no matter how long one ‘suffers’ from it. The word ‘suffer’ may not be a teeny weeny politically correct, as people tend to be a bit more ‘patient’ with this ‘sub-grouping’ particularly so whence conversing with them.
They do have the advantage of not being overly pressured or hounded for little or no reasons, quite frequently as the cases were. Verily, a much benefiting precondition-the proverbial trump card to deploy- especially so, in a frenetic cum high-strung working environment. The stuttering person perennial problem is- he or she couldn’t be hurried, being overly excited would exacerbate the problem. Public speaking is a near impossibility, they would shun from it, if not avoid it altogether. It’s not incorrect then to presume that people having this impediment would brook a bit of an ‘incomplete’ presentiment, thus the much hackneyed ‘inferiority complex’. Exactly the situation papa was predisposed to. Making his ought to be ‘gleeful’ times at school a ‘chore’ he would like to disremember.
Papa must only, enounce his inmost apologies for recounting such macabre and odious narratives relating to his ‘inadequate’ secondary school episode. Such BULLSHIT really- considering it was thirty odd years ago. The inexorable yet all the more evolving exigencies but need not imperiled anyone. He was only thinking of himself, as Zul Gagap, not as a Johannian, the imploringly loftier existence, rather than as- an ex Jantan Kabaret albeit still occasionally patronizing kalabul dangdut!
Sorry for the ‘outburst’. Papa losing himself for a while there. But of course Man, I do remember Dear Indy, not only in name but also in entire physical makeup though he could be a bit weather beaten now. Regards to him should you happen to ring or meet him. Is he still overseas? I do have this affliction not remembering names but recognizing faces, more so- old school chums.
What papa would never forget was- all Johannians were gallant young boys then, upholding the school’s good name for always, most at present are the Chevalier Gentlemen as should be, with some, even bestowed with honorific appellatives. A few had transgressed, there must; inevitably, be the imperfections, however slight and one is a Dangdut aficionado! He3!...CHEERS MATE!

Coincidentaly, Indra or Indy for short also needed further mentioning, he was, as only recently revealed by Daman one of two authors responsible for coining papa's infamous nickname-'papalados', the other being Daman himself. Reason being papa schoolboy's affinity for 'smokes'- of the tobacco kind only-never imbued with any other stuff. He used to boastingly exclaimed to everybody back then that he had tried most of the newer brands-the 'lieautenant browns, the 'dukes, and the 'chesterfields',
among the few cigarette brand names papa still remembers. That must have been been how 'papalados' arrived, as 'lados' was another term for cigarette, the source of which papa's not quite sure of. Anyway, papa should stop: smoking that is, its expensive-8.20rm now compared to 1.10 during papa's schooldays time. They were also available in small packs of fives or sixes then. An unhealthy habit, must stop- buying- really, rather than smoking-ambik member punya!...HA3!

PAPA REPLIES

It must be said that papa was verily overjoyed when he received such delightful comments from people who cared to view his inconsequential blog. The much trivial writings of a mid-aged ‘has been’, to where exactly-papa could never say, as he had been stuck mostly in K L. Perhaps to the local dangdut clubs of which the last visit was nearly three months ago. With this in mind, papa would like to explicate a bit further on the remarks of a certain anonymous about papa’s unique circumstances so as to allow him frequent patronage to dangdut establishments. Papa beg to differ, dangdut, should one take the extra precautions wouldn’t cost an arm and a leg afterwards. Be diligent at all times, request for GROs who don’t drink, booked for only an hour or two and not ordering the little extras-the buah-buah, kacang and scented paper towels. Be sure to ask the Mummy first-about whatsoever that need be inquired. The last time papa was there, he expended about seventy RM only. Not really ruinous to his budget as papa only goes dangduting about once in one or two months. Papa should one care to know- as much has been written, is middle aged. Added to that, he also has this little niggly thing frequently associated with people his age, he’s a diabetic .So to father a child having this condition wouldn’t be the best of ideas. Should that reciprocate another anonymous- ‘magnanimous’ remarks, papa convey his trillion apologies if his answer be construed as abrupt and blunt, he was, granting truth be disclosed, very honoured having read, the said anonymous’s remarks. If only he was 25 years younger. On being the diabetic as revealed earlier, papa is positive about it, never fails to take his pills and persistently monitors his blood sugar levels, verily, a modern fact of life, especially for people his age. Daman oh Daman, a longtime pal, the very person who coined the ‘Papalados’ sobriquet. Kudos to you, Bro, for taking the time viewing my little blog. Hope you’ll keep on hitting - my blog, that is.. STAY HEALTHY! The Yang Berbahagia Dato’ part also need be rectified, papa’s not one and quite far from being a candidate for one. Veritably it was just a joke played by friends, one being Dinno- the actual person who started this blog. The story was, papa, until recently used to send his short stories, sms style to close friends. Dinno, upon receiving papa’s sms kept them all in his Dopod, being one the most advanced handphone available, it does not succumb to the ‘used up space’ phenomena unlike papa’s most basic Motorola. Until one fine day that is, whence Dinno- ever the sentient soul suggested papa set up a blog. Papa who was really I.T. myopic then, didn’t even know what the thing was. Dinno who was used to jokingly exclaimed ‘Dato’ whenever papa’s around, just happened to playfully albeit innocuously- include the lofty appellative when initially setting up the ramblings block Well, as the story goes, papa’s is of now actively handling the blog with Dinno, from time to time, looking on. To be the language advisor remarked yet another ‘anonymous’, papa just had to decline. His English may sound bombastic and conventional: upon scrutiny, however, its full of holes and at most times totally out of context. So dear friends, hope this littlest reply from papa is commensurate to the exalted comments your goodselves rendered. Should there be any shortcomings, howsoever, do forgive him. Last but not least, please don’t stop- blogging- verily so!…cheers…Wasallam…

THE SAWIT IMPERATIVES.

Papa waved at Squire Bobby the Planter, he was across the road from where bobby stood, having alighted from his vintage Honda motorbike, the preferred mode of transport in this quaint riverine cum coastal town north of Johore. Young or old, modest or ample, the townfolks seemed to be getting around very comfortably in their cubs or scooters consisting mostly of contemporary makes
Beckoning papa to proceed to Ah Luck ‘Kopitiam’ situated via a short backlane in between the shop buildings, Bobby made his way there whilst papa carefully crossed the visibly busy main thoroughfare. Having seated, Bobby ordered his favourite local blended Kopi O kosong. Papa, from his frequent sawit runs throughout the years has since acquired an implacable liking for the local brew preferring it wholesomely black without sugar, not unlike the Squire’s favorite cuppa.
Sipping his caffeine imbued beverage, Bobby asked papa what was the harvest like? Papa said it was quite O K, concurrent with the family’s smallholdings sawit cycle having run out its bottom line yield, thenceforth, pretty much on the way up. The only setback being the ever escalating operating costs with monthly operational debts owed to the Towkay Baja and Towkay Buah not seeing any substantial reductions forecasted or otherwise. Nevertheless the liabilities are still within the accepted limits, altogether serviceable and healthily conducive to a near upwardly geared sawit management style or in simple talk-“cukup-cukup cari makan lah”.- Papa’s unrelenting flair for the dramatics! Let’s just hope, sawit prices do not drastically plummet downwards to a fraction of what the prices were, not unlike the early 2000 bitter experience. If that happened, papa will sure “MAMPUS” one!
Bobby, sounding a slight disheartened apprised papa on the less than favourable production figures obtained from his plantation down south. Understandable, considering the at times, near temperamental nature of sawit, due to its strictly biological composition
There are occurrences whence no matter how much the amount of care and undue diligence rendered, would still not give the expected results. However the said condition will only be for a short duration and things will eventually and unavoidably go back to normal.
Meanwhile, emerging as if from nowhere, sauntered in a jelitawan- tall, well endowed though a bit lanky yet nicely proportioned, making her a much attractive lass. Of oriental persuasion, she couldn’t be a Muarian or even a Malaysian, for that matter. Papa seemed to notice whenever, he and Bobby had their coffee at Ah Luck, these girls happened to appear, sometimes a bevy of them- at one go. An explanation could be, them making Ah Luck their short cuts as the Kopitiam cuts through two main streets. If ever there be other reasons, papa and Bobby just do not want to speculate. In all likelihood, there would also be the not so savoury explications, one being, the girls belonging to a syndicate. As to what constitute the syndicate, papa and Bobby could not really elucidate further, for it’s beyond their sphere of activities or their understanding-matter of fact speaking, that is.
Returning to the sawit part of the story after much digressing, it must be said that in order to grow sawit successfully, wherefore, acquiring sizeable returns-size do play an important part. Unlike papa’s family holdings of which is quite marginal compared to Bobby’s total acreage, earnings, on papa’s part will to a great extent, be dictated by the vagaries of the commodity’s market. Bobby, on the other hand will be much shielded, due to his total holdings, buoyant liquidity and considerable resources.
Looking at his watch, Bobby had to excuse himself, for it was time to collect his son from tuition class. TA mate, see you in two weeks time…God Willing…

I SAY MAN- UNCLE!

Although the lighting permeating throughout the club can only be a bit dimming and overly slightly dark, the ever telling ‘goings on’ amidst the shadows were starkly visible, should one care to gaze longer.
Whilst dancing with Puteri, the first time he booked her, Papa couldn’t help noticing a group of patrons bunching up near one of the unusually long sofa like seating arrangements, flanking to the left of the dance floor. They were discernibly joyful though much inebriated. A certain individual from the obviously much joyous assemblage seemed to rake in a bit more interest from papa as compared the rest. He did steal a few fleeting glances at the fellow but veered away from directly staring as that would constitute a big no-no in dangdut club protocols if not any club for that matter. It could attract uncalled for situations- may lead to fist fights if not worst. Papa was more than aware of the conventions, being the seasoned player he was.
The said patron that caught his eyes numerous times was a septuagenarian among the thirty to mid forties entourage. He could be seventy plus if not
nearing eighty years of age.
Doing a sort of peculiar like geriartric shuffle- one or two minute movements to the front, to the back and to the sides regardless of any musical genres playing, be it in slow or fast configurations, he appeared quite oblivious to all that was happening around him. Somehow a couldn’t care less disposition emanated from his countenance. He did appear to be a bit light headed considering the more than few tipples he had from the sinister looking bottles cluttering the group’s table.
The GROs they hired were very relaxed and seemingly not at all inhibited intermingling amongst them, despite the group’s, at times, near boisterous antics. Must have been their ‘regulars’. The old chap, mostly than most did not appear to have any problems requesting the girls accompany him dance, albeit almost all adopting the infamous nonchalant ‘stare emptily in front’ deportment whilst ‘shuffling with him. They had no other choice but to emulate his uniquely ‘much subdued footworks’.
I SAY MAN UNCLE! ARE YOU ENJOY? I ALSO ENJOY LAH! FOR SURE WE ALL ENJOY ONE! COME HERE TO ENJOY- WHAT! IT’S A FREE COUNTRY ISNT IT? TO EACH HIS OWN LAH UNCLE YA! LIVE AND LET LIVE UNCLE! TOMMORROW IS ANOTHER DAY! SAMPAI PAGI!

A PEARLY PRINCESS THAT IS NOT QUITE SO

Upon receiving Bro K’s sms, papa felt apprehensive, he would be alone at Mutiara. Much looking forward to his spontaneous yet amusing antics, papa did not really fancy going dangdut clubbing alone .
He ventured in, asking for mummy Shima- papa was a bit disheartened upon hearing she'd been down with the weather and was on leave for the night. Knowing her from Bunga Raya days, Shima is more than a friend to him, she was the long lost buddy from yore but recently found yet still plying the dangdut route. Shima’s replacement tottered up to him, smilingly inquired whether he wanted a GRO to accompany him for the evening. Since he’d got no other plans, papa gave the affirmative. Querying if ever an hours booking was appropriate and within the ambits of club policy, of which he got a ‘yes ‘ reply, papa requested for a girl that does not drink and can dance.
Her name was Puteri, not much a sight to look at but still pleasant- though.
It was her prancing on the dance floor that really mystified papa. He’d got that something that’s irking him all this while, in which, was a difficult slow dance maneuver he’d been trying to master all these years. Having Puteri in front ‘waltz’ style, papa initiated the few vague steps he knew. As if by magic, she’d just took off from there, bringing papa along, without a hitch. He truly felt like crying. He’d danced through all the demanding movements.
Alas, the slow dance part was over, it’s now dangdut’s turn, yet again she took papa along, only this time it was the upbeat tecno infused configuration. Papa, ne’er his woeful existence thought he would be able to render justice to this infernal, much fast paced cum fast thumping contemporaneous dangdut genre, but he did, albeit breathless and aching at the back
Unabashedly, Puteri took it all in stride whence papa heaped platitudes upon platitudes of compliments onto her- for being the ‘dance teacher’ he’d never expected. Probing, should ever she’d had a day off in a week lest papa would arrived unexpected, “she replied, not usually so”, papa promised to come soonest possible so as to again ‘swirled and twirled with the lithe but ‘plain’ Puteri Mutiara!.

DIALECTICAL DANGDUT

Papa once in a while forays into the dangdut realm necessitates a serious deep soul searching exercise on his part. Why must he champion such a derisory undertaking? An activity looked down upon by all and sundry. Little did they know that dangdut is actually a logical cum eclectic consequence of popular malay music descending through time and converging into present day acclamation albeit not quite agreeable by local music elites. There are negative type embellishments that are imbued into the contemporary dangdut experience.The not so savoury elements from the 50’s cabaret notoriety that inadvertently ensued popular malay club scenes untjl today. So called pundits do not far deviate from the truth when they could only be condescending if ever dangdut be conferred a cultural like appellative even though not officially. Somehow it couldn’t be categorized alongside the joget, inang and zapin.
It could be a little bit more politically counterbalanced should music-in all its multifarious temperaments persist together with its danceable features. In other words, what good will its much inspiring melody be if it couldn’t be danced to! Not unlike, the salsa and the samba-what elegance should they subscribe to if there weren’t the illustriously conjoined ‘shuffle and twirls’.
Music must have its dance elements.Thenceforth the dangdut or the cha-cha-cha for that matter, must one just listened with only spirits uplifted rather than joyously move to their synchronized frolicsome wiggles and footworks. Should the whole ‘experience be salubriously combined thereupon the gratification would only increase ten fold
Just go learn the dance: for sure you’ll loved it. But for now, dangdut can only be at the fringes, Its infamy surpassing itself. Do look for it,however, should one have the time, that is, its only played in seedy dangdut halls- amidst K.L’s rubbish strewn backalleys…

A BONE OF CONTENTION

Cumbersomely reinstalling the newly charged battery, papa couldn’t help thinking about his forthcoming mandatory sawit run this coming Friday. His 4WD pick up of which has been stationary for the good part of nearly six weeks had given the dead battery problem, that’s the reason for the extra ‘heavy work’ earlier on. The truck seems to start well so the trip wouldn’t be much of a problem, Insyaallah..
Somehow his thought diverted to the quite heated discussion old fempan had with jinair the thursday night last week. Papa was then wrought with pressing the appropriate keys on his just acquired laptop. Quite a level of skill needed to reasonably chronologised the entire enterprise.
Papa did not really hear what the topic that was berated upon but the ‘gist’ that he got was its something to do with the esoteric being the overlord off all things-as contended by fempam and the fantastical possibilities that can be derived should all people, transcending entire borders dividing the world, acted in concert for the just one and only time in order to achieve that epic water-shed like heavenly inspired outcomes- as lectured by jinair.
Meanwhile, outside, a congregation of much animated young people was shouting and hooting at each other. Must have been an informal group meeting of some ‘multi level ‘ business, excited at the unexpected profits generated through their unremittingly efficient thus all the more effective networking. Such exhilaration, if only papa was twenty five years younger!
Inside, a near demented fempam vehemently defended his position with the unusually somber but stoic jinair not at all relenting- even a bit. Mexican ‘stand off’ like, the whole woeful affair concluded itself whence fempam and delpam excused themselves midway, citing reasons of having to be early at office tomorrow due to increased workloads. Papa went home nearly three in the morning after maneuvering the indeterminate laptop thingy with jinair as his teacher and guide.

THE PETRONAS TOWERS-A MODERN MARVEL

The dark hued silhouette of a betel nut like tree stood unwavering in the still night. Behind it, a backdrop of the ubiquitous apartment buildings interspersed with the odd tower blocks housing offices of numerous businesses. Amidst the organized clutter, in the distance, upended the Petronas Twin Towers. Ironic to the extent of: being the country’s namesake whenever the Nation is invoked. The twin beacons of progress, peace and harmony- beckoning peoples’ of the world to come visit this tropical paradise situated beside the length and breadth of the Malacca Straits.
An image so empowering and successful that the quintessential Malaysiana might be lost to it. The teh tarik, roti canai, nasi lemak and char koay teow to name a few. Quoting only the favourite gastronomic delights of K.Lites-Papa has his aberrant justifications..He’s afraid the illustriousness of his favourite cuisines be marginalized thus relegated to the fringes of the buzzing Metropolis. All the more losing their unique tastes and textures. Little did he realize that most of his preferred menus’ are already being factory rolled in mega 24 hr eateries, upmarket or otherwise, throughout the city.
Going back to the KLCC, its only apparent that prices for real estates surrounding it, must only increase thenceforth grabbed like goreng pisang panas by people from various Nations.The influx of money and cultures hardly known before A potpouri of mix adding to the already vigorously boiling melting pot that is Kuala Lumpur. A truly exciting development making K.L into any throbbing cosmopolis much like London, Tokyo or New York.
Not to forget the influx of migrant workers satiating the 3 D plus long hours job markets. Filling, particularly so, the mushrooming all day and night long restaurants all around the valley. As our own youngsters may not be ‘focused’ enough for the overly demanding vocations made available- entailing the unusually increased requirements for food outlet workers-the employers have no other choice but to heavily recruit, especially so, the sing song speak Myanmar boys and the quaintly staccato blurt Mollywood toughies.
Challenging times, perhaps, for the local authorities albeit for any authorities around the world having had similar experiences. Inexorable developments that any mature country need faced and dealt with. Thence, Malaysia, a truly wonderful place to reside in.
Kudos to all Malaysians for incessantly being the courteous and evermore kind hosts that every citizenry of every nation be proud of. Papa, neither the chauvinist nor the hypocrite welcomes all these dizzying extensions. The ever vibrant KAY EL!

THE DATO'S BOGUS-THE ATTACHING SCENES- THE CLOSURE

The late broery’s song ‘selamat tinggal sung by papa that Saturday nite at K lounge was verily a parting song for him. He wouldn’t want to go there anymore, for its there that’s he’s exclaimed as “Dato’ Papa”. The Dato’ that no one knows about, where in fact there was none. The Dato’s bogus and its getting into papa, basking in its self acclaimed glory.
He’s beginning to look silly, he drives a down to earth, bone shaking Iswara not a gleaming SLK, and that’s only one of the many inconsistencies. Further to that, he’s broke; only a few pennies here and there. Veritably a bluff he couldn’t shoulder anymore. Thenceforth to avoid anybody getting hurt, himself included; its sayonara Wati k, bye bye bubbly Anne, Da, Da aida and Auf Weidersehen K lounge. God Willing!

THE DATO'S BOGUS-THE ATTACHING SCENES; A REVELATION

To a certain extent being elevated to a ‘Dato’ albeit a bogus one has its palpable peculiarities. Frequently treated like near royalties, one has to always project a salient image commensurate with the lofty title. In public places, not unlike K lounge, he will be amicably greeted, occasionally addressed to and pretty much left to his own thoughts, Distinctively only guarded remarks were accorded when conversed with.
A terrible predicament for a ‘manic person’ like papa lados of whom is as ordinary as your next door Pakcik Mail, Uncle Wong or Mr Raju.
The “Dato” designation, an illustrious and honorific appellative imposed by Bro K as a harmless prank but since then has taken a life of its own. Fortuitously, its only at K club that this dramatics been played and not anywhere else.

THE DATO'S BOGUS-THE ATTACHING SCENES; A SAGACIOUS AFTERTHOUGHT.

Papa lados himself, as of late, has begun to believe the ‘bluff’. The character “Dato’ Papa” is beginning to have a life of its own. Convincingly ‘propped’ by the jvc, ‘Dato Papa’ imbued an element of respectability to the grouping. However the whole ‘charade ‘ might blow up in their faces; if played too often.
Papa can always skedaddle to Bukit Tengkorak and cower in a bush somewhere, licking his wounds.The jvc having nowhere to go except KL must then bear all the dignity and embarssment, but the Dato’ can always be blamed for being the ‘pretender’ albeit quite persuasively so.
It must be said that it was all a perfectly harmless ‘ruse’ and nobody was hurt however remotely. All in all, it could be surmised that, people, although initially; slightly irked, astounded and bemused will forget the whole ‘episode’ after only a few weeks.
A negligible ‘misadventure’ that’s unmitigatedly not pre meditated and wholesomely innocuous.
NB-The jvc is an acronym for the junior veteran club-a loose and not at all formal grouping, papa and his like minded cum like aged friends called themselves: though it must be said; they’re not so “junior” now!

THE DATO'S BOGUS-THE ATTACHING SCENES 4

The slow staccato beat commenced, signaling a dangdut song was in the offing. Aida rushed to the table immediately in front of her, took ‘Dato’s hand but changed her mind when she saw Wati K gyrating to the music. She pulled Wati aside, whispered something to her, then lead her to the dance floor. ‘Dato’ tailed behind. Wati turned, faced him and they danced. Cajoled by Bro K, ‘Dato’ grinned from ear to ear throughout the entire dangdut number. He was truly happy, he got to dance with Wati. He hardly noticed PakMi beside him, dancing with Kak Maton and Bro K in front with Aida.

THE DATO'S BOGUS-THE ATTACHING SCENES 3- WATI K'S ENTRY INTO THE ENTIRE VISTA

Having accepted Bro K unobjectionable ‘dare’, papa circled the empty coke bottle 12 times. Losing all sense of balance immediately after, papa had to grab at the nearest item. Little did he know that the item was young Wati’s welcoming arms. Embracing papa gently, she graciously guided him to the bar stool where he sat, ashen faced. In her own little way, she really cared for the old bastard. Papa’s affection for her intensified.
Oh! What fun was that night! Anne found her comfy pillow again. Fempam chatted up Kak Maton. Unkel and Delpam had meaningful conversations with a ‘mature woman’.Delpam even getting a few dances as well. Papa got to sing and dance the dangdut and cha-cha with the ever affable Aida. The insuppressible Bro K got to be his beguiling best. Mann had a bit of a fever.
Upon conclusion of the exulting niteout, they all went home, back to their respective abodes and own beds except the jvc of whom stopped for late supper at Deen’s nasi kandar’.

THE DATO'S BOGUS-THE ATTACHING SCENES 2

The world’s a stage and people are merely players-to quote Shakespeare. So thus bubbly Anne, the pretty cum petite singer from K lounge. Mesmerized by ‘Dato Papa’, she still longed for him. Disappearing without a word, the last time they met, she hopes to see him again. Alas little did she know that ‘Dato Papa’ was just a character played by papa lados-the mid-aged bastard. Perhaps being twirled and swirled latin style ; the breathless young crooner was in a way ‘romanticised’ thus smittened by the bogus ‘Dato’.
But the ‘Dato’ would just be any Dato’ if not for the faithful but talented henchman played by our bro K. However the Dato’s friends too played their parts albeit subtlely. Especially so, when bro Joey invited bubbly Anne to ‘berlakon in his production house. Unlike papa, joey wasn’t acting. Veritably, he’s the real McCoy although not authentically titled yet-but very soon..Insy2! 2

THE DATO'S BOGUS-THE ATTACHING SCENES

The subdued lighting amplified the quiet but vibrant K lounge. A merry crowd near the stage sat mostly composed but obviously enjoying the club ambience. On stage, a lively three piece outfit played. The bogus ‘Dato’ danced a latin style slow number with the beautiful crooner after being invited, by her, moments before. The irrepressible bro K serenaded the ‘Dato’ and the surprised but delighted house crowd with a robust rendition of the late Broery’s “Biar Bulan Bicara”. Egged by bro K, everyone joined in. A magical moment, all the more enhanced when papa lightly ‘kissed on the cheek’; the jelitawan singer, towards the end of the song. In the fleeting instant, papa truly felt like an ‘Aristocrat’, notwithstanding the fact that he’s not and in most likelihood never could be..Maasyaallah!

THE DATO'S BOGUS-THE ADVENT.

How did it all emerge? This ‘Dato Papa’ theatrics. A just for fun horseplay at K club the first time papa went there. Initiated by Bro K, it somewhat commenced; when melodramatic as it may seem, papa made his undignified grand entrance into the dance hall. Bro K must have had that instantaneous epiphany to set in motion the inconsequential prank upon seeing him arrived. Pestering the band to sing papa a much belated birthday song together with inviting him dance with Bubbly Anne, the jelitawan singer, the stage was set. It started from then onwards, the ‘Dato Papa’ conundrum. A perfectly innocuous dramatics not at all duplicitous nor malignant and played only at K club, not anywhere else!

FLIGHTS OF FANCY

It would be quite wonderful to speculate a what if situation. Something relating to the jvc of any of its members. How would things turn should every one of them got into big money? The members ever skint for cash would have gone ballistic. Having received their equal bounties they would go berserk, buying new and gleaming cars, renovating if not purchasing newer and bigger houses, changing their dreaded wardrobes and last but not least actively partake in serious ‘make-overs’. They want to look good commensurate with the big bucks they now hold. Consequently, the proverbial ‘chase’ for the jelitawans only this time; near nothing could have hold them back. Going the full monty would be an understatement: they could now marry the attractive apamb..c..ns’should they want to if not one but three or more: illicitly!. What do they care-they are filthy rich
Papa as a case in point would be literally drowning in the excesses, smoking the most expensive cigars money can buy: the cohibas and Arturo Fuentes to name a few. Surrounded by pretty apams abound it would not be difficult be to envisage albeit lewdly the juxtaposition of the oversized cigars and the p..k..ibacins. Frenetically hedonistic and salacious at the very least.
Unkel with his seemingly heart condition would have gone over a couple of times-overkilled by astonishing circumstances. Bro Delpam would be laughing aloud every three minutes. He had gone crazy. That’s why God in his all knowing constituency would never bestow such abundance to the mid-aged has beens for they would only go mad or end up dead-unsure of their places in the hereafter.
Having displayed such fantastic and desperate synopsis as regards the jvc’s excessiveness cum debaucheries although mostly fanciful, papa couldn’t help recounting a longtime friend’s favourite phrase ‘berangan jangan lokek’ or never limit one’s daydream; even to the extent of becoming hallucinatory.
Profound apologies to his buxom buddies should they feel slightly perturbed having read this post. Papa hope his sahabahs could take it all in stride and in the name of harmless fun. We must if you will be forever thankful to the almighty yet ought not cease striving for the best no matter what our age. Insyaallah 2 !

THE JELITAWAN'S IMBROGLIO

Lest we the middle-aged bastards think of only ourselves as the ones’ being perpetually short changed as regards young jelitawans, let us now put ourselves in the jelitawaan’s shoes. They for one wouldn’t be the aged old dumb blonde character- considering the advancement in contemporary education. In all respects they would all be diploma or degree holders. Therefore taking into consideration their intellectual levels- could it be possible: mid-aged has-beens the likes of papa; per se, would at all be appealing to them. Veritably, a perfectly inconceivable situation. The jelitawans’ being ultra smart creatures would never want to reduce their position; taking into account the more than ample incomes they’re earning by virtue of their educational strengths.
However success in all its multifarious and much glorified attributes could be the aphoristic ‘lures’ that will draw the jelitawans near. Mid-aged personages having in their persons the above mentioned properties would be hard pressed avoiding the jelitawans’ advances. Should one falls; then the one million plus condo together with the half million coupe, on top of the 25K to 35K monthly allowance for the jelitawan, wouldn’t even incur the bat of an eyelid from the awesomely wealthy but debonair,
Chevalier gentleman.
Papa; bar only duplicitous pronouncements; could not even near that unique disposition. To even contemplate he: along with his miserly few hundred ringgit; go jelitawan chasing and expecting positive results at that is preposterous in the very least. Even absurdity has its limits. F….k you papa! What were you thinking of ?.

WHAT'S YOUR HANDICAP?

Just the other night; papa saw a slightly paunched man, pretty much like him;middle aged and greying. The only difference was; he had a jelitawan beside him. He does looked prosperous; dressed well and so does the girl. From first glance alone; people would know that they were not near relations. They had to be a couple. This chap must have tried for the better and got the girl. On top of that; he seemed to have the ‘dough’.However that formula alone wouldn’t have worked unless and until an extra element is added-the finesse part! Papa for one lacked this all important appendage. He knows this; except that he’s being apathetic and just doesn’t care. For the truth of the matter is: he’s not chasing. He only wants to show bravado by just talking rather than actually pursuing. He saw no purpose in pursuing anymore. Papa’s happy basking in his little niche in life.
The ‘golf’ albeit the world’s worst swing henceforth playing the public nine hole golf courses with friends of his golf standing- ‘homeless and hopeless’. The fortnightly visits to Bukit Tengkorak with Wak Mus- the toothless tiger from Sengkang. Traversing the length and breadth of Muar and Batu Pahat searching for delectable cuisines-the beriyani, asam pedas and early morning satay among the few and disparate.The very much mundaned activities of an ordinary man. Mediocrity at its unmoving best! Perhaps if he could squeeze just a few ringgit more at the end of the month whence the incomes and expenditures are balanced out; then and only then can papa go jelitawan chasing but what good would it be if only a few hundred be managed!

DINNO'S PROTOCOLS

Harbouring deepmost presentiments for the young and vulnerable, papa does not really want to delve into the evil fetishes of his fellow human beings. The result of which would only wound him emotionally. The case of the little girl lost and found much later in a gym bag- deceased. The evil that men do wherefore prompting Dinno the de facto organizer of the ramblings blog (papa supplied the inputs) to construct such informative and instructive protocols.
Dinno ever steeped into the legalities of things, was not unfamiliar with words couched in much determinate terminologies as a result of him being quite an authority on them: he’s a lawyer.
On the other hand; papa’s writing style must only be flamboyantly daydreamlike, compared to the terse, uncompromising and judicious dapperness of Dinno’s penmanship. On that account;papa has only to look forward to more instructive texts in the future. Illuminating us all, upon the imperatives vis a vis the uncertainties of modern day realities. Kudos to Dinno, ever the sentient and compassionate soul

NB - Having studied the rudiments of laptop craft, papa is of now actively assisting Dinno fill up the ramblings block.

THERE ARE SALESPERSONS AND THERE ARE SALESPERSONS

Dinno waved his right arm beckoning papa and jinair to come sit outside in the smoking section. Longtime Benny, the main man nonchalantly walked to the nearest table. Having seated; all four started to order the ubiquitous the tarik in all its subtle varieties. Dinno set forth the conversation by mentioning the sms unkel received from jelitawan w.t ; requesting him invest 15K with her to help top up her monthly quota. “She could at least arranged for an appointment instead of just sms ‘said Dinno. ‘15K is no small amount you know “ he continued. From then on, the conversation lingered upon the demerits and possible merits of being a marketing person. All the more riveting if such a person be a pretty girl. Benny recalled a lady executive still hounding him; imploring him to come view her financial products. He further maintained in most definitive terms his recalcitrant posture in not giving in to her request until and unless he felt like meeting her along with conditions attached. As to what the conditions are ? Only Benny is privy to. Jinair thence related his work cum holiday in the Philippines. Waxing lyrical about the young girl he came upon: how willing she was assisting him; preparing meals, seeking value for money accommodations and arranging for transportations. He could have easily gone further, but jinair, considering his ever dogmatic persona and assertive demeanour declined. Papa believed him. Benny interjected; recounting his working sojourn in another ASEAN country-the fantastic experiences amongst the girls; ever more beautiful and incessantly willing. Papa just had to replace his lost passport.

THE OLD FOOL IN LOVE

There comes a time in a mid-aged has been’s ljfe whence little gestures especially from pretty young things invoked sentiments long thought lost. If this happens, then one’s treading on a very thin line indeed. Should rationality be lost to base emotions; the outcome would only be ‘the fool in love situation’, only this time; it’s the much adaged ‘old fool’. Regardless of one’s age or level of maturity, the same textbook mistakes will be incurred again. The bewildered jelitawan of whom accorded the initial gesture as a sign of respect to a benign father figure will do a turnabout and concur ridicule and derision instead. It will be too embarrassing, However if you have plenty of money and is more than willing to flaunt it. The situation can only get conducive thus making the jelitawan tailing you!
As for papa, he’s all time broke…

BALIK KAMPONG

Veritably "balik kampong"is very much an institution.A multicultural Malaysia thus giving "balik kampong"its peculiarly salient countenance inmost immersed into the context of "Malaysiana".The unusually long and substantial time off officially decreed but much awaited by all.A time whence overzealously excited Malaysians satiated with festive propensities and holiday spirits headed in throngs back to their small towns and villages.A visiting their ageing parents and childhood dominions.Calling upon old neighbours,relatives and friends.A time to recollect,reminisce and refamiliarise with much expanding families and relations.A very poignant chronology indescribable by words.One truly had to experience to plumb its markedly quaint presentiments.Verily Magical!
Sadly papa only got to know his dear old father in law,now deceased,only for a few years before he passed on.A grand old man residing in a small town located near the southern most tip of the Asian Continent.Tears welled in his eyes everytime he thinks of the old chap.Much kind,very wise albeit wholesomely modest.Steeped in old javanese lores and Petuas(ancient instructions).
All in all now,papa,the missus and the kids have only Kampong Baru,Kampong Pandan and Kampong Dato'Keramat to go back to.His mum is well and healthy staying near Dato Keramat.Lastly,a belated Selamat Hari Raya!

MIRROR-MIRROR ON THE WALL

Having entered the box shaped elevator,papa couldn't help noticing the mirror like four surrounding walls.Being alone in the lift ,papa stared into the much vivid reflection in front of him.What he saw totally surprised him.It was a greying old man wearing an oily canvasslike baseball cap.The cap was due to the slight drizzle outside.No wonder the amorous like smile given him by the pretty young officer at the bank counter of which papa mistook for an unprovoked romantic advances that he did not reciprocate.It wasn't at all the twisted notion that papa surmised.Upon circumspection,the controversial smirk could also be construed as a kind gesticulation for an elderly avuncular or unclelike figure.She did call him uncle.Papa emitted a wry smile.He couldn't help thinking that the perfect jelitawan everyone else envisaged as his inconsequential"quest"had been found.She was the young mother to be that out of her heart invoked a very much affable gesture in the honour of;a lonely and near bitterlike old man.Proverbially speaking and veritably,beauty,as always, is not skin deep.It really comes from deep inside a human being.Tears welled in papa's eyes.

SONGKOK MERENG-TELOK BELANGA!

Waaah..... Pk Mi has really got it made !! When asked by Papa whether he'd acquired the extra tall ~m. rajoli~ songkok? He replied he already had one and its well kept in the house. ~I wear it only with my telok belanga baju melayu ~ he reiterated. When inquired what he bought whence shopping post berbuka earlier on this evening ? He mentioned ~baju cekak musang with all its attendant accessories but the songkok must be of normal height he further illuminated. The captivating dramatics that transpired when Papa made a courteous call to him just after berbuka. My salutations to you Pk Mi for being the foremost style conscious creature Papa had ever known. Although having a slightly challenging physique, Pk Mi knows how to dress, kudos to Pk Mi ever the effervescent ~ melayu baru ~ !!!

Selamat Hari Raya !!

Alas ! the fasting month is reaching its glorious conclusion and whence muslims of all persuasions celebrate a special and auspicious day. The 1st of Syawal, the aidul fitri, a day of victory. Thenceforth the joyous merry making in meetings of relations, neighbours and friends. The splendid yet much delectable cuisines, the unique concoctions of beverages together with desserts and quaint festive biscuits served. How have we all endured harsh heaty month. The dual against our basic nafsu along with the littlest trials and tribulations. Did we come out victorious ? Lest the hari raya to celebrate. Could it be not magnanimousto to not now pronounce the commensurate greetings and seeking of forgiveness on whats visible and not quite so.
SELAMAT HARI RAYA, MAAF ZAHIR BATIN... from non other than Papalados & family !!