A night out at Johnny Rocket

We seldom eat out. I love my wife's cooking and our home is far away from civilisation.
But when we do we do it big.
A few weeks ago we had dinner at Johnny Rocket in IOI Mall in Puchong. A nice place and a nicer gathering.
My eldest came home on Friday and we went there on a Sunday. With the help of Google Map, we reached there at 7pm. Therd is a symphony fountain next to it.
Wd did a little window shopping at the mall before sending my daughter home.
Should do this more often

Liang Batu: Memories flood in

The clinic is still standing but it has electricity and water supply

A villager I met during the visit. He remembered my mother very well

My late mother was a certified government midwife. Hajah Mahmor Ahmad was posted to a village not many knew back then called Kampung Liang Batu, with the villagers speaking with a melody that I mastered a long time ago.
It was in the early 60s and I was maybe 3 or maybe 4 back then. We were given a small sized one-bedroom government quarters, with a clinic attached to it where my mother would attend to pregnant women during daytime.
There was no piped water supply and electricity was unheard of then in the village.
Water was drawn from a well behind the clinic while at night, we used a gasoline lamp to light up the house.
No tv, just a small transistor radio for company. Life was simple then. Maybe too simple but we huddled together in the living room or the verandah.
I remember during the day,  I would be by her side predicting that this villager would get a boy or the other would get a girl and most of the my predictions came true much to the delight of the whole village.
My mother was given a transport in a form of a bicycle and she would cycle to houses of pregnant women for house calls.
Garbed in a white overall and a white cap to go with, my mother quickly made friends with the colourful characters in the village.
Among them was Pak Itam Daud, a man who owned a shotgun who threatened his enemies with "Aku tembok kau" (I will shoot you) but I don't remember anyone getting shot at.
Two of his sons were Talib and Shaari who would frequent our house to be with my eldest brother Zakaria while another was delivered by my mother.
Apparently, he owed my mother his life. The boy was breathless when he was delivered. There was a complication and the Muar hospital staff who were rushed to the village had told my mother to concentrate on his mother and left the lifeless baby alone.
But she was adamant that she could save the boy and told Pak Itam Daud to get a bottle of whiskey from a sundry shop nearby.
She then soaked the baby in the whiskey and he started to cry. The boy, Ahmad Jusoh, grew up and is now selling apam balik in Muar.
Then there was this village midwife we called Mak Ngah Gembin who also lived nearby.
I remember she had two daughters and they would frequent our house. And our next door neighbour was a rubber tapper. If I remember corectly, one of his sons married Mak Ngah Gembin's daughter.
The sundry shop beside the river was owned by a Chinese family. We would frequent the shop for groceries and one day the owner and my mother decided to play a prank on me.
He threatened to push my mother into the river and I was crying hysterically. Both of them then laughed but I was still sobbing.
The river flowed behind our house but luckily there was an undergrowth back then.
My mother would always tell us not to go to the river as it was crocodile infested anyway.
I remember then my three other siblings were sent to my uncles' houses to attend English schools in Muar town.
The other, Mariam, was taken care of by another uncle as the  couple had lost several due to illnesses.
My eldest brother who quit school at an early age stayed with us and so did my grandmother as my mother was already a single mother then.
During one of the fasting months in Liang Batu, I had a nasty cut on my forehead due to a fall. I was soaked in blood when my brother Zakaria picked me up and the scar stayed with me until now.
Once, I almost burned the whole house when I lit a whole box of matches. Luckily, a village girl who stayed with us as a nanny saw the incident and managed to put out the fire.
But I was without eyelashes and eyebrows for a long time!
And since my grandmother was staying with us, we had a steady flow of visitors from Muar.
One couple who frequented our house was my mother's cousin. the late Tan Sri Kadir Yusof, the country's first Law minister and his wife Tan Sri Fatimah Hashim, the country's first woman minister.
He would bring copies of the Straits Times and showed us pictures of him in the newspaper.
My first love with the newspaper.
I remember looking forward to school holidays when my three siblings would come home.
My brother Dolah used to bring me small figurines of the popular TV show Combat and we would play together.
At night, under the dim light from gasoline lamp, we would sit by the verandah listening music from a small transistor radio. Around us was total darkness but we were not afraid.
It was also in Liang Batu that my mother found her second love. Haji Musip Md Adin was a cabbie from Bukit Kepong, a village which was made popular by an incident where a band of communist had attacked the police station in the 50s.
She became his second wife and bore a child, my youngest sister Shidah.
The timeline in this article may not be accurate but the incidents and memories etched in me for the longest time.
I went back to the village several years ago and found nothing much has changed. Except maybe bigger houses with big cars lined up in the compound. Technology as caught up with them.
They are now connected via Whatsapp and Facebook. But the village remain laid back. The clinic is still there and a mansion was built next to it. Life certainly has changed.

Garden therapy for this amateur gardener

I like to think that I have green fingers, with everything I planted growing into nice plants. Well, almost.
My other half thinks so and so did my mother. With little time I have at home, I spend in the garden with my green kids.
I love to see blooming flowers and anything green. I love my garden and I take great care by pruning the grass myself.
Recently, I found a nursery in the neighbourhood and the owner, a sweet lady whom I call Kak Sari introduced me to many plants.
The rose plants I bought from her have been blooming non stop and the jermin plant has kept the mosquitoes at bay, both in the front and backyard.
I also have three pots of oregano plants which I got from my niece's mother in-law which keeps cats from pooing in the garden.
Just pluck a few leaves and spread them in the garden, so they say. So far, it has worked well.
Yam plants are planted under the staircase leading to the rooftop and the leaves have grown into giant sizes.
Recently, I threw slices of tomatoes into a pot and they have grown since then. Soon, I am going to have my tomatoes plucked from the kitchen window.
I also have a mango tree in the backyard which bears hundreds of fruits three times a year.
The last harvest however turned out bad. Hundreds of mangoes go to waste with some "donated" to the family of squirrels and the birds.
But the tree has become a respite from the heat. I sometimes sleep underneath the tree on a hammock, courtesy of my brother in-law from Terengganu.
I believe that whatever you give to earth is repaid in kind. You take good care of them and they will definitely make you happy.
Wanna get dirty? Go get a cangkul and start digging. Or play with the earth in pots with your kids.

Pleasing to the eyes, at least mine

Smells of ghosts at LPT2

The Lebuhraya Pantai Timur 2 (highway) is known to be an accident prone stretch. Accidents involving lives and limbs have occured once too often and many have pinned the blame on ghosts wandering in the area.
The government has however scoffed at the blame game and instead pointing fingers on motorists beating the speed limit as the road is said to be wavy but a straight stretch.
This was proven after police conducted a speed trap along the highway and caught them redhanded.
I am a careful driver or pemandu berhemah. Never the kind who will step on the accelerator even if there was no traffic.
But we had  a strange experience last March when we started journey back to Kuala Terengganu after midnight to reach KT before 8am.
Our boat to Pulau Kapas, a white sandy island off Marang, was to take off at 9am and so.....
I was in the cockpit with my son on my left. My wife took the middle row sit with my eldest while the youngest has booked the last row of our Naza MPV.
As soon as we passed through the first toll plaza, I could smell something bad lingering in the car. I have always been told by the elders not to question this.
But I forgot to tell my son of this taboo. And so he asked what's that smell. I told him it could be from the rubber plantation around us.
They dozed off with just me with my eyes wide open, accompanied by the music from the pen drive. The smell followed us to Kuantan but then it became fragrant.
I recited some doa but it kept following us.
We stopped by Kemaman toll plaza for a lick and told my wife to take over the wheel as I needed to take a nap.
She obliged but the smell disappeared.
As we reached the beautiful island, I told my family never to ask questions whatever happened next time.
We enjoyed our island trip and went home after 2pm, two days later. After several stops along the way, we reached home safely just after 8pm.
Were there ghosts or spirits? I don't know. Because I did not see any.

Pontianak runs amok

Continuing the ghost stories we had earlier, I would like to relate an incident which had occured way back in the 70s, soon after we moved into our house in Taman Sungai Abong, Muar, Johor.
The place was dark with no street lights although it was only a few kilometres away from Muar town, which also felt dead after 10pm.
But it was really a nice house, a double storey abode, made of wood and partly cemented wall with a small garden for us siblings to run around during the day.
But one fine day (or night as I remember it was a malam Jumaat), my cousin Ayem had gone with my mother to her brother's house in Parit Amal in his brand new mini cooper.
They reached home around midnight and my mom walked in first as Ayem decided to make sure his car was locked.
There was a big drain in front of the house with only a small bridge, fit only for human to cross.
Suddenly, we heard screams and laughters from the main road. Ayem rushed to the front door and quickly locked it from inside and ushered us to the top floor.
With a huge torchlight in hand, Ayem shone it towards a tree across the road where a woman in white was cradling a baby on top of it.
She kept laughing hysterically as we all watched in awe. After some time, she flew away leaving us gasping.
Oh my God, it was a pontianak (a ghost of a woman who died after birth), we all screamed.
My mother recited some prayers and for the next few days, the pontianak had landed on the roofs of the neighbours' houses, scratching furiously as if she wanted to come in.
A trishaw puller who was on his way home was chased after the ghost causing him to fall.
The sightings and sounds however stopped after sometime, probably due to prayers by the residents.
Soon, the road became deserted as youths decided to stay home instead of going for a movie or a date in Muar town.
Later, the then National Electricity Board installed street lights which could have help chase away the terrifying ghost.
Legend has it, pontianak would go for man, blamed for her death and that could have resulted in Ayem being chased.
Muar is now a bustling town and Sungai Abong has become alive with several factories and even government offices built there.
But our house was left unattended for the longest time. There is no way of restoring it. What's left are just fond memories

Haunted places, haunting memory

I am a writer. A journalist with the New Straits Times, the oldest in the country at 170.
Naturally, I write and now I edit. But my obsession with mysteries and ghosts and horror stories had brought me to some of the most haunted places in the country.
I spent several hours with colleagues at the ruins of Highland Towers, where 48 people were killed when one of the towers collapsed 22 years ago. Nothing unusual.
I spent overnight at Ayer Molek prison in a cell. Alone. I played the role of a prisoner and together with some 10 other reporters from other publications, we were assgiend to a night in solitary confinement.
There, right in front of me, the half filled plate rose above the floor and started swaying.
And toothpicks used by prisoners to hang their clothes, multiplied. The sound of a trolley passing under the small iron clad window was deafening in the middle of the night.
We were told to break the seal of our handphones and call the warden if we wanted out.
But, I did not. I wanted to complete the assignment.
I used the Nokia Communicator to snap pictures at random. And one of the pictures revealed a white shadowy figure squatting under the staircase outside the cell.
Unfortunately, I misplaced the photo and could not show you the evidence.
The following morning, one of the wardens who roughly handled my enrolment the day before, explained that outside my wall was a route for bodies to be wheeled out and no one had used the pathway when I was there.
Sound of water streaming under my thick, hard, cold floor was actually a river. Apparently, the prison was built more than a 100 years ago above a river.
Butvbefore I could leave hell, I had to clean the black bucket which I used to ease myself first.
That was scary but a very good experience.
Then I had ventured into an abandoned bungalow in Jalan Tenggiri, Bangsar in the 90s.
I used to pass by the house, abandoned for years, on my way home every night and I thought I saw a flickering light.
Thinking some addicts may have sought refuge. I told my editor I wanted to check it out.
But then, with my colleagues Yushaimi and Alina, we did not find evidence of anyone who had lived there.
It was clean but the thick dust in the house was evidence that no one had dared to go in.
My favourite spot was Kellie's Castle in Batu Gajah, Perak.
Built my Mr Kellie for his belved wife, the project was abandoned when his wife and son refused to come down to Malaysia. He died.
His spirit was spotted by many. But my visits to the huge mansion did not reveal anything out of the ordinary.
I was more intrigued with the design and thought that one day I wanted to build a mansion just like Mr Kellie's.
There are other haunted spots I would love to visit. Among them are Villa Nabila, Kemayan shopping complex and many bungalows were murders had occured.

Tol nak naik, tambang kenderaan awam pun naik

Sibuk betul pasal tol dah naik dan akan naik. Heran betul. Kereta semakin banyak, tapi tol nak naik jugak. Kununnya Plus mencatat keuntungan RM8 juta lebih sikit aje tahun lepas.
Memanglah over the years ada kenaikan gaji. Dulu baru mula2 pindah ke Bukit Beruntung tol lebih kurang RM3 aje. Naik gaji, tol pun ikut sama.
Mencanak2 naiknya. Tahan ke tidak, kena bayaq jugaklah.
Sepatutnya, bila kenderaan dah semakin banyak, toll semakin kuranglah. Ini tidak. Terbalik pulak.
Mengikut column Datuk Syed Nadzri dalam New Straits Times hari ni, Tan Sri Halim Saad pernah menyatakan hasrat nak ambik alih Plus dengan menjanjikan tiada kenaikan tol. tapi cadangan itu ditolak. Kenapa ekkkk?
Kata suruh melancong cuti2 1Malaysia. Camana ni?
Terima kasih jugak kepada Ketua Pemuda Umno Khairy Jamaluddin yang memohon kerajaan hentikan kenaikan tol, terutama North South expressway.
Diterima ke tidak, itu lain cerita.

Little abode, happy home

I have so many plans for this little haven. my home in Bukit Sentosa, adjacent to Bukit Beruntung. My initial plan was to turn it into a resort home look. But it was easier said than done. Then.
Later, I concentrated on the exterior. A lush garden (to my standard) was reduced to almost half when we started extending the interior a few years back.
But I managed to maintain the size by having a concrete ceiling and turned the rooftop into another hideout.

Currently, however, it is just a cemented area with a set of concrete gardening table and chairs. Plants die fast up there as it is quite hot during the afternoon. But come morning and evening, the place is quite cool.
I may want to lay artificial grass to cover the cement that has grown dark over the years. Or lay tiles on it. But with a proper cover so that we can enjoy the evening comfortably.
Several plug points should be installed and maybe some strong weathered plants around it.
But whatever plan I can think of now will have to wait to at least June. Why? Coz, my life saving can only be withdrawn then.
This will be the final renovation we are going to have. After that, it is all maintenance. Money and opportunity are scarce nowadays. And I need a sizeable portion of it for investment to sustain for the rest of my life.
The investment must be genuine and not with fly by night business model. Or else I will be flying along with them.

Now that I have more time in the morning (as I have 101 shifts), I spend most of the time tending to my plants and taking care of a pet iguana, a gift from my son recently.
If I happen to work in the morning shift, it will be after work then.
Six months to go to have the first taste of my "forced" savings. Yeay....God willing

Attention Facebook friends

I love Facebook. It is much better than the other social network like Instagram or twitter in terms of interaction with your friends although I am also connected via the other two.

I love to interact with my friends and family members on Facebook as most of those I know have an account.

I started facebooking in 2008 and have been very active since then. You can comment and even like an entry and my postings are normally personal in nature. No politics, no badmouthing anyone.

Sometimes however, when I am really annoyed over anything, I would pour my heart out. It is up to my contacts to agree or disagree.

I have only 205 twitter friends and 193 followers on Instagram but almost 1k friends on Facebook.

It could easily double if I had accepted every request. But I prefer to have a small circle of Facebook friends whom I can interact regularly.

I am a member of Bukit Sentosa Bukit Beruntung Residents group and I have found new friends.

They sell almost everything. One of them provides a door to door photo printing service, while another runs a nursery online.

A large number of them sell foodstuff which can be delivered right to your doorstep. How convenient.

A large collection of photographs is kept on Facebook and I sincerely hope Facebook will last forever.

For Umno, the show goes on

Umno General Assembly is back. For the 69th time. I have been to countless assemblies and apart from several misses, when I was transferred to Klang and Johor Baru, I don't remember when I had missed the assembly.

This time we were told it will be different. The deputy president will not be giving a speech at the opening of the respective Wings.

And Tan Sri Muhyiddin will not be giving a winding up speech as well for reasons everyone should have known by now.

But everyone can expect the pantun, the jokes and of course the food at the media centre to be as per normal.

It will be awkward for TS Muhyiddin to be there. And so is Dr M's presence. But the show must go on.

I remember vividly when Dr M decided to break the news that he was quitting on stage. I was there in the media centre and I rushed up to the packed hall. Non members were told to leave but I hid behind the seats and listened and saw what was happening on stage.

I was representing the Malay Mail then. MM as usual was only looking for side stories and the main menu was not our concern. It was the the NST and The Star and the array of Malay newspapers.

But that was the story of the day.

I first covered Umno GA for the NST in 2008 for www.nst.com.my. But this year, it is for main paper.

Hope it is gonna be smooth this time. But you can expect fireworks for sure.

Back to Newsdesk but still with Sunday Times

I am listening to the soothing song Semalam by Sean Ghazi as I sit in my "cybercafe" at home. No hustle bustle of the office, no laughter, no cries. No screams from the children too. Eldest is at work, my second is in Segamat and my youngest in still in bed, taking advantage of the two-day haze break.

Too quiet. Overlooking the "cybercafe" is a neatly trimmed garden. I had to leave it to Subaiah, the grasscutter to do the job this time. I want to saviour this eight-day break, after a three-month stint as the caretaker editor of New Sunday Times.

Before I go back to the grind at the Newsdesk. I am still overseeing New Sunday Times with Selvi and Faridul, so they say, on top of the Newsdesk stint.

It was a tiring three months, churning out assignments for the five writers, clearing copies, checking pages and on Saturdays, become OC1. This time, I will alternate with Selvi and later with Faridul to do OC1 work on Saturdays.

It was fun though. Received kind words from the readers, friends and sometimes bosses on the product. All these made my day on Mondays.

Hopefully, I can escape the Saturday OC job more often now, which I have not enjoyed for the past six months, missing out gatherings, weddings (a blessing in disguise!) and lepak2 with the family....

Off to New Sunday Times

From Online to Offline

After a gruelling 26 months at the NSTOnline, I was transferred to New Sunday Times, a place I was familiar with.

It was gruelling alright, never had a good night sleep, waking up in the middle of the night to update stories, leaving home after Subuh to be in the office, never had a chance to leave my handphone unattended etc etc.

Now, my "gruelling time" is every Saturday. After a relatively calm period for about two months, I am now the caretaker editor of New Sunday Times, as soon as Hamidah Atan left the building on June 30.

I have been the OC1 for three publications, going on four. So far, it has been good except for minor mistakes, that may have been caused by the "printer's devil".

Mistakes that cannot be spotted despite rigorous checks by seasoned editors, hence the name.

Will continue to work hard and improve on the product. As long as I am here

A fairly good weekend

It was a fairly good weekend. I was off on Friday (Jan 30, 2015) and it was a busy day. Going to two banks to pay off my monthly instalments after Friday prayers and stopped over at the laundromat to dry two baskets of clothes.

Stopped by a hardware shop to get some wood. Need to practise my skills in carpentry but have yet to start working on a real project.

Just before Maghrib, picked up my daughter at school and cooked simple dishes for dinner.

No time to sleep although I took 40 winks at the laundromat.

The following day, we went to Hakim's restaurant, Enaaq, for lunch. It was marred by unnecessary jam at the Plus highway but the good food made it forgot about it.

Then we went to Chawan in Bangsar to meet Suhaimi and wifey to collect my sambal hitam, imported from Muor.

A short trip to Czip Lee and Bangsar Village before we went home.

Another day without an afternoon nap.

On Sunday, after lunch, the eldest took the youngest to work. They came home around 9. Went around the neighbourhood after sending my office attire for ironing.

Back to work today

Liang Batu where only the innocent ones live here

Liang Batu is a place I cannot forget. I grew up there for maybe a year or so. It was an Ulu place where my mom was posted as a midwife.

Flooding with memories

We were just lucky that our house in Muar was never hit by flood, although Jalan Sungai Abong was inundated a few times.
But when I was a reporter with The Malay Mail, I was awaken by the sound of the pager at almost 2am to call office immediately.
I rushed out to the public phone in front of the house in Jalan Chenderai, Lucky Garden and was told to go with a photographer to Hulu Langat which was flooded.
I always had a torchlight ready and we went there in a crime car. I could have just stayed on the higher ground while the pixman (I don't remember who) waded through the water to take pictures.
But that was just not me. I went in and waded together. The water was waist high and I interviewed the villager who lamented that water came gushing in as most of them were in bed.
It was drizzling and they suspected the water from the dam was released.
Went back to the office, took off my wet sneakers and filed in my story at about 4am, in my wet pants. We were literally shivering.
I left office about 5.30am and after a quick bath, went to bed. Woke up at 9 and back to work as usual.
That was my only encounter with flood. But the on-going flood in Terengganu and Kelantan was not just flood. It is mud flood and along with it, are various diseases like e.coli. Even the PM is not spared.
Let's hope that the reporters who travelled  by boats and not cars are spared from major diseases. I fear leptospirosis.
And let's pray there will no longer be calamities.