I had a lot Malay influence in my early life. Between 1-2 years I had a Malay lady and her many kids taking care of me while my mother went to work. Between 3-5 I had a Malay imaginary friend called 'Ita' and I was 'Ina'. When I was 5 plus I made friends with a Malay boy my age from the opposite house called Anuar. We communicated via sign language and together we secretly ventured towards the army camp to have a closer look at Caribou helicopters. We almost made it but got caught midway by one of my grandparent's friend who spotted us hiding behind a garbage wall when we saw him. This still remains as one of the regular jokes in the family of me running away with a Malay boy.
Then in my primary I went to Malay school and addressed myself as 'kami' as per Perak slang. I even spoke Malay to my family more than I did tamil much to the annoyance of my 2 younger uncles Siva and Mahen and my aunt Mano, who bullied me about it.
Yes, terrible bullies they were. The three stooges. Uncle Siva called me Gorila, Uncle Mahen and Aunt Mano would rob me of my well-kept stationeries every morning before they went to school as they were always losing theirs. So I would go to school and find my pencil box empty and bawl my eyes out. But they were closest to my age, about 8 years difference, hence I tried tagging along with them though they tried their best to lose me like a little pest. Mainly because they were always upto some mischief .. and scared I would tell on them !
Not being to tolerate their bullying, I reached out elsewhere. As I was forbidden to make friends with most of the neighbourhood kids who often shoplifted in my grandparent's shop. My favourite pastime was locking myself in an old goat's house and losing myself in a make believe world with old clothes and books. After some time, I started making friends with mopsticks, dogs, chickens, trees and plants but even at that age, I yearned for some human connection.
Then one day, while I was trying to climb a rambutan tree, I heard a voice say in Malay, "hey, be careful, you will fall.. girls are not supposed to climb tree anyway". It was one of the Malay boys from the JKR quarters on the otherside. His name was Sazali. His brother Jamali was my age. He opened a whole new world opened for me. All three of us would troop into the nearby woods in search of bamboo and meanwhile stumble upon other adventures. Sazali taught me to make a kite frame with shaven bamboo, paste it on tracing paper with home made glue and tied the sides with a long thread. He then would ask me to draw designs on it and colour it because he said I drew nicely though he was actually better at it. Together the three of us would climb up a small hill nearby and fly those beautiful kites. If the wind was not favourable for playing kites, he would take us fishing and introduce us to wild fruits. Meanwhile I saw he had a bad skin disorder and I offered him cotton, gauze and flavine from my mother's free clinic supply to bandage it.
On Hari Raya, we would group other friends together and formed a convoy of 15 odd something bicycles and cycle all over town to teachers' homes and other friends home to visit. After a few visit, we would get sick of red syrup and sweet cookies and only went on for the Duit Raya. Lol! Used to make good Duit Raya those days.. even 30ringgit which was big for us then. Ah, those were wonderful days!
Sazali and I became best friends. he was very kind and gentle to me. Took care of me like a big brother. Never bullied me once!! Being an only child had its fair share of loneliness. One day, in a spur of childhood impulse, he even asked me to convert to Islam so that he could marry me one day! I was 8, he was 10! He even got me to 'ucap dua kalimah syahadat'. I made a grave mistake of telling my mother about Sazali's 'proposal' who then mentioned it to my 2 uncles! What they did next could have come out of any Tamil movie where the girl is not allowed to meet the boy! They locked me up in my room and when Sazali came looking for me, they threatened to beat him up so bad, they boy was shaken. I was also warned that if I made any attempt to meet him, they would beat him up too. I was totally ashamed of what my uncles had done and couldn't face Sazali after that. And thus, that prematurely ended a good friendship.
Life went on. I went to secondary school and still had Malay friends around me more than I did other races. But after some time, a gap started to appear. That was the time Anwar Ibrahim was advocating all those new Islamic concepts. School children were urged to wear baju kurungs and head gear. Suddenly it became a no-no for a non Muslim to even utter 'assalamualaikum' . Though I had taken Islamic studies since the age of 8 till 15, suddenly our Ustaz was discouraging me from taking his classes. The Malay students started to keep to themselves. It was all the way down from there. Day by day, the gap grew further.
Today is Hari Raya. My daughter is 8 and she doesnt know any Malay friends to go visiting. I sent her to Tamil school so she could learn the language and more importantly so that her young mind would not be disillusioned by strong racial discriminations in the Malay schools. It is unfortunate but one can only make the best of a situation. Maybe one day things will get better. Selamat Hari Raya!
