THE MANY FACETS OF KARAOKE

Papa eased the bit more on the accelerator upon seeing the yellow lights about to change to red. As he had to make a U Turn at the traffic lights ahead, papa kept, to the right, of the road. It was, at the twenty five to thirty odd meters, until reaching the junction, that the Prince, gestured at papa, his finger pointing to the right, at where The Club Extravaganza, was located. Since he was still on the phone talking to a friend recently acquainted through the internet, Prince could not interject words, along with, his quite ‘vigorous’ gesticulation. Papa too could not really took eyes his away from staring into the windscreen, as the car ahead, could stopped, anytime soon. Beside, his, eyes, were not like, what they were before.
Having executed, the U Turn, and the left turning, ten or twenty seconds after, that papa, understood, what, The Prince, was trying to convey. The club was dark, with none, of any, visible lightings, in front of it. It was quite strange, as it was a Saturday night and only eleven something in the evening. To say that, it was unexpectedly closed, could not be, that bit true, as there, were the, significant number, of people, outside, together with the visible few, going in and out of the dance hall. A sudden dread hit papa, there could be the authorities making a surprise visit upon the establishment and unkel and lanchapap were already inside or that was, what unkel said, he was going to be, the last they spoke over the phone of which was about half an hour ago. The thought of the good unkel having to squat on the floor together with the other patrons whilst having their urines tested for illicit drugs by police lab technicians somehow struck the rather comical note, deep within papa’s inconsequential being. He felt like laughing.
However, papa did call unkel, to inquire, about what, had really transpired. It turned out, that he and lanchapap, did not, even venture, near the club, as it was, in the quite same ‘state of affairs’, when they appeared, about half hour past. They did harbor, quite the similar foreboding, not unlike papa, when they saw the ‘out of the ordinary’ occurrence, outside the night- spot, the furtherance of which lead them to sit it out, nearby, at one, of the few eating stalls, until papa and the prince arrived.
It was, a much animated, Lanchapap, expounding the likely scenario should one be caught in the ‘dancing or singing away without a care in the world’ whence the authorities come a checking situation. “First they will consign you, a plastic container, of which, could, be safely fastened- for you- to deposit, your: urine” said Lan. “Having; passed the container, back to them, the technicians will insert something into it and the result would come out, the immediate after”, continued a nonchalant albeit smug Lanchapap. “Been through it a couple of times, no big deal” he further remarked. But not for the unkel Nyel, he would, not want, even though, not at all, a drug addict, to be caught dead, in such, a ‘precarious, cum discomforting- situation’. The reason, he quite earnestly suggested the club Santana to be their next destination, discounting altogether, Seri Mutiara, as, in all likelihood, could, very well be, the Authorities, next stopping place, for the night. Considering, that the rest of the grouping may not have the budget for Santana, unkel must be, the most likely, one, willing, to underwrite everything, for that particular nocturnal ramble.
Mummy Mimi was on her coffee break when the four compatriots stood in front of the counter of The Karaoke Lounge Santana, eyes ogling at the attractive albeit a bit mature receptionist sitting behind it. The, foursome did not, really, mention anything, having received, the reply from, the quite appealing Lady, when papa asked for Mimi, earlier on. Upon noticing, the rather befuddled, look on their faces, the unhesitating hostess, immediately suggested the Three Has Been and the one, bit younger fellow, go sit in the karaoke room until Mimi returns from her break.
It was at this particular point in time, whilst making their way to the room ushered by none other than the pretty hostess that unkel noticed Natasha, seductively sitting, on a sofa, on the left, of the front hall. He did smile at her but she just stared emptily back. Papa also, saw her. Howsoever thinking that a tall good- looking fashion model look alike not unlike Natasha must already have been booked and in all probability was sitting out waiting for her regular guest. He gave no further thought to that notion.
A different Mummy entered the room, vociferating that Mimi was still not back yet and she will attend to any requests with respect to any GRO s that the group would want to book for the night. Papa inquired about the particularly sultry one sitting outside just the moment ago but she said to, pick and choose from the four or five she had arranged outside the room and waiting all set and pretty along the corridor. One by one they paraded in, with the Mummy citing their names after each one has committed the sort of mandatory comely smile together with subtle ‘wiggling’ of the hips in the midst of the model like stride. Papa tried as he may, just could not recall any of the girls’ names but he distinctly remembered the first one to venture into the room- she was Natasha. Taking heed of unkel’s eyes lighting up a little more than usual when Natasha entered, he immediately exclaimed “the first girl or number one” to the Mummy, after, all the parading Hostesses, have shown themselves.
She casually strolled into the room and as if by instinct sat beside Lanchapap. It would not be that bit surprising for everybody except for the fact that she, sort of, snuggled up to the chapap’s namesake immediately upon placing herself beside him. It could have been that Lan was visibly the youngest in the group therefore psychologically perhaps she was able to identify better with him. The rest would be the father or even the grandfather figure to her. She was truly the novice in the business. Howsoever papa would not give a rat ass, he yanked her from Lan whence Unkel and Prince sang a catchy slow latin like number and his legs would not take it anymore, he had to dance the characteristic slow cha-cha. Surprising Natasha was able to reciprocate the difficult maneuver, making papa- that much elated. It was, at this, juncture, that, he, being, not three inches from her that he noticed the real face beneath the makeup.
He had to ask albeit the much more subtle and velvety- her age. She instantly responded by confidently citing the numbers twenty- one, papa would have believed her if not for the prominent ‘puppy fat’ festooned upon her teenaged features. Twenty- one is the legal age limit but she must only be eighteen or nineteen the most.
Papa could not, dance anymore, it was like cavorting with a grandniece. He immediately excused himself, citing his bladder was full and had to go to the toilet. Ah! The Men’s room, papa just had to go see, and, how strange it was. What was with the ubiquitous bowl but this time the appropriate size and properly installed height wise albeit for man’s small business only. There was not available, the W C, but a tiled platform for showering but no curtains or even a shower head present. Things do get curiouser and curiouser as regards the facilities in Santana.
Having relieved- himself, papa sat beside unkel mail, as if sensing the tenacity of the situation with respect to Natasha only attending to Lan and not anyone else, unkel asked papa to inquire about booking yet one more GRO but this time the more mature one. Since Mimi was already in the room, papa only had to whisper it to her and she completely understood.
In walked Ziera: thirty something but the quite early or middle part, she instantaneously greeted everybody, imparting repartees at the same time. Unkel and The Prince were truly delighted, Papa too- obviously. Lan and Natasha did not even notice, they were engrossed with their mushy- mushy conversation. The Prince was, all this time left to himself cowering right at the end of the semi sphere like seating arrangement, bewildered at Lan’s complete disregard of any etiquettes, should there be any, even if, in an informal situation. What was he to say anyway since unkel, the obvious one underwriting everything was not even the slight perturbed, on the outset that is, but the Prince being of exceptional pedigree did not at all mind. He was happy to sing and to make merry regardless of any tenuous circumstances. As for Lan, could not blame him really, he was the younger fellow and the girl did come to him. He was not unlike the macho chap, of whom, would like to show off, his prowess amongst, the fairer- sex. He did have a reputation, mostly with, wide- eyed lassies recently arrived from villages or small towns all over Malaysia, but not, papa dare say, the street- smart ones, no matter their ages.
Ah! Again, what can papa say about the affable Ziera except that, she was truly wonderful and absolutely- fabulous. She, danced with, everybody, armed at all times with her infectious smile and sang heartily any songs chosen by unkel and The Prince. Except that she sort of stick strictly to the conventions not really wanting to experiment with the four step formula resulting in her cha-cha steps seemed rigid and much less fluid. Howsoever there was that something about Ziera that papa could not really reconcile with the accepted norms as regards GRO s be it dangdut or karaoke. Papa’s World view- if one will. She was that little bit extra happy or contented- should the word be appropriate. There was that peculiar serenity about her that somehow, seemed to be anachronistic, if compared to the rest of the girls, holding Hostesses positions- ever more so. Of whom, are mostly divorcees not discounting the few widows should, there be any. She was not unlike a happily married woman and a beamish Housewife. There were not, the lines nor the tensions in her face. Well if the spouse is agreeable and one knows one’s limit along with the quintessential excess ‘bucks’ earned, papa could not really comment could he. F…..k you papa, just keep your comments to yourself and you know where to shove them. Up, your, stinking a…e. All, in all, it was just papa’s unique disposition as an old hand particularly so in K L’s dangdut and karaoke sphere. He has been around for too long.
Well it was, closing time, already, the bills, have been, paid and time to go home but instead of four patrons making their way to the car park there were the two extra persons, two pretty girls. Lanchapap offered to send Tasha home, she said yes but conditional upon her inviting her room mate- Melissa- along. So it, were, the six of them sitting around a table at Rasa Sayang Nasi Kandar Restaurant for late supper the while later, upon Unkel’s unrelenting ‘insistence’ quite of course. The girls were strangely quiet talking albeit intermittently with Lan only, they could not really join the seniors conversation as they mostly touched upon Angioplasty, open heart and by passes, instigated mostly by the good unkel. Kind of a bit macabre do you, not think?
And So: it was, the end to a memorable evening, according to papa’s line of thinking that is, but not really, for there were the other elements, that did not really fit in during the evening but the day later. Papa called unkel just to say hello and to talk a bit about the evening before. It was at this juncture that unkel mentioned about Lanchapap passing him Natasha’s number and his meaning unkel’s intention of asking her out on a date later on. He also related the events after supper when the four of them were in the car on the way to the girls’ place of stay. Melissa, being the more cheerful girl, was chirping away, like a bird, surprisingly, even, teasing, the two compatriots albeit naughtily. It was, in the midst, of the lighthearted banter, that she cited her and Tasha’s willingness to ‘follow’ unkel and lanchapap just about anywhere they would want to go.
That particular statement seemed to have jolted Unkel. It gave him ideas. The girls were that amiable plus quite willing to accompany should they be invited, leading to the question as to what they really want in return. Unkel surmised money to be the proverbial oil to grease the unremitting gears and cogwheels. Perhaps, a little of negotiations or runding, to arrive at, the most, favorable- amount. Well, it was all up to unkel really, he has the aphoristic fat wallet and pretty much the lone ranger, being the ever most bachelor boy with none whatsoever of ‘familial commitments’. Lan on the other hand was actually the sort of ‘procurer’ for unkel. His duty was to chat up the girls and to strategize together the further actions to, be, taken having been successful in the ‘initial’ mission. A bit of a military precision in that but at most times did not work out as planned, knowing unkel’s infamous staying power that could only last the good part of a week and lan being too scared of the little woman. The story was Lan and Unkel did not even go up to the girls’ flat upon sending them home as Lan needed to be back before the missus wakes up around about five in the morning and unkel was as ever in no ‘proverbial’ hurry. If that was, the game, they like to play, so be it, it was their money anyway. The, Wily- Unkel: Even the, uncalled for, dangdut sage was fooled. Then again it would have been better this way would not it, as papa, would, from time to time - reiteratively- highlight, to, HRH The Prince fellow, i.e, to only look albeit innocently at just the ‘human face’ behind dangdut and karaoke, avoiding at all times its dreadful components. We would all be better to stomach things then. Better this way. Better this way! Wallahualam. God knows.

ROCK SAMPAI MATI ( ROCK TILL DEATH )

HRH, The Prince Fellow, called papa, not three minutes away, before reaching, the petrol station, where they are supposed to meet. He mentioned, albeit, the slightly uneasy tone, that he was feeling, the bit uncomfortable, and really had to visit the bathroom, before going out that night, so he asked for the odd five minutes in addition to the eleven thirty pm agreed time. Papa said OK, since there was not actually the ‘all important’ hurry anyway. Come, to think, of it, The Prince, does at times, suffer from, this spasmodic, holiday tummy syndrome. Must have been the one too many goreng pisangs (banana fritters) he had earlier on.
Whilst waiting for the good prince, papa had a good listen to the non- stop cha- cha cassette tape he bought in Muar the week back. It was, in a clearance stock, or rather the clearing for ever sale, put up by a music shop, situated on the first floor of Wetex Parade, the famous shopping complex there. Considering, cassettes are quite the obsolete thingy nowadays, the sale could be the last of any- likely to be found- anywhere. It was then, that a catchy number, came up, sung in what, could be, construed as, Spanish- that veritably, took papa away, from his ‘gaze out of the window’ state. It, was the, song ‘Sway’ sung, in its original, Latin derived configuration, ala Mexico speak and the title must only be Quien Sera, as it was uttered the more than a few times in the song. Wonder if the Good Don Diego could translate the meaning for papa, can it be somewhat similar to Que Sera- Sera, whatever, will be, will be?
Papa’s early 2001, stock Proton Iswara, seems to, shudder a bit, having been, stationery, with the engine running- for a good seven to ten minutes, when papa, noticed from, his rear view mirror, the recognizable, silhouette, of The Prince emerging from, the side, of a, dimly lit building, fronting, the ubiquitous, four storey apartments, located, albeit, partly visible, behind it.
It was hardly the two minutes that they had, driven into, the direction of Jalan Ipoh and The Club Extravaganza that The Prince related a beguiling incidence just the afternoon ago. There was, at his, apartment, just before noon, his neighbor’s daughter- wedding reception, The Prince, who, had just, got back, from his niece’s solemnizing ceremony, or the exchanging of marriage vows, earlier in the morning, put off, till, the bit later, in the afternoon, he and the missus, quite mandatory, attendance of his fellow dweller’s formalities. It was, during his short rest, in the house, that he heard, the noticeably, lively singing, emanating from, the ground floor, of the, apartment building. Immediately, he took, a peep from the topmost floor, where, his unit, is situated, and, saw, for that fortuitous moment, a wheelchair bound- older person, anomalously adorning, a peculiar like, shoulder length hair, plus, slipping on, howbeit unconcernedly, the trademark, even though, fashionable, tattered jeans, topping with, a chalky white, round neck T- shirt. He could be in the late fifties if not going sixty of age- presumably. The prince could not be that sure, as he was quite that high up, on the fourth floor, but for, the fact, that the, old chap’s flowing hair was all silver, his estimate, could not be, that far off.
He, was making, his way, to the Karaoke machine, after being, called, by the D J, due to, the current singer, about to, finish his turn. The fact, that the fellow, was pushed to, the rostrum, by a pre- school aged, little boy, somehow adds, the much poignancy, exacerbated, all the more, by the, quaint possibility, that the child, could be, his grandson.
He chose the song ‘Kamelia’, popularized, in Malaysia, by the country’s own, Papa Rock or Ramli Sarip, being, the senior crooner's, much recognisable, appellation. Complete by even imitating the good Papa Rock’s signature coarsely voice, the 'ageing rocker' heartily belted out the number until the enormously, penultimate portion when he hollered ‘ROCK SAMPAI MATI OR ROCK TILL DEATH’, much to the amusement, of the audience. The deafening catcalls and heavy clapping, afterwards, belies the fact that the appreciative crowd, consists mostly, of wedding guests. It, must be, said, that the chap could be at the zenith of his existence then, but to repeat it again, anywhere else, is quite contentious, considering his quite 'poorly' state: HA- HA- HA! He might not be around for very long. God Forbid.

THE LOGICAL CONSEQUENCE

It has finally happened, just as what was predicted or rather the veritable as, yet, logical consequence, to things, even though, tried, as, he may, by papa, that is, to ignore the natural progression of events. The, quaint sentimentality, of, an old fool, thinking, albeit fantastically, that, there is, the little, bit of, sacredness, still left, in the world, notwithstanding, the abysmal, state, of denial, that, he was, luxuriating in.
After, the few, 'genial', phone conversations, they had-Yvette, altogether, stopped, answering, his call, nor his sms, it had, caught up, with her, the realization, that papa, is not going to see her in Santana, neither, so soon, nor, that often, The, truth being, papa, did not, possess that aphoristic fat wallet, as she had hoped. He is just, the next, to nobody, ordinary bloke, trying, to make ends meet, quite like the many expressionless faces she sees each and everyday traversing up and down any main street around K.L.
Not to, blame, her, really, as, it is really the name of the game, quite so, amongst the karaoke workers. To ensnare the big fish, the one, who would not mind, booking you, for, any, length, of time, and at, any, which day, be it, happy hours or otherwise, one: who, could, even make, an, honest woman, out of you- meaning; the GRO, of course.
Provided the car, the apartment and the ample bank account are, already displayed, and, duly, handed over, whence, the, body and soul, have been, surrendered to, the one, having, the big cash. Well, if she is happy, being party to that peculiarly, ‘less, than ideal, situation’- why, in, heavens- not? Come to think of it, things, could not, really be that bit, too perfect- could it. Different strokes for different folks- if you will.
If that’s the case, then papa must only be elated for Petite Yvette, all, in all, for being, that much focused and perfectly sure of what she wants and the word, is quite, as eternally, the very much relevant, along with, the exceedingly albeit quintessentially, what, every woman, would pretty much desire: security.
On, the other, hand, papa can only, offer friendship and his astronomically ‘hopeless’ golfing. Yvette has already, too, many friends, of, whom most, did not, really share, her ‘dispassionate’ zeal for golf. She, only, plays it, as her, boss asked her to, and strictly, as a marketing tool for her day job. But then again, what could be the fuss really. Papa, has only, met her once, all, the more, leading to the 'sensible conclusion' that there, verily, could be, no issue here. If not for the odd hour and a half if not two plus quarter, he sings with her at Santana Karaoke Lounge- papa could, very well, be, the ‘perfect stranger’ to her. Must, have been, the proverbial, ‘predicament’, of a writer, embellishing things, to make, his story, the bit, more- interesting.