On the eve of Merdeka

I wrote this entry on the eve of Merdeka, two years  back  and never bothered to post it  until today. It  never ceases to amaze me how time really flies....

Today I multi-tasked between casually watching the evening Mandarin edition of local news over RTM2 and folding my pile of laundry at the living room sofa when the newscaster read a report about two Malay students who spoke in fluent Mandarin of their desires to further their studies in some  universities in China.  I admire these young kids who have, unlike a minority of certain shallow-minded people, chosen to look beyond race  and religion  to come to appreciate the language of other races  in such fervor and enthusiasm. I am proud of them, really.

It also reminded me of a former colleague from years back who is a US graduate who doesn’t speak Mandarin who when asked why simply blurted out `I don’t like Mandarin! ’ . I remember myself protesting silently as to why she didn’t even bother to exert a little effort to learn about her own culture and speak her own tongue when the very fact is she’s a true blood Chinese. 

But I digress.

If only we as a nation and our leaders especially can stop talking about all the supremacy and special privileges accorded to certain groups at the same time finding solutions to put a stop instead of adding fuel to the small racial bush fires that have already been ignited sometimes ago (our leaders do that quite often, consciously or subconsciously, in their political speeches) and cease stressing a point as to imply race and religion being the prime dividing line between you and me, then we can certainly co-exist in peace and harmony, away from  all the deep hatred and persistently frustrating confrontation and bitter aggression which is slowly, if left attended, becoming the representation of who we exactly are to the world outside.     

My great grandmother of Bajau descent who had lived up to a ripe 104 years old and was a very devout Muslim who preached her children to practice simplicity in life and kindness and generosity to humanity. She and my late great grandfather who was a Buddhist lived harmoniously under one roof. (my father said cooking was done separately with my great grandmother using her own utensils to prepare her halal meals). On the other hand, her daughter i.e. my paternal grandmother in her life time was very faithful to Tuah Peh Kong (heavenly God) and worshipped Guan Yin Ma (the Compassionate Bodhisattva) whom I fondly remember as a very kind and gracious lady who liked to wear kebayas  and had more Malay friends to play tokok and angtiam (a card game) with than she had Chinese, and Malay neighbors and friends were among those who wept openly like they grieved over the passing of a loved one in the family, when they attended her funeral in the village. 

My great grandmother name was inscribed as Siti Jelih binti Datu Lidau on her tombstone. Whereas my grandmother’s Muslim name was  Siti binti Lim Hap, as written in her birth cert.

Now my cousin Danny Affendy Teo who married a Christian woman but subsequently converted to Islam on his own will  has since pursued his faith with deep interest and spirituality, once earnestly discussing with us verses from the Holy Quaran, comparing certain chapters with the Holy Book Bible. When I dropped by in the small  town of Bongawan and asked what was the white flowing garbs hanging on a cloth line for, he told me it was a Muslim prayer outfit to be worn by him when performing prayers in the mosque.  During Chinese  New Year Muslim and Christian friends and relatives congregated at our village home in a spirit of celebration and togetherness and on Hari Raya we sometimes followed our cousins to the Muslim cemetery to pay our respect to our ancestor, and visited a Chinese relative who upon marrying a Muslim man had converted to the faith wearing the tudung, and this coupled with  her features and dark skin tone would have people mistaken her as a Malay woman. 

The issue of race was not in the mind of an old Malay woman, a friend of my father in the village, when she leaned down to give me a tender kiss on the forehead while I lied in the hospital bed  recovering from  a car  accident  more than a decade  ago.

Nor was race a barrier when an elderly Malay lady gave me a warm motherly hug just for showing her how to take the lift in a hospital to get to her grand daughter who was being warded on another floor.

Race and religion have never been a taboo subject for us, nor would it interfere with and inconvenience our daily routines in life.  But maybe is the case for an exceptional few. Just maybe.

Or so I would like to believe.

Just like a group of Indian, Malay, Kadazandusun and Chinese all having a cup of kopi-o in their favourite coffee shop with the Chinese tauke warmly engaging them in a friendly conversation about the weather, the price hike of a kilo of sugar or the result of a football match or  even dirty politics. Issues like race and religion were thrown to the dark back alley of the kopitiam  because what matter to them is the rich aromatic smell of the kopi-o kau and the warmth companionship of friends of different  colors and faiths, the reason for them to keep coming back again, and again…

To them, since when does the issue of race and religion becoming an issue, really?

For me, it’s just this political mind-game conceived by certain unscrupulous quarters with some ulterior motives in order to stir a little chaos in the lives of the inter-racial community as well  as to garner popularity votes  so as to win the big race to gain the ultimate power and influence over the entire nation.. 

A son of my cousin, a Muslim convert, `merenjis air bunga mawar' on the `pusara' of  my late great grandmother .

Papa & aunt from Ranau with her daughters at the `pusara' two years back.

My late great grandmother  Siti Jelih binti Datu Lidau

My late grandmother (on the front) Siti Binti Lim Hap,

            and with her grandchildren.


P/S : On the eve of merdeka, I am recovering from food poisoning (the constant episodes of vomiting and diarrhea have made me ponder about  suffering and the importance of good health and how we normally only come to treasure it only when we are losing it, even for momentary time  period of two days), but my spirits are high and I have things and little goals to accomplish ahead and I am not letting the small discomforts to stop me from radiating positive energy from within.  I am a happy person right this moment (smile).   

Happy Merdeka Day to my beloved homeland, you have so many flaws  and too much negativity  have been uttered about you, but I love you nonetheless….