And the award goes to...!
Kim Soon Ae aka Mariam Johari hails from Kota Tinggi. The mother-daughter-woman in me bleeds everytime I read her story. The biscuit-promise part, the longing-for-a-hug part. Oh-my! Can someone please tell Erma-Ummi to do a movie on Tok Mariam instead of on the famous meat-cutter-bomoh? The bomoh is from where again? Perak? Not Kota Tinggi, you mean?
The foetus whose mother stole the sultan’s jackfruit for, was supposedly found nibbling on the fruit when her mother’s womb was cut open. And its father must kill the sultan while the sultan was carried in his full royal splendour on the pedestal, no less. And the sultan’s curse must continue on for generations after generations. This must happen in Kota Tinggi.
My grand-grandmother was married at least 7 times. One of her husbands was a royal from Sumatera. One an Arab royal. True she was from Bunut Susu of Kelantan. But since after her first marriage, she moved to Kota Tinggi and that was where she lived till the day she died.
Her arab daughter aka my grandmother, lost her husband to a ‘perempuan-kabaret’, no less. Couldn’t the other woman just be someone who worked as tukang jahit in town, or maybe just guru kelas dewasa? No. She had to be from the cabaret. The smallest of waist, the highest the pointiest of corset and she was supposedly the best dancer in the whole town and beyond too, but of course (the movie Red Kebaya reminded me of her, hehehe). And in wanting to stop the fightings, my mother – who was little then, had to smash a glass and took the trouble to collect all the pieces, put them in a glass, pour water in it and what else, gulped it down. Infront of her parents, what else. It worked. The fights did stop but it ended after he left the house. For good. Kota Tinggi. Must you wonder?
Who can blame them? My grandmother was the bangsawan star in her time. Enough said.
(Disclaimer – no offense Tok Nah & Tok Cik, I absolutely love both grandmothers. One adamantly refused to teach me zapin and the other said I don’t need acting lessons from her since I am already so gifted, hehehe..)
My grandfather was a writer. And we all know how writers exaggerate! 'Beautiful eyes' not enough, only a non-writer would put it that way - plain equals to boring. A writer would say something about the saucer-sized eyes, with the black the blackest of black, and with such depth enough to drown 10 people in at one go, plus they got sparkle sparkle some more, and lashes so long so curled they look like the cow’s eyes!
Bloggers are worse, I know! What I need is just one grain of salt and I can create oceans from it. Like right now. Not that we write lies. No, I NEVER told a lie in all the 27 years that I have roamed the earth. NEVER.
We seem to have such penchant for drama. Like Italians and their famous operas, we seem to thrive on tragedies and heartaches. Let me not start on the dramas of my cousins, aunties, uncles etc. Ok, maybe associating all the dramas with Kota Tinggi isn’t fair, but there’s drama in that claim too, kan?
My point is this: Dot IS dramatic all the time - always playing victim and emotional blackmails. But it’s not MY fault. It’s the Kota Tinggi bangsawan writer in her.
The foetus whose mother stole the sultan’s jackfruit for, was supposedly found nibbling on the fruit when her mother’s womb was cut open. And its father must kill the sultan while the sultan was carried in his full royal splendour on the pedestal, no less. And the sultan’s curse must continue on for generations after generations. This must happen in Kota Tinggi.
My grand-grandmother was married at least 7 times. One of her husbands was a royal from Sumatera. One an Arab royal. True she was from Bunut Susu of Kelantan. But since after her first marriage, she moved to Kota Tinggi and that was where she lived till the day she died.
Her arab daughter aka my grandmother, lost her husband to a ‘perempuan-kabaret’, no less. Couldn’t the other woman just be someone who worked as tukang jahit in town, or maybe just guru kelas dewasa? No. She had to be from the cabaret. The smallest of waist, the highest the pointiest of corset and she was supposedly the best dancer in the whole town and beyond too, but of course (the movie Red Kebaya reminded me of her, hehehe). And in wanting to stop the fightings, my mother – who was little then, had to smash a glass and took the trouble to collect all the pieces, put them in a glass, pour water in it and what else, gulped it down. Infront of her parents, what else. It worked. The fights did stop but it ended after he left the house. For good. Kota Tinggi. Must you wonder?
Who can blame them? My grandmother was the bangsawan star in her time. Enough said.
(Disclaimer – no offense Tok Nah & Tok Cik, I absolutely love both grandmothers. One adamantly refused to teach me zapin and the other said I don’t need acting lessons from her since I am already so gifted, hehehe..)
My grandfather was a writer. And we all know how writers exaggerate! 'Beautiful eyes' not enough, only a non-writer would put it that way - plain equals to boring. A writer would say something about the saucer-sized eyes, with the black the blackest of black, and with such depth enough to drown 10 people in at one go, plus they got sparkle sparkle some more, and lashes so long so curled they look like the cow’s eyes!
Bloggers are worse, I know! What I need is just one grain of salt and I can create oceans from it. Like right now. Not that we write lies. No, I NEVER told a lie in all the 27 years that I have roamed the earth. NEVER.
We seem to have such penchant for drama. Like Italians and their famous operas, we seem to thrive on tragedies and heartaches. Let me not start on the dramas of my cousins, aunties, uncles etc. Ok, maybe associating all the dramas with Kota Tinggi isn’t fair, but there’s drama in that claim too, kan?
My point is this: Dot IS dramatic all the time - always playing victim and emotional blackmails. But it’s not MY fault. It’s the Kota Tinggi bangsawan writer in her.
posted by OOD at 9:50 AM
4 Comments:
hmmm...now this explains a whole lot about ur dramatic style!
best!
At least writers or Bloggers just doing it while typing the words away.
IMHO, Salespersons are the better exaggerator. They doing it every seconds, even while breathing.
You're lucky that Yamtuan is not one, I assume. Or else Dot would get the very de very best of both of you. :-)
Daulat Kota Tinggi!hehehe
nazrah,
me dramatic? where got?
:p
bro jo,
he's not drama at all, so bosan, takde orang nak layan my threats to jump down the balcony or my menangis berguling-guling.
oh, dulu dia salesman wo... tu yang jual minyak laku, so we got married.
dr b,
daulat! daulat! nak kena sumpah? Hidung merah tujuh keturunan ..
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