A Blast on a Birthday

It was supposed to be a quiet birthday celebration together, just the two of us. A whole day enjoying the spring Monday Bank Holiday of 1980; the first time I celebrated the birthday of my husband of a few months. It was a beautiful day but we chose to remain indoors, perhaps a quiet dinner later at Khans of Bayswater or El Efez, our two favourite haunts.

In spite of the hustle bustle outside the window; the whole world walking in droves towards the park, we refused to budge and sat lazily on the sofa watching what must have been a John Wayne movie. And then, it happened. First the programme was interrupted to show developments on the events that had the world glued to the TV for the past few days. It was to be the latest on the siege of the Iranian embassy in Princes Gate, across the park from where we were.

On 30th April 1980, a six-man team of the Democratic Revolutionary Movement for the Liberation of Arabistan (DRMLA), took over the embassy, taking 26 hostages; staff and people who had gone there to get visas to travel. They killed a hostage and threw the body outside the building,

This was my first taste of terrorism, bomb blasts and security alerts; with more to come.

On the screen, several men (SAS) were seen on the balcony of the building and before too long, we heard what seemed like a distant thunder; both on screen and from outside the window. It was real drama unfolding almost at our doorsteps. It was scary. We looked outside the window and people stopped in their tracks and were looking at the black smoke billowing from across the park. Within a few minutes, five gunmen were killed and 19 hostages were saved.

Yes, I still remember the evening of 5th May 1980. London, or rather the UK has always been a playing field, fertile grounds for foreign terrorist groups or freedom fighters, depending on how you see it.
Tomorrow, 29 years on, we are hoping for a quiet celebration, with four children and five cats.


Happy Birthday AG and thank you.

I feel a syaer coming but that will have to wait.








The one I prepared earlier:
Syaer untuk Sang Suami

Ode to Pak Malim: An Epilogue

My favourite autumn picture

Pantuns, syaers and seloka, never failed to provoke the sense of playfulness that exists even in the most serious amongst us. The teasing, the challenge and counter challenge and its very allusive nature make the pantun an all time favourite. It is certainly my all time favourite, especially in moments of despair, in times when the world gets too serious, and the politics threaten to get too ridiculous.

My Choc-a-bloc blog is just what its name suggests – choc-a-bloc with all sorts of rants and jottings of just about anything from my cats and sayang mamas to things trivial that occupy my waking hours and sometimes my restless nights. So, when I feel the need to de-stress, my mind goes into a pantun mode. And as you can see I had even devoted syaers to blogspot and spammers. Oh, Kak Teh, do get a life!

As the 99^th commenter, Edelweiss noted, this certainly reminds us of the time when Abang Malaya bursts into my blog with such beautiful thought provoking lyrics that not only reflect on our time at Jalan Riong but also the occasionally rant and frustrations about the current political situation. And Abang Malaya, like Pak Malim caught the popular imagination and elicit the playfulness in us that resulted in long, and contagious balas membalas – from so many people. And Abang Malaya, like Pak Malim was anonymous and this provokes our curiousity even more in our quest to find out their identity – the people whose pens and cursors dance effortlessly to beautifully crafted words.

Syaers and pantuns feature quite seriously in my life, especially after doing my MA in Traditional Malay Literature and verses from Syaer Bidasari and Syaer Dang Sarat, which I am still studying, come dancing in my mind to distract me from the mundane things that I do.

So, thank you to all – especially to Pak Malim, Kucing Ray yang Alim and Abang Malaya, whoever and whereever he is and to those who sportingly responded in such hilarious manner and rhymes, keeping me awake and alert and certainly laughing to myself a lot during these gloomy, wet and dreary days of autumn. Thank you. I have thoroughly enjoyed myself and I hope Pak Malim will still visit me.

Pantun memantun is not unknown when I get together with my siblings. Let me leave you with a taste of our brand of pantuns. After overdosing ourselves with food that Mak cooked and more from the stalls in and around Alor Setar, we’d sit lazily around the big family table, eyeing the piles of plates in the sink. Then someone would break the silence:

Baju lama baju lusuh,
Hai, pinggan banyak sapa nak basuh?

About Syaer Dang Sarat
Dang Sarat's Debut in Liverpool
A Tragic End to Dang Sarat

An Ode to Pak Malim, Kucing Ray yang Alim

It has been a terrible start to the day. It would seem as if winter has come to drive away autumn with all its might; the rain, the strong winds and the cold. From where I am sitting, I could see a carpet of golden leaves on the ground, the aftermath of last night’s ferocious attack.

So, any thoughts of going out also went out of the windows and I opted to opening YM windows and cyber windows that allowed me a peak into the outside world without the fear of being blown away.

I went to Norway to see my newfound friend, made my ritual visits to Puteri Kamaliah just to be spooked once again by her eerie stories and many more. Then I decided to look at my own blog traffic, who comes a knocking via which blog. And to my surprise, a visitor found his/her way to choc-a-blog by googling Pak Malim, the ubiquitous cat that is roaming blogosphere, leaving its lyrical pawmarks everywhere.

Pak Malim never fails to provoke a smile and tempt the uninitiated to try a hand at his own brand of verse. I have found him at Puteri’s, Pi Bani’s, NJ’s and Kay’s.

So, it is high time, says Kak Teh, sipping tea with a squeeze of lime,
That we devote an ode to Pak Malim, kucing Ray yang alim.

What do you think, asks Kak Teh, tickled pink!

An Ode to Pak Malim, Kucing Ray yang alim

Siapakah gerangan Pak Malim, banyak orang tertanya,
soal Kak Teh dengan mulut tenganga,
pandai berpantun dan berseloka, agak Kak Teh sambil membaca
dengan sungguh leka.

Pak Malim ke sini dan ke mana-mana,
merayap di alam siber, singgah di sini dan sana,
membawa maksud yang sungguh bermakna,
kata Kak Teh penuh kagum dan terpesona.

Pi Bani beria sungguh nak belikan sardin satu tin,
Untuk Pak Malim yang mungkinkah dari Mantin?
Kak Teh nak merisik asal usul Pak Malim apakah
pakai ilmu batin,

Siapakah dia tanya Kak Teh kepada seorang datin,
Dak aih!! kata Mak Datin, dia bukan dari Mantin,
tambah Mak Datin sambil memakai tudung satin,
mungkin dia kucing yang makan ikan tin,
dan kekadang bermadah bahasa Latin.

Pak Malim yang suka mengelat, kagum baca
Puteri Kamaliah pandai bersilat,
ketawa Kak Teh memikirkan Pak Malim macam ulat, mengelat,
bersilat tapi tak lupa solat.

Nak tahu jawapan Kak Teh melawat Pi Bani,
tengok Pak Malim peluk kera terlalu berani,
Kak Teh tahu Pak Malim pernah ke Indonesia,
pada Kay-Leeda, dia bocorkan rahsia,
Hish! katanya lagi, di sana dia peluk bohsia!

Awatlaaa, Pak Malim, nasib baik kucing bukan manusia!

Bukan bohsia dan kera saja dia suka peluk,
Big Bird juga dia tak kira makhluk,
kepada NJ dia cerita begitu teruk,
Kak Teh ternganga terkejut beruk!

Pak Malim ceritalah sikit tentang diri sendiri,
asal usul kamu dari mana datang ke mari,
setakat nak kenal lagi, kata Kak Teh sambil memberus gigi,
Kalau lah sudi, kita berpantun lagi,
pujuk Kak Teh hampir nak terjatuh perigi.

Baiklah Pak Malim, kucing Ray yang alim,
Kak Teh tanya dengan baik, bukannya zalim,
mana Pi Bani, sambung pulak seloka,
Kak Teh dah penat gelanggang pantun dibuka,
Puteri Kamaliah marilah ikut sama,
pujuk Pak Malim, berentak berirama.

Tapi, Kak Teh masih tertanya, siapakah gerangannya Pak Malim, kucing Ray yang alim??

Himpunan seloka/pantun/syaer Kak Teh:

Me and My Syaer on the no: 7
Syaer Untuk Sang Suami
Syaer Sang Isteri
Balada untuk Abang Malaya
Syaer Sang Spammer
Syaer untuk Blogspot
Syaer Hari Kebangsaan
Syaer Sibuk Sakan
Syaer Pilihanraya

A Tragic End...for DS

I give up. I was hoping that Dang Sarat and her dalliance with a leader of a state and her hocus pocus would lure more readers to my blog. But I was wrong – I simply can’t compete with other blogs with more explosive issues and more revealing ends (pun certainly intended).

So it is DS as I refer to Dang Sarat in my work versus SD. And I can’t win, Even as I am typing this, another sms came in about another explosive and damning revelation. DS, about more than a century old can’t afford to compete with real time stories.

But on reflection, and I am not saying that whatever is flying around in the blogs and media; accusations and counter accusations, are true, but there are certain things which I realise, never changed.

In most scandals, there’s always the femme fatale, the monstrous feminine lurking somewhere to make an appearance. And in the case of Syair DS it is the eponymous character herself.

DS was actually an ex-employee of a Singapore ruler. ( Am not drawing any parallels here!) She was in fact recommended to work for the Sultan because of her obvious skills and abilities in certain areas, but she took it upon herself to do more than that. She wanted to get closer to the Sultan. And this, as I had mentioned before, was through the use of hocus pocus.

The dalliance between employer and employee went on for quite sometime under the very eyes of the officials and of course the wife. Now, tell me, which wife could tahan the frolickings right under her nose? The wife here, who happened to be the Queen of Patani, had been so patient and even allowed the establishment of another residence for the other woman. While her own maids smirked and laughed openly at DS’s antics, the Queen, or sometimes known as the Peracau, merely turned away when she saw the other woman with the ugly oversized chastity belt, who at times, demanded her husband to piggyback her. What an ugly sight! But one day, she couldn’t stand it no more and gave these orders:

Menengar sembah segala menteri - wajah bertambah manis berseri
lalu bertitah raja pis[t]ari - ‘Memanda bendahara pergilah sendiri
Dengan segera suruh dikerjakan - Dang Sarat itu PACAK SULAKAN. (OUCH!!!!).

[When [she] heard what the ministers said, - her face became increasingly sweet and shining
then the illustrious Queen said: - 'Please Prime Minister go
and order that the following be done immediately: - Dang Sarat [must] be IMPALED.

And she said all these with a smile!
Many commenters wanted to know what happened to DS – and I can reveal now that her once pride and joy was cut, she was sula’ed – impaled with a rod pushed through her end – a tragic end one might say.
The Sultan then sailed back to his state, with the oversized chastity belt and DS’s hair hanging from the masthead of his boat.

There – I will put DS to rest – for now.

PS - femme fatales come in many different forms. And so do tragic ends.

The Debut of Dang Sarat in Liverpool

…on 21st June 2008, to be exact.

Some said she had a very good singing voice and that she was a fine perfomer. Some said she was just very good at what she was doing; delegating work, a mine of information and a shrewd leader of those under her wings. But most agree that she was not much to look at and in fact lived up to her name – the over laden maiden. And to make it worse, she suffered a kind of skin condition that made her look quite unsightly. Bidasari she certainly wasn’t.

However, the former employee of the Singapore ruler knew how to transform herself into a real beauty - if only in the eyes of those who mattered. And this she did by befriending those dark forces from the other world and summoning their help during the bleakest nights when she yearned for the warmth of his body next to hers. On nights like this the owlet would appear on his rooftop, as if calling out his name and to beckon him over and leave his unsuspecting wife in their comfortable boudoir.

Once the king fell victim to her black magic, he could see no wrong in anything she did. Not with her blotched skin, nor her demands for an oversized chastity belt.

That is Dang Sarat or Dayang Dang Sarat, although some had suggested she is Dang Sirat or Serat, depending on how you read the old Jawi text in the early 19th century manuscript. But it matters not as the lady in question, the femme fatale and monstrous feminine is the same one that not only destroyed the union of a loving couple but also that of two nations; Patani and Johor.

I was introduced to Dang Sarat, the eponymous character of this early 19th century syair in 2005. The manuscript, bought from John Crawfurd in 1824, has been in the safekeeping of the British Library and is still in pristine condition, in beautiful handwritten Jawi script by one or possibly more scribes from the days gone by. Trawling through the Syair was to say the least a most painstaking experience, especially for one who was not competent in the reading of Jawi scripts. But one had to learn the hard way, and throughout the journey on the number 7 to and from the uni, the character and the story of Dang Sarat unfolded before my eyes, but of course not without a lot of help from the likes of Wilkinson and Winstedt and my Sifu.

To say that I was consumed by Dang Sarat and the beauty that lies in between the finely composed verses, was an understatement. I ate, slept, talked and thought in syair . I was overwhelmed by what my professor described as Keindahan erti dan erti keindahan – the meaning of which came through vividly in many scenes; especially the one of the king wooing his new bride, the longing for the beauty he had never set his eyes on, the shy young princess battling with understandable insecurities and apprehension and more.

Last weekend, at a conference in Liverpool. I finally introduced Dang Sarat to my audience of mostly scholars from the world of Traditional Malay Literature who came from far and wide. The experience was not unlike delivering a baby long overdue and all this while had waited for this moment within the chapters of my dissertation. The post conference euphoria was akin to post natal bliss – what pain?

I leave you this little beauty:

“Setelah jauh malamlah hari - tirai pelaminan dilabuhkan beri
duduklah baginda raja pis[t]ari - teralu suka membujuk isteri
dipeluk dicium seraya berkata - ‘Tuanku nyawaku emas juwita
Tuanku jadi cahaya mahkota - sudah termeterai di dalam cita

Berbagailah bujuk raja bangsawan - dipeluk dicium di dalam pangkuan
Peracau pun tunduk malu-maluan - sedap manis barang kelakuan

ayam berkokok pungguk merindu - baginda kedua masuk beradu
di dalam tirai kelambu beledu - ditunggui kanda Dang Raya Dadu
Setelah selang sudahlah hari - bangunlah baginda dua laki isteri
keluar dari peraduan memimpin jari - keduanya manis tiada berperi.

Alas, it has a very ugly ending. More later.

Syaer Pilihanraya

Assalamualaikum Kak Teh ucapkan,

kepada semua kawan dan rakan,

di kampong, bandar dan juga pekan,

esok undi mu penting jangan lupakan.

Mari seketika kita berseloka,

hilangkan penat, letih dan duka,

imbas kembali janji manis bercuka,

para pemimpin kita sejak merdeka.

Demam pilihanraya semakin rancak,

panas habanya semakin memuncak,

kami yang jauh pun rasanya jugak,

dari seberang laut pun kami berhak.

Esok harinya yang menentukan,

kalah dan menang akan diumumkan,

segala janji mesti ditunaikan,

bukan sekadar nak dijadikan umpan.

Seronok dengar cerita berkempen,

bertikam lidah semua pemimpin,

menunjukkan hebat zahir dan batin,

memancing undi semasa bertanding.

Kisah dakwat menjadi berita,

mahalnya harga tidak terkata,

sudah dibeli dari India sana,

sekarang katanya tak boleh diguna.

Kak Teh terfikir seorang diri,

termenung sejenak menggigit jari,

berjuta habis dalam beberapa hari,

duit yang hilang macam mana nak ganti?

Terbaca pula kisah Pn Maimun,

usianya lanjut semangatnya bertimbun,

dah masuk Facebook peminatnya berkerumun,

berbasikal berkempen serata kampung.

Pilihlah pemimpin yang dianggap wajar,

yang tidak sombong yang masih boleh diajar,

yang berpengalaman, berjwa rakyat dan sedar

tidak lupa janji kerana kemewahan dikejar.

Sekian dulu Kak Teh bermadah,

berpantun berseloka bukannya mudah,

ingat, pangkah yang salah membawa padah,

nanti bertahun menyesal tak sudah..

Kepada bakal pemimpin Kak Teh ingatkan,

negara kita yang kita sayangkan,

berbaktilah kepada negara dengan keikhlasan.

amanat rakyat jangan dialpakan.

Syaer sibuk sakan!

Aduhai kawan dan rakan-rakan,
maafkan Kak Teh yang sibuk sakan,
banyak kerja di bandar dan pekan,
memang rasa sungguh tertekan.

Minggu lepas pergi Manchester,
naik kereta api dan juga kereta,
tidur dua malam tiga hari di sana,
itulah tugas tak kira di mana!

Balik Manchester penat tak sangga,
tidur tak sempat nak nangis pun ada,
kerja bertimbun sebaknya dada,
rumah bersepah semaknya minda!

Sekarang bersiap nak pergi lagi,
Ke Liverpool pula kerja esok pagi,
malam naik kereta api lagi,
tiga jam lamanya menggigit jari!

Di sini ku pohon undur diri,
nak siap-siap biar berseri,
melenggang lengguk kanan dan kiri,
mengejar kereta api takut kena berdiri!

Kak Teh pergi bukannya lama,
akan kembali ke London semula,
kita berjumpa esok atau lusa,
Insyaallah bila dah habis kerja semua!

Balada untuk Abang Malaya...Dari Jalan Riong ke London

Wahai pembaca Kak Teh berseloka,
membuka cerita pada pagi hari buta,
menyahut Abang Malaya empunya cerita,
bertanyakan khabar Kak Teh sekeluarga.

Muncul Abang Malaya mengusik jiwa,
terkenang kembali waktu remaja,
Di Jalan Riong Kak Teh bekerja,
sebelum ke London ingat 3 tahun saja.

Gurindam Abang Malaya membuka kisah,
selagi tak tahu nama hati gelisah,
Kak Teh berseloka supaya tak resah,
sehingga dapat tahu namamu yang sah.

Gurindam Abang Malaya mengusik kalbu,
ke Jalan Riong fikiran ku melulu,
semasa wartawan remaja dari ITM dulu,
nak panggung kepalapun rasa malu.

Jalan Riong menyimpan seribu kenangan,
tempat bertemu kekasih pujaan,
ramai lagi teman dan rakan,
sehingga hari ini masih berkawan.

Dua puluh enam tahun di perantauan,
pulang selalu jenguk ibu dan taulan,
ke Jalan Riong mencari kawan
rasa terubat hati yang rawan.

Abang Malaya duduk di mana,
kerja di NST atau BH sana?
kalau dah pencen sekarang bagaimana
datanglah ke London makan angin bersama.

Dulu memang Kak Teh dikatakan ayu,
bersarung kebaya kita selalu,
sekarang pinggang tak ada hati ku sayu,
makan banyak semuanya lalu.

Yang mana satu Abang Malaya,
Kak Teh dok ingat jangan tak percaya,
banyak juga teman abang2 jejaka,
semuanya hemsem dan kacak belaka.

Berselang bulan, musim dan tahun,
bertambah usia, uban di ubun,
yang dulu ramping dah jadi tembun,
Botak dan boroi jejaka dah jadi rabun.

Kami masih dalam ingatan Abang,
terima kasih diucapkan datang bersembang,
dalam dunia siber kita bergebang,
bila agaknya nak jumpa berdepang-depang (this is the Trenganu influence!)

Sudahlah di sini, Kak Teh bermadah,
berseloka sakan di pagi nan indah,
ku mohon diri untuk menyiapkan juadah,
sebelum bekerja yang tak sudah-sudah.

Syaer Hari Kebangsaan

Wahai semua rakyat Malaysia,
pembaca Choc-a-blog samalah juga,
hari ini hari yang mulia
49 tahun merdeka sudahnya.

Kak Teh bangun di pagi hari
di negara bekas penjajah yang sejuk ini
semangat berkobar “Negara ku” nak nyanyi
suara tak keluar ketawa sendiri.

Sudah lama di perantauan
namun anak Malaysia, masih ku tuan
tak kira di mana arah tujuan
kesetiaan kepada negara masih ketahuan.

Walaupun hari ini hari Merdeka
tak boleh berehat sebab terpaksa kerja
negara bekas penjajah mana ada cutinya
tak ingat kah depa, hari ini harinya????

Tak apalah pembaca, Kak Teh undur dulu,
mencari makan sekadar sesudu
berpestalah anda kibarlah bendera tu
kuatkan suara, nyanyikan NegaraKU!!!

SELAMAT MENYAMBUT HARI KEBANGSAAN!!

Syaer Untuk Sang Suami

Dengarlah semua Kak Teh bermadah,
di hari yang mulia, mengarang sudah,
usia suami setahun lagi bertambah,
namun si dia sikitpun tak gelabah.

Berhari-hari gundah gulana,
hadiah tak beli nak buat guana
nak belanja makan, entah kat mana,
India, Arab, Melayu atau Cina?

Teringat sewaktu berjumpa dulu,
tampan dan segak tersenyum selalu,
lucu dan lawak tetapi pemalu,
bila bertemu lidah pun kelu.

Kak Teh terpikat pandang pertama,
duduk berdepan, kerja bersama,
diajak keluar tak berapa lama,
berdentum dentam jantung berirama!

Selang bulan tahun berganti,
kasih mula berputik di hati,
namun tugas memisahkan kami
setahun lamanya menggigit jari!

Aduhai kasih, aduhai sayang,
siang malam terbayang-bayang,
tidur tak nyenyak makan tak kenyang,
teringatkan kekasih yang belum pulang.

Kepulangan membawa ke jinjang pelamin,
Syukur kepada Allah Rabbul ‘alamin,
Dibawa terus ke negara atas angin,
memulakan hidup di negara dingin.

Dialah suami, dialah kawan,
teman bercerita, hati nan rawan,
lucu berjenaka yang itu tak tahan,
lawak yang lama jadi ulang-ulangan.

Dipendekkan cerita di pagi hari,
Sukanya hati tiada terperi,
Anak empat sudah diberi,
Lengkaplah keluarga lagi berseri.


Ku ucapkan selamat suami tersayang,
bacalah syair yang baru dikarang,
sebagai hadiah yang bukan sebarang,
tapi ikhlas dari hati ku, sayang.

Here we go again...

Typical, isn’t it? Just two years and a bit into the marriage and he was already canoodling with another floozy! It all started off very well and was meant to be the greatest love story of the century. Just news of her beauty sent him off to seventh heaven, denying him of sleep and food. He survived on those lingering thoughts of her ravishing beauty and was intoxicated by the sweetness of her voice. Love does that to you, doesnt it? All the distance and the turbulent seas didn’t seem to matter and he was prepared to leave his own country to marry the woman that filled his dreams day and night. Such is the power of love! But love in this case was sadly defeated by the stronger power of black magic mumbo jumbos.

I knew she was bad news when she entered the scene, the minute she set eyes on him and planned her moves!. I was aware of the intrigues and goings on in this household but I felt helpless. I was a mere helpless bystander, from a totally different time zone, a totally different world, transported back to unravel the story and study it first hand from an eighteenth century manuscript.

This time last year, this story of a tragic love triangle consumed my very soul and filled every minute of my waking hours and even haunted my dreams as I struggled to finish my dissertation. And when I put the final full stop and made the mad rush to the faculty office, that was the last time I saw it....until yesterday.

The dissertation is based on an early 18th century syair – whose manuscript still neat and in pristine condition is kept in the British Library- unstudied and untouched. The only copy, I am glad to report. For this I must thank a wonderful friend who made this brilliant discovery and suggested that I should study it. And study it I did with my rusty knowledge of Jawi and soon enough my very own lingo started to sound syairish!! See this.

Since my forays into the realm of Traditional Malay Literature, I have been really intrigued by the richness of the language, our language, the different genres, theories and of course the romance – the old, romantic fool that I am. I became besotted with Indraputra and his flirtatious style, Bidasari and her beauty that won over the heart of the King, and many, many more. If only I have more than twenty four hours in a day, I will certainly spend more time in my sleeping bag, on the third floor of the library where most of the old hikayats and syairs are kept. Such beautiful writings but equally beautiful are the interpretations and analysis and studies by Traditional Malay Literature scholars such as Braginsky whose book, The Heritage of Traditional Malay Literature became a bible and a must for Tradional Malay literature students. Then there’s Kloster’s Roaming Through Seductive Gardens, and Sweeny’s Authors and Audiences in Traditional Malay Literature. It is just pure pleasure reading them.

Back to my reunion with my dissertation: I have dusted it and peeled open the pages again refamiliarising myself with the storyline and the characters once again came dancing in my memories,reenacting some of the most beautiful moments that will remain with me forever. One or two chapters derserved to be published, says my professor. And so they will be. Insyaallah.

These are some of the wonderful stanzas that play again and again in my head, a scene when the king is romancing his shy bride during their first meal together:

Menengarkan sembah demikian nyata

sambil tersenyum baginda berkata
“Marilah santap emas juita

biarlah kekanda menemani serta”

Menengarkan titah raja pisari

peracau tunduk berdiam diri
lakunya malu manis berseri

oleh baginda dibasuh jari.

Santap sambil gurau jenaka

berbagai jenis kata direka
segala mengadap terlalu suka

peracau santap sedikit juga.

Sudah santap raja bangsawan

santap sirih di dalam puan
serta mnemakai bau-bauan

sedap manis barang kelakuan.

Setelah jauh malamlah hari

tirai pelaminan dilabuhkan seri
Duduklah baginda raja pisari

terlalu suka membujuk isteri.

Dipeluk dicium seraya berkata:

"Tuanku nyawaku emas juita
Tuanku jadi cahaya mahkota

sudah termeterai di dalam cita”

All together now: Aaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!

Syaer Sang Spammer

Tersebut kisah makhluk sang spammer
merayau masuk ke blog sume
tak kira sapa spam saja
nak jual barang nak promote apa?

Entri syaer ku banyak dah kena
dan kawan-kawan juga di sini sana
kami tak perlu viagra dan pill apa-apa
semuanya segar bugar sehat belaka.

Wahai Sang Spammer yang baik budi
tak ada kerja kah sehari-hari
Kak Teh dok delete dah sakit jari
pi lah buat blog sendiri.

Blog Kak Teh janganlah kacau,
kalau dikacau malam-malam mericau,
Jadi, sebelum kita jadi musuh
tolonglah – pergi main jauh-jauh!

Kalau tak juga reti bahasa,
nanti siang tak lena malam jaga,
OOD kuhantar pasti menangis,
baru lu cai makan tak habis!

Kecek-kecek is gone!!!!!!

Help!!!! I woke up very early this morning to do some work and I found a message from Kampo saying that he could not open my husband's blog on Terengganuspeak, "Kecek-Kecek.blogspot.com". I tried opening it and true enough, its not there! This is so strange because my husband had just updated his blog just before he went to sleep and I saw his latest posting. Woke him up and he too is puzzled about it. Does anyone know how this can happen? How a blog can just disappear like that?
Got to get back to my syaer.

Can the person responsible please put it back?
So, everyone, pls save your files.

LATEST: EVERTHING IS BACK TO NORMAL. THANKS EVERYONE FOR THE INFO.
hmmm..bini saja dok kalut, yang cik awang goneng teruih tidork balik.
(translation: aaaah, such a caring wife (konon) while husband continues with his sleep) It is, afterall, 4 am London time.

Blogspot buat hal...my syaer tergendala.

Syaer untuk Blogspot
tersebut kisah sebuah lelaman,
di pagi hari membuat kejutan,
mendapat warta dari seorang teman,
terkejut tergempar gundah gunawan

Blogspot buat hal di pagi hari,
kak teh tak jadi kerja menggigit jari,
awang terus tidur, why lah you worry?
Bila dah pulih, tersenyum sendiri..

dare'kampo bersuara
Tersebut lah kisah
Isteri yang gundah
Mendapat khabar resah
Blog suaminya punah

Dikejutkan si suami
yang lena bermimpi
tapi hampa di hati
suami buat tak reti

Lalu si isteri
menulis di sini
meminta simpati
tidak terperi

Setelah lama menanti
dicari akar dan umbi
si isteri tersengih sendiri
Blogspot buat hal lagi...

lilheaven menambah:
rancak berseloka
merawat lara
tersenyumku membaca
kalian hebat berkarya

alamatnya ini
jemputlah mari
tak seberapa isi
justeru segan berkongsi

kak teh membalas:
menengar kisah di sini situ,
blogspot buat hal memang selalu,
ramai pengunjung komen dan merapu,
kak teh malu tersipu-sipu

cik wang oi, blogspot buat angkara,
bukannya apa biasalah perkara
manis berseri dia mula bersuara
you saja nak bersandiwara!

tunduk kak teh tidak terkata,
mengenangkan nasib diri yang nyata,
nasib blogger yang merata-rata,
mengharapkan blogspot taklagi sengkita.

dare'Kampo bermadah lagi:
Kisahnya tiba bermula
nun jauh di tanah rata
Negeri yang Beraja
Melangkah tujuh benua

Suami dan isteri
penulis sejati
Mengarang luahan hati
penuh berseni

Si Suami digelarnya itu
Pok Awang Terengganu
Si isteri pula mahu
di panggil Makcik Blur gitu

Mereka berdua
Seiya sekata
menjadi umpama bara
membakar rasa jiwa

Memberi satu semangat
penuh ilmu makrifat
Semua pembaca terpikat
Dari jauh dan dekat

Terbongkarlah rahsia
di alam cyber
Mereka berdua
Excellent Bloggers!

sumbangan dr lilheaven:
Bersyaer peri masih bertatih
Pok guru keliling lama doh fasih
Sungguhpun sumbang ku bantai melangkah
Saja nak turut kasik meriah

Blogging mengumpul kenalan merata
Asalnya sekadar ingin bertinta
Kini menjadi teman bicara
Berkongsi kisah suka dan duka

Kecek-Kecek terdahulu dikenali
Choc A Blog Blog kini diminati
Rupanya pasangan suami isteri
Nukilan bermutu kami hayati

Cerita ceriti yang teramat berharga
Mari hormati pendirian empunya
Jangan la ada yg tutup blognya ya?
Kita berkongsi sekadar yang ada

Teruskan berkarya
Moga maju jaya
LindunganNya tetap bersama
Nawaitu kita kerana Dia

MASEHHHHHHHH!!!!

My syair and me on the No 7

Prominent on my list of regrets - not learning to read or write Jawi. Am kicking myself senseless now as I have to struggle with an old manuscript that I am working on before completing my studies. And it is not just Jawi, but old Jawi which scribes took liberty to add or leave out any dots, just to add to the confusion, I suspect.

Anyway, I believe I know enough to be able to read the Quran and I never had any real use or need to learn Jawi until now. Mak used to read the syair or hikayats to us like modern mums read Goldilocks and the Three Bears.

My first attempt to write was of course, if I remember correctly, done with the intention to impress my dearly intended. He, of course, coming from the East Coast, writes beautiful Jawi. So, I wrote a letter to my Mak and asked him to check. He took one look and smiled. (He was then, too polite to laugh). Instead of Mak, I had written Maka… so, enough said. Nowadays, he leaves notes in Jawi outside the door to our son, telling him where he has left the house keys. Clever or what?

Now, fast forward to London years and years later, I answered a call from a friend who asked whether I’d like to earn some extra money and help her catalogue some old books in the british Library. But one requirement was that I must be able to read Jawi.

“So, I assume you do read Jawi,” she said, without actually asking for an answer.

“Ah!” I giggled a pitch higher, “do birds fly? Do fish swim?”

And with that, for my arrogance and sin, I found myself in the company of old Malay manuscripts and hikayats and newspapers, dusty and some even crumbling at the touch, at the British Library. I had the opportunity to see the early copies of Jawi Peranakan, Abdullah Munsyi’s compilation of “Sepuluh Kebodohan Orang-orang Melayu” and many more interesting titles…well, interesting only when I got to decipher them, which might have taken something like ten minutes… going, Jim Alif Ja Wau Ya Wi…Jawi. That transported me right back to the house of my old Quran teacher in Yan, as I repeated after her sing song style of spelling, all the while pointing to the script with her finely carved lidi. which was of course, yesteryear's cursor.

But that experience at the BL left me with this legacy that I have not been able to shake off. One, it triggered asthma and later hayfever, because of all the dust and two, it increased my interest in old Malay manuscripts and books, some of which are not even in the possession of our libraries or museums.

This Syair that I am working on is yet unstudied, I am proud to say. And with this knowledge, I am spurred on to painstakingly transliterate each line, with the intention to have it published.

The British Library has the only copy of this Syair and I had the pages copied and everyday, with a few pages each, I’d sit on the number seven to work or to the university and transliterate the beautiful stanzas from this early nineteenth century or late eighteenth century poet. On most days, I’d be transported to the intrigues in the Malay royal court with belles of beauty with none to match and heroes with charm and wit to die for. I’d be oblivious to the chaos and humdrum on the streets of London, until I reach my destination.

So, yesterday, armed with about 30 pages of the manuscript, and the transliteration,I marched to my professor’s room. As it was my first consultation this year, I decided to buy some almond croissants, with which we could chew and digest the syair.

I have long eaten my humble pie. I am no longer embarrassed that as a Malay, I have to study from a non-Malay. But I am proud to say, if I have to learn anything from any non_Malay, it will have to be the best…and Professor Braginsky, a Russian, is certainly one of the best in this area of Traditional Malay Literature. He is the seefoo in this area, well informed and much quoted by scholars all over the world.

My transliteration, needless to say, have lots of blanks to be filled, eventhough my other half has helped me a lot with certain words. Most times, I had to consult Wilkinson, the bible for traditional Malay literature scholars. So, over tea and croissants, I listened intently as my old Russian guru talked about ‘raja pisari’ or raja bistari, about hints to read old jawi: to look out for the alphabet Ga and not confuse it with Kaf and so on and so forth.

There are a lot of mine fields, these Jawi manuscripts, and I tripped onto one yesterday and it exploded right in my face.

“Ah, yes,” said I trying hard to sound academic. “I find it quite interesting that, given the Islamic overtones of the stanza, they do have samsu and such likes,”

“Samsu?” said Dr B, curious.

“Yes,” I offered, very confidently, almost verging on arrogance again. “See..it is sin mim sin wau…samsu..”

“Ah…,” said the wise one, ignoring my offer of the original script. “It is not samsu as in the arak, but it is Shamsu…it is not Sin but Shin….so, Shamsu dan Qamar…The sun and the moon,”

My face collapsed, and the almond croissant tasted funny. You see, being Malay, we tend to make these mistakes. Take one look and we assume, and thus, re: Pok Ku, we are an ass. For non-Malay scholars learning the classic literature, they refer to the basics! That's how they learn and that's how they know more than us.

Anyway, I have about 50 more pages to go.

Rushed out to catch the number seven just about to leave the stop outside the campus. Nothing beats being on the number seven at this time of the evening…hardly anyone. Just me and my syair sailing along Oxford Street.

menengar titah raja yang adil,
keluarlah semua pandai dan jahil,
riuh rendah meriam dan bedil
Oh..debenhams ada sale!

As you can see, once in a while, there are distractions and I am bounced back to 21st century London and its cruel realities.