Opera Cinta

I am a kepochi.

You know, on 12 Dec, I took leave. I had Alumni Dinner that night and the group asked me to help find one particular cikgu. I was the only link to the missing cikgu simply because I went to his house some ten years ago. I couldn’t remember where that house was, even which taman. I only know it was in Kajang. 10 years ago. Houses get renovated, trees grow. Landscapes changed. It was a Mission Impossible.

BUT, I managed to find the cikgu. At Hospital Kajang’s morgue, I kid you not. But that is another story. This story has the kind of romance that rivals that of Romeo and Juliet. Get ready with your handkerchiefs.

Ok.

After the episode with cikgu at Rumah Mayat, my friend dropped me off at Bukit Jalil LRT station. I wanted to go Midvalley and so took the LRT from there to Bandar Tasik Selatan’s station. Even as the LRT entered the station, even from that distance, I could see a couple locked in embrace at the Komuter station (next to LRT station). Maybe it’s a wrong word to use – it wasn’t an embrace. It was more like she draped herself over him and he couldn’t peel her off. Never mind.

I disembarked from LRT, went outside the station, bought myself some slices of mango and a packet of maruku. Then went to Komuter and they were still glued together, on the stairs. Aiyah, so chenta chenta laidet. Looking at them, you know it wasnt a heaty kind of embrace, it was a desperate cling like he was going to war and she would be left alone - ohh.

But just as I got near them, the girl collapsed. At least, that was the impression that she wanted to make. Pengsan.

But instead of collapsing big time with head hitting the hard floor and rolled down the stairs, she collapsed daintily so he could catch her. But she was a wee bit too heavy for him. So he put her down, sprawled on the stairs. Not a pretty sight.

I was right there next to them and instead of sympathising, I was annoyed. Because, she was just being a drama queen. I knew she was just pretending. Hands on my hips, I asked one young Chinese man to help haul the girl up from the stairs. Put her on the floor.

All the while, one Chinese uncle was panicking. ‘Ini perempuan gila babi.’ ‘Gila babi!’ ‘baik-baik, nanti mulut dia buih.’ Mulut dia buih uncle? Think of how her parents must be foaming at the mouth if they were to see her like that. I mean, come on, the Japanese left Tanah Melayu tens of years ago, kan? Puh-leeees lah.

‘letak barang dekat mulut dia, nanti dia gigit lidah’ said the uncle.
The only thinkable thing i can put in her mouth was the sliced mango. No way. She was not having a fit, she was just staging a performance. I wasnt going to reward her with my prized mango, even though her performance was of erra-fazira quality.

Then I asked another person to pour the drinking water that he was carrying on the girl’s face.
‘Sprinkle?’ he asked me.
‘No. Pour. The whole bottle.’ I said. And I could see the girl flinch at that. Before we could empty the bottle on her, she gained consciousness! Her hands moved. They caught Romeo’s hands and pulled him so he would hug-her-and-never-let-her-go-ever-again.

Awwwwwww, the crowd said.

Eeeuuwwww, I said.

She opened her eyes, blink-blink-blink. All the time, making sure that he was not even one inch away from her.

And I told him, ‘bawak dia balik sekarang!’.
To her I said, ‘jangan nak ikut perasaan sangat. Pergi balik.’

I am such a big kepochi, kan?

I YB U

Ladies and gentlemen, I was at the parliament yesterday. Yes, yesterday when there were groups of demonstrators and FRUs and reporters and what-have-you. I was there NOT as an angry rakyat but to attend a meeting.

I attended the parliament assembly last month too.

Being at parliament twice in two months is probably a better attendance than some/most Wakil Rakyat, don’t you think? And for having such a sparkling attendance record, I qualify as a YB don’t you think?

Rakyat sakalian,
As I look out the window to see the angry faces of the demonstrators, stern faces of the policemen and grim faces of the likes of Lim Kit Siang and Kayveas, I wondered how indeed can a common rakyat voice their unhappinessto the ruling government. It is not like there is no proper channel for it. Rakyats have their elected representatives to the parliament. The MPs are put there at the parliament for a reason, to represent the rakyat kan?

What I saw at the parliament last month was more than just a bit disappointing.

First, the Dewan was almost empty. And i was told, that that was common.

Two, the VIP longe was almost full. MPs were eating, reading newspaper, chit-chatting etc.

Third, conduct in the Dewan is not-more-not-less than one I would expect at Kedai Kopi. Ok I kasi up sikit, at Starbucks. Especially when the Opposition member takes the mic, he will be boo-ed and jeer-ed – so much so that I couldn’t hear a thing he said. My simple brain understands that he is there because the people in his area trust him. He is not there to represent his party, he is there to be the voice of his people. Shouldn’t at least, THAT be respected? Let him talk. Whether other MPs agree to him or not, is up to an intellectual and just debate. But let him talk lah, haiya. And the thing is that, as most other MPs (doesn’t matter from what party), they do have their point, they do make sense – once in a while.

And so if, Wakil Rakyats are either (1) too busy doing other things and cant attend parliament (2) committed, attends meeting but not able to talk – nobody would listen (3) attends meeting only for those great triple-decker sandwiches served at the lounge – how will the rakyat ever be able to send messages to the ruling government of their happiness and unhappiness?

Yesterday, the attendance was awesome, BECAUSE they had to vote whether pension-age of the SPR boss is to be 65 or 66. Having to put their votes means there will be a record of attendance and of having paid attention, therefore the Dewan was full.

And everybody was so friendly and nice. Rare. Err, it cant be because pilinhanraya is near and they want my vote, kan?

One Menteri came to me and very cordially asked, ‘Apa sudah jadi?’ pointing to my stomach. Well, I could have answered the truth, that I ate too much, but instead I answered, ‘kami sama-sama muda, kami terlanjur’. And he stammered on, ‘anak pertama?’. When I answered, ‘Ketiga, Datuk Seri,’, he said, ‘Oh, suami kerja kerajaan, ya?’.

Can somebody explain to me why? What is the relevance of ‘suami kerja gamen’ with ‘having a third child’?

And if I am unhappy that pegawai kerajaan ada 3 anak, can I hold a placard that says, ‘Hak Pekerja Swasta Untuk Beranak Tiga’ and go terbalikkan a few cars too? I know my Wakil Rakyat wont tell the parliament that for me. She has more than 3 kids and she serves the Government!