Peruvian artist Simeon Gonzales Ayquipa

My young Peruvian artist friend from Cusco have lately been trying to get into my good books again. First a new year greetings by email. Last week two faxes, one announcing his new exhibition in Spain, and the second one saying " sorry for what happened" !

Well, it's still a cooling-off period for me and I wish him all the best with his venture in Spain. I just hope he does not get into another situation like he did in 2001 when after a year of hard work in Spain churning out what I consider his best works to date, he came back with a dud USD 45,000 cheque!

My young friend is really extremely talented as you can see from his paintings here. He has all the making of a great artist (if he isn't already one). But like most artists with sad, tragic stories, he has a mind very much his own and it is difficult to convince him what I think is the right course.

I believe I have done my part well enough, spending a lot of time on his behalf. I have over the years since our meeting in 2001 promoted his works rather extensively within my circle of friends and colleagues. I did one very successful major exhibition of his works in Kuala Lumpur in 2004 and two informal ones following that, with his presence at the last one. He made a lot of money from the sales at the exhibitions as well as from private sales courtesy of my contacts. And yet he is constantly without money! Why? Because he spent it all on doing one exhibition after another at his own expense - to build a resume! I told him his resume was long and impressive enough but he was not convinced!

Anyway the last straw was early last year when I had assisted him financially, and even as a reference for his visa, to travel and do an exhibition in Koln, Germany, after which he was supposed to visit me here for a few days. But he quarrelled with the promoter after the exhibition and things went sour. Before that he was very upset with me, sending me nasty emails. All because I sent an email to the promoter inquiring about the exhibition, his visa and the financial arrangement. It took lengthy explanation to convince him that I was only doing that out of concern and in his interest.

After the exhibition, and the quarrel with the promoter and his unfulfilled promise to visit me, he sent me a most insolent email accusing me of being high and mighty and siding with the promoter just because I spoke to the man, who of course had a barrel of complaints about my young friend.

Well, enough was enough. I wrote him a terse email and told him to move on and not bother me anymore. I had done more than most people were willing to do for him and if that was his way of showing appreciation, adios amigo was really in order. So Simeon, if you are reading this, which I doubt, (anyway he doesn't speak English), cooling-off period is still in effect.

You will be forgiven eventually, but you must first learn what friendship and courtesy are all about!

All paintings are oil on canvas. The two watercolours on paper Simeon and I worked together on. It was his way of imparting his talent on me. It was a very inspiring and happy collaboration and I am very proud of the result! The last painting which he called IL TRITICO was commissioned by my sister-in-law Anita and proudly hangs in her house in Shah Alam.

Sunsets on the Nile - for Silvia

A Reflection on My Birthday

Sering aku merasa kesepian
sepanjang perjalanan
Namun kehadiran Mu bawa kedamaian
Bagi diriku Kau lah titisan hujan
menyirami taman hati
Aku yang sering kegersangan
rasa keindahan nya

Hadir Mu Kekasih
disaat diriku memerlukan
Hadir Mu Kekasih
mengutip kedukaan yang seringnya
merintangi kesepian hidup yang tak bertepi
Terpadam kepahitan
Semuanya kerana hadir Mu

Kau sedarkan daku
dari kejatuhan ku yang lalu
Kau kekuatan ku
Di saat kepayahan
Kau nyalakan pengharapan
Semakin bererti hidup ini
Terpadam kepahitan
Semuanya kerana hadir Mu.....

Amin, amin
Ya Rabbal al amin.









- Birthday bouquet from my staff

Home from Egypt & Gong Xi Fatt Choy

I came home from my 8 days holiday in Egypt last night. It was a wonderful holiday and I will write about it in my next posts. Meanwhile here are some early photos from the holiday.

Today is the Chinese Lunar New Year, the Year of the Ox. To all my Chinese friends and colleagues (especially my dear friends Jian & Wing, Harriet & Tai Long, Yong Ai, Mein Nien, Hoong Po, Willie, Debbie, Siew Lay & Steve, Susan & Shum, G-Mun, Gene, Wen, May Yong & Lai, Koon San & Fooi Lin, and Seng Sung and all others) I wish you all a happy and prosperous new year ahead and all the good things you wish for.

Today is also my birthday! No need to guess how old I am.... old and wise enough I am sure! I am having a quiet a very restful day at home after the 8 busy, exciting days in Egypt but tomorrow I will have a luncheon party for 25 people, my staff and friends here.

The greetings and good wishes have been pouring in by sms, emails and phone calls. I feel very touched and overwhelmed by all the kind thoughts and expression of love and friendship. Yam in Washington even did a special video for me, thank you darling! My brothers and my cousin Wan had done and will do more special prayers for me at mosques in Johor Bahru and Kuala Lumpur for the occasion, bless them.

What can I say, I really feel BLESSED. I am so very grateful to have all the good things in life and the added bonus of family and friends. Thank you all and may God bless you too always.

Alhamdullilah, Alhamdullilah, Alhamdullilah.

Mimpi Kamariah

Kamariah tersentak dari tidur. Dadanya bergoncang dan peluh menitis dari dahi. Sungguh menggemparkan sekali mimpinya. Lalu dia bangkit dan melangkah dari katil ke tingkap bilik tidur dan melihat keluar. Damai sekali malam itu, cahaya bulan serta lampu jalan menabur bayang-bayang tenang dari pokok mangga di halaman rumah. Sungguh berbeza sekali dengan perasaannya pada masa itu yang bergelora dengan rasa kesunyian yang tak terhingga.

Jam menunjukkan pukul 3.20 pagi. Dalam kegelapan Kamariah melangkah ke dapur dan meminum seteguh air sejuk. Dalam samar-samar kegelapan itu juga dia dapat melihat dapur dan ruang-ruang rumah yang tersusun kemas dan terhidu bau wangi sejambak bunga yang ada di atas meja di ruang tamu. Kamariah mengeluh kecil sambil melangkah balik ke bilik tidur: “Rumahku dan hidupku sungguh teratur, tetapi untuk siapa? Adakah cukup untuk aku seorang sahaja!”
.............................................

Dari pejabatnya Kamariah menelefon Mak Sunya. Dia teringin melawat ibu saudara yang paling rapat dengannya petang itu juga. Sudah lama mereka tidak bertemu. Mak Su adalah satu-satunya orang yang pernah memanjakan dia dan sekrang tanpa Datin Fatimah, Mak Su kakak sulung ibunya itu adalah tempat bermanja dan mengadu bagi Kamariah.

“Lama kau tak datang Kem?” tegur Mak Su selepas Kamariah mencium tangannya.

“Sibuklah mak, kerja tak habis-habis” sahut Kamariah.

“Kau tak takut duduk sorang-sorang kat rumah tu?” Tanya Mak Su buat kali yang keseratus agaknya!

“Dah biasa mak! Mana Yem dan Ani?”

“Belum balik lagi, Kem, selalunya memang lambat”, jawab Mak Su.

Mereka berbual perkara-perkara kecil sambil minum teh. Masa berlalu dan Kamariah belum terdaya menimbulkan soal mimpinya. Kamariah sentiasa berada terlindung dan selesa sekali bila berada di samping Mak Sunya. Orang tua itu banyak mengenalkan Kamariah kepada latar belakang ibu dan bapa kesayangannya. Namun demikian, kadang-kadang Kamariah rasa ingin menanyakan siapakah sebenaranya ibu bapa kandungnya, tetapi sehingga sekarang dia masih belum berani lagi. Dia percaya Mak Su tentu tahu.

Kamariah sedar dia adalah kelahiran Cina dan hakikat inilah yang memberatkan lagi akibat bersabit harta-bendanya sekiranya dia mati tanpa meninggalkan zuriat. Kamariah telah dibesarkan dengan secukupnya tata susila kemelayuan dan keagamaan dan telah sebati dengan cara hidup ini di sebalik cara hidup yang juga kebaratan. Di hati kecilnya tidak wujud sedikitpun tarikan ciri-ciri kecinaan selain dari memandangnya sebagai suatu perkara kebudayaan dan yang tidak dapat dielakkan dalam masyarakat berbgai bangsa di negara ini. Ini jua membuat Kamariah curiga sekiranya dia sanggup menghadapi kedua-dua ibu bapa sebenaranya sekiranya ada peluang sedemikian.

“Che Jaafar ada telefon kau ke Kem?” tiba-tiba Mak Su bertanya.

“Tak adalah! Kenapa pula dia nak telefon Kem? Dia nak amil bank loan ke?” Kamariah menyahut, agak terkejut dari lamunannya dan agak anih dengan timbulnya nama Che Jaafar.

“Kau ni sampai bila nak membujang? Che Jaafar tu kan dah lama menduda. Dulu masa Ayah Mat kau masih hidup dia pernah merisik pasal engkau. Tapi kau tahulah aruah tu, dia tak mahu bangkitkan perkara ini pada kau. Takut kau melenting, katanya. Kebelakangan ini pula bila bertemu dengan Yem dan Ani, Che Jaafar tu selalu tanya pasal engkau. Dia baik orangnya, Kem. Kesian, isterinya meninggal dah tiga tahun. Anak tunggalnya pun dah besar, sekarang belajar kat Amerika. Dia tu duduk sorang macam kau juga. Kata Yem lagi dia pernah tanyakan sama ada kau tu dah terikat. Berapa umur kau sekarang Kem?“

Kamariah hampir tidak percaya apa yang didengarnya. Che Jaafar yang dikenalinya sebagai sahabat baik keluarga mereka, yang sentiasa ada di majlis-majlis kenduri, tahlil dan lain-lain majlis keluarga mereka. Umurnya tentu lebih dari lima puluh tahun tetapi orangnya masih segak dan tampan. Kamariah tidak menyangka sekali yang Che Jaafar mempunya apa-apa minat terhadapnya. Di mana-sama mereka bertemu di majlis-majlis tadi Kamariah sentiasa menegur hormat kepadanya sebagai rakan baik bapa dan bapa saudarnya. Che Jaafar pun sentiasa bersikap sopan terhadapnya. Kamariah sungguh terperanjat.

“Mak ini merepeklah!” bantah Kamariah, namun hatinya mula berdebar. “Takkan dia hendak dengan saya. Ramai lagi perempuan lebih muda dari saya. Lagipun saya tak tahu menahu kalau benarpun. Mak percaya dengan Yem dan Ani tu?”

“Yem tu kerja dalam bangunan yang sama dengan Che Jaafar, selalunya mereka bertembung. Si Ani pulak selalu ke rumah Cik Siti, adik Che Jaafar tu. Anak Cik Siti, Ena tu kawan baik Si Ani. Sekali-sekala Si Ani jumpa Che Jaafar di rumah Cik Siti tu. Ada sekali Che Jaafar pernah hantar Ani dan Ena ke sini. Mak ajak dia naik tapi dia agak segan pulak. Sebenarnya Cik Siti pernah telefon pada mak beberapa minggu dulu, katanya dia nak berbincang sesuatu. Mak kata datanglah, tapi tiba-tiba dia terpaksa ikut laki dia ke Singapura. Bila dia balik nanti tentu dia telefon mak lagi. Mak tahu ini mesti tentang Kem dan Che Jaafar. Jadi macam mana Kem, kau setuju tak? Kau tahu, Yem kata kat pejabat Che Jaafar tu ramai betul peminatnya tapi dia sikitpun tak kisah“.

Kamariah menjadi bingung. Fikirannya bercabang seribu. Ini semua seoralah-olah mimpi, sambungan mimpi buruknya semalam, hanya kali inii ia lebih mengelirukan dalam kejelasannya.
”Kau duduklah dulu Kem. Mak nak masuk sembahyang. Fikirlah baik-baik. Semoga Tuhan buka kan hati kau”.

Di sepanjang perjalanannya ke rumah, wajah-wajah Che Jaafar, Dr. Wilson, Malek, Datuk Talib dan Datin Fatimah bergilir-gilir muncul di fikiran Kamariah. Dia sungguh keliru. Kenapa dengan mendadak timbul perkara ini dan mengapa selama ini Mak Su, dan sepupunya Yem dan Ani tidak pernah mengatakan apa-apa tentang perkara ini kepadanya. Kata-kata Mak Su berulang-ulang bermain di ingatan beliau....

" Che Jaafar tu baik orang nya... Che Jaaafar tu baik orangnya... baik orangnya... Che Jaafar tu..... "

"Mak dan ayah kau tak pernah sempat menimang cucu. Mansor sampai sekarang belum dapat anak. Kau tak ingin ke punyai keluarga Kem? Mak bukan apa apa, tapi harta benda kau tu nak tinggal pada siapa.....pada siapa.....pada siapa....?"

Soalan terakhir itu tepat kaitan dengan mimpinya semalam dan Kamariah sedar dia tak perlu membangkitkan tentang mimpinya lagi.....

Jazz Dinner on a snowy night

I had dinner at Marilyn and Robert’s house again last night and it was quite an occasion. They invited some 40 people and there was a 3-piece jazz band to entertain us as well. I met several interesting people and had wonderful conversations with them. Robert announced that before dessert all the men must leave their tables and to other tables so that they would meet other ladies. What a wonderful idea!

Several of the people I spoke to had been to Malaysia, and spoke well of Malaysia. To those who had not, I had a great time telling them about all the wonderful things that awaited them in my country, very much supported by those around us who had been – and they were impressed. I was glad to do my bit for Malaysian tourism!

The dinner party was a pleasant way to spend a cold, seemingly endless snowy winter night. We started early, invitation was at 6 pm. (it gets dark here by 5 pm) and by 9.30 pm people started to leave. It was good timing, and I had time to watch the news and read my Internet at home after that. I am not a fan a jazz but the trio played well and were given rousing applause at the end of the evening.

It is still a long way before winter ends. I wish the snow will just melt away. It has been around over a month now. The last few days saw some sunshine and temperature finally going above zero, which melted some of the snow but there is still plenty around yet!
My dear friend Prof. Beep and her two colleagues arrive tonight from their week-long work in Germany (enrolling all those lucky MARA-sponsored students in various institutes in Germany) for a short visit before they fly back to Malaysia. No doubt they will be heading for the Bally outlet tomorrow!

This year I need not go to Davos for the World Economic Forum which will be from 24 – 27 January, as I had for the last two consecutive years. So I am going to leave this cold snowy place seek some sunshine. Come Sunday I leave for Egypt for a week and take a luxury cruise up the Nile from Aswan to Luxor, and visit Alexandria (I had already done Cairo and the Pyramids and the Sphinx in 1984).

Meanwhile to the mosque for Friday prayers. I hope Mustafa the Albanian imam does not scream and shout again as he has a habit of doing at the sermon! Three Fridays ago, having just returned from his annual pilgrimage in Mecca for the haj and all fired up with what was happening in Gaza, he gave a fiery talk before the prayer. And then he got all fired up again during a particularly lengthy sermon, shouting and raising his voice until his face was all red and and you could see all the veins. Bad enough I did not understand a word of the Arabic, Albanian and German he was sermonizing in, but his shouting and screaming really got me! Of course we are all extremely upset and concerned over what was happening in Gaza, but screaming and shouting do not really help!

Often I was tempted to ask him why did he raise his voice and shout so much during the sermons. But each time after prayer he would stand outside the hall and greet the congregation as they leave and when it was my turn he would take my hand and kiss me on both cheeks! So how was I going to tell him to tone down a bit!

Tok Wan's birthday

Tok Wan sat alone at his dinner table. There was a far and nostalgic but contented look on his face. It has been a long busy day, quite out of the regular for an old man like him. So many people had wished him happy birthday today, both at home and earlier this evening at the mosque where there was a special 'doa' for him. He felt grateful and blessed.

He reluctantly finished his food that the maid insisted he eats and went to sit in the porch. On the way he passed Mak Nah’s photo on the side table and looked at it and smiled. How good she had been to him, he thought, and although it had been many years since she died, not a day passed that he had not missed her and her loving ways. He had to stifle his tears this morning when he visited her grave.

Strange though that it was not really her that he was in love with in those early days but her younger sister, Zainab. Nab was then the more attractive, lively and independent woman of her time in comparison to Hasnah’s serious and conservative ways. As a schoolgirl Nab used to take maths tuition from Tok Wan. And even then he was already attracted to her charming obstinacy. Nab had ambition and was headstrong – she wanted to be a teacher. They had a rather tempestuous relationship, and as it grew they saw no way that they could live together with their strong temperaments. He was willing to try but Nab kept deferring giving an answer to his proposal, afraid to lose her her independence and in zealous pursuit of her career.

Tok Wan married Hasnah, in some way to spite Nab, and to fulfill his parent’s wishes. Nab thereafter refused all other proposals of marriage, pursued her teaching career with a vengence and is today a retired headmistress, still unmarried and a little mellow. But each time she and Tok Wan met, they meet they still found things to quarrel about. Like at today's lunch, over of all things, her diaspproval of a new cologne he was using (a birthday gift from one of his grandsons), which she thought was too young for him. He let her have her say and did not mention her tinted hair and the bright orange baju kurung too showy for her age...

The gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the mango trees nearby as softly as the way Mak Nah would put a hand on him when he fell asleep on the porch to get him to come to bed. Twelve long years have passed without her. It was a very lonely period in the beginning. “Bagai berkurun lama kesepian...” (like a hundred years of loneliness) was a line of a song he often hear on radio these days and it just about summed up how he felt at that time.

Tok Wan closed his eyes. He could hear the sweet voice of Rafeah Buang from the maid's transistor radio. She too had long departed and Tok Wan remembered how Mak Nah used to love to hear her sing and thought that other female singers should emulate her descent image.

What had a man to celebrate his seventy-eighth year for, Tok Wan thought. He was the only one left from his own family of one brother and three sisters. Thank goodness for his own family, that was all a man at his age could claim. Mak Nah bore him six children who gave him twenty two grandchildren and three great grandchildren so far. Alhamdullilah, they are all alive except for his eldest son.

There were indeed few regrets in his life and he had a lot to be grateful for instead. He had been relatively healthy all his life except for minor ailments. He was still able to live on his own with the loyal Indonesian maid and her husband, refusing all invitations of his family members to move in with them. He could still go to the mosque and visit Mak Nah's grave on his own.

His friends wandered why he never remarried as most widower would do, if anything, for someone to look after him. And there was Nab, still single and matured, his very first love and the woman he had continued to love secretly for a big part of his married life. What would be more acceptable than to “salin tikar”(replace a carpet).

But no, he would not give Nab the satisfaction of being asked a second time by him. They were comfortable with their present canktankterous relationship. And Nab was quite set in her own life already having adopted two children who were now married and have children of their own. No, it would not be the thing to marry Nab, though Tok Wan sometimes thought that Mak Nah would have approved it. Tok Wan knew that Mak Nah was always discreetly aware that she was a second choice as his wife, and that her husband harboured an unfulfilled love for her sister.

At her death bed Mak Nah had whispered something to Nab, which Nab had kept a secret until today. Tok Wan would like to believe that it was Mak Nah’s will to Nab that she should marry Tok Wan if asked....

But now he would never know, and he would not ask the proud custodian of the secret either questions....