Looking At The Same Sun

The ascending winding road was very tempting especially if you are cruising with a 3.0 liter, mega turbo-intercooler machine. Unfortunately, my temptation was contained as I crawled up sluggishly with my 1.6 liter underpowered Getz. Still, I could hear my tires screeched as I navigate passed the sharp bends, swaying myself in ecstasy behind the wheel – perhaps the closest feeling to ever be my kampung version of Karamjit Singh (Malaysian-own rally driver).

The moment I exit the Simpang Pulai road, the fresh Cameron air and the lush green valleys greeted me at every turn. When William Cameron discovered in what he described as the “plateau with gentle slopes shut in by loftier mountains” in 1885, I did not think he would imagined that it would transformed to be this astounding. From the high land past Brinchang, squared tents of strawberry farms blanketed the valley, strings of Land Rovers passed by, carrying loads of colorful flowers and vegetables. The valleys covered with neatly trimmed tea plantation, perhaps looked better than my overgrown messy hair. Among other list of aphrodisiacs for nature-loving tourists - rose gardens, cactus valleys and waterfalls.

A friend directed me to a spot where I should be at dawn. Shivering in the cold morning breeze, my friend would be pleased to hear me freezing to death and so close to suffer from hyperthermia. Stroking my arms to keep warm, I waited for the sun to reveal herself, patiently. Slowly, the wave of light crawled in between the gloomy valleys; bringing life back to what seemed so dull and dreary. Like a pleasant jolt, it shook me up from “sleep” as the first ray of light slapped on my face. The sun dared me to stare at her and I took the challenge. It was painfully blinding at first, but as my eyes adjusted, she simply looked gorgeous. Gradually, the glow warmed up my ears and certainly, every brave heart bold enough to take on her at first sight.

So many hearts, so many minds but wherever we roam, we are still looking at the same sun…

Losing Marbles

In this fast moving world, we often lose track of the things that symbolizes our roots, our notable pedigree, our culture. And those that still unfailingly practice the inherited custom more often than not, be seen as strange people who had lost their marbles. Over the weekend, I had to be the host for these ‘strange’ people whom, I was informed beforehand, had an interest on my female cousin. They came to merisik – the custom that I understand but have no idea how it is done.

Merisik – not to be confused with spying or any espionage activities, actually means a custom where the man’s family meets the woman’s family to submit their interest to embark on a more serious relationship between the man and woman. It is the first step, which eventually leads them towards engagement and finally, marriage.

Seated in semi-circle, an old man, in his 60s perhaps, broke the silence with the salam and stunned everyone with a pantun –a type of rhyme in Malay. Despite the hoarse voice, he uttered words that sounded so gentle, cheery, wisely-phrased but direct.

60’s datuk: … ingin kami bertanya, adakah bunga ditaman sudah berpunya? (to seek if the lady is currently attached to anyone)

The datuk was throwing or more appropriately, “selling” the pantun to our side of which we (by no choice) have to “buy” by responding to his inquiry, preferably in pantun or anything that rhymes, except rapping.

The family spokesperson: …hati ini satu, dan belum terikat mahupun dimiliki (saying that the lady is available and not attached to anyone).

From thereon, they exchanged hantarans (gifts)and began to discuss on future arrangements i.e. engagement, marriage. It is indeed a very delicate ceremony. Both sides being very tactful in “tricky” situations with continuous exchanges of pantuns, minding every word spoken, every act performed. Yet, laughter filled the air, with typical sarcastic jokes on polygamy, Samy Vellu and how to plant seedless durian. ‘Strange’ people? Yes, they are still.