Exactly three years ago, in the April of 2010, I was on the road towards a slow death and no one knew it. Maybe not even me! Or at least I didn’t realise how bad a state I was in until later.

I was still in Kangkong, Pasir Mas at that time living all alone in a house on stilts just off the main road leading to Tanah Merah, and about 40 metres from the mighty Kelantan River. It was a house that I had built with a government housing loan in the early 90’s; a house which I had then lost ownership of due to non-payment brought about by drug addiction. It was just 30 metres away from where my former wife’s house is. That was where I had lived and somehow survived from the last quarter of 2004 and until April 2010, with the exception of those 16 months where I had spent three months in the horrific Pengkalan Chepa Prison, and then a gloriously happy 13 months at Pusat Serenti Gambang. But big things were coming my way…

From late 2009, my health was slowly deteriorating. This was brought about mainly by my poor nutritional intake and general neglect of my own self. I had just gone through a divorce, which was very bitter at the start of the legal proceedings. Later, I was starting to totally withdraw myself from society again. It was two years after my release from Gambang and I was having difficulty trying to adapt and fit in with the society that I was forced to live with. “Forced” because, if given the choice, I would gladly have gone back to spend the rest of my life at Pusat Serenti Gambang. I was wondering what my purpose in life was – if things had not been what they later are, I might likely have relapsed and gone down that pit of misery yet again.

I was also the type who didn’t like to go anywhere. I also didn’t have any transportation – not even an old kapchai. The only way to get food was to wait for a bus or taxi and then go to town, which was 4.5 miles away. Often, I’d procrastinate until I was getting dizzy from the hunger before finally going. Usually, I would be content to just have oats from morning until night whenever I was hungry. The rest of the time was spent reading – either from printed material or from the internet. I was gradually losing weight and would suffer frequent bouts of constipation, some of which were very severe. How severe? Well, have you spent six hours in the toilet before? I had… a number times. However, I didn’t quite realise the bad state I was in – since I could get up and walk, I felt I “was okay”. Only later did I realise that I might have arrived at a point where there was no return.

But, yet again through the grace of God – as it was when He brought about the intervention in the form of my arrest on 12 August 2005 and the subsequent road towards rehabilitation, He put into motion what was to save me and bring forward to a new phase in life. And He did it through someone who accidentally stumbled onto this blog on 1 April 2010 – a reader who had used the name of “An Nisaa” in her comments. The regular readers already know what then transpired; plus I had already written a few posts about this. It is indeed remarkable of how things have gone from there – from when I made the big move to the west coast and until now, April 2013. A lot had happened in the last three years and this “An Nisaa” had recently written something about it at her blogImage

Earlier on, before making the move and also after it, I was burdened by one huge worry – that I would be a parasite to her. I didn’t have anything to offer – what was in it for her?? Here was someone so honest and sincere in wanting to help me, especially in getting my health back… and not expecting anything in return!  But I didn’t want to live like that – a life where one person gives while the other only takes. And, after the stay at Gambang and the lessons and realisations that came along with the experience, I resolved never, ever to be a parasite to anyone again. Definitely not to this woman.

But she, somehow, had faith in the future – for as long as we are honest and sincere, and for as long as we keep doing the right things and, most importantly, having faith and trust in Allah, things will turn out right. And they have!

After 12 years of unemployment or under-employment, I finally became productive again. I finally have the ability not only to support myself but also to fulfill my obligations. Thanks to this wonderful woman – the only person in the world who could ever love me this much, who has the courage to risk everything with me, and who has the patience to put up with all of my weaknesses and shortcomings – my life has moved forward to another phase and level. With me, the ability to also help her with what she is doing has given added meaning and purpose in life. The latest project that I’ve been involved with is in helping her move to a new office – an undertaking which we accomplished last month despite the obstacles which we had faced.

My wife, Aniza, had done the rounds before she found her true calling. Earlier in life, she had worked at managerial level with two well-known companies, Guthrie and Royal Selangor. But, as with many of us, there was also the certain uneasiness and desire “to do something else… something better, whatever that is.” With her, it is Perubatan Islam (Islamic Treatment System), which she had started in 2007 (Click here for Bitly link on Sistem An Nisaa). This was a progression from her interest in alternative healing which began with Colour Vibration Therapy a few years earlier.

ImageIt was also my interest in one of her products that had started it all – my curiosity of anything that says “Cendana” (Sandalwood) . Even from the start, I had a fascination with what she is doing; of someone who had left the comfortable corporate life and doing something that has a lot less certainty. There was also a certain attachment to her products the first time I received them in Pasir Mas… and of wanting to somehow be involved.

ImageWhen I first came here, she had sub-let an office at Desajaya Commerial Centre, Kepong. However, in May 2011, just three months after we were married, she had to move. It was a stressful time, especially when money was short. But, as always, God Knows best. As it later turned out, the move to Nusa Subang, which was nearer the house, was a very good decision – her practise became even more successful at the new office even though it was rather awkwardly located.

Nonetheless, I wasn’t really happy with where her office was. Again, she had sub-let it from someone else and not directly with the owner. It was also located at a rather “semi-industrial” area, with most of the units around there being used as stores. There was also a certain untidiness about the area with the local council (Shah Alam) generally neglecting it most of the time. But, out of necessity rather than choice, we simply had to take it due to our lack of resources.

Things took a dramatic turn from last February. Firstly, the main tenant decided to move to another office nearby. As a result, we had to take the whole floor, which also means paying a higher rental. My wife then decided to expand her business with her good friend by renovating the extra space and conducting training classes there.


Fortunately, before this was started (and spending valuable capital in the process), a new development forced us to evaluate the decision to stay there and take up a whole floor. Early last month, someone rented the ground-floor unit and turned it into a depot for recycled items… a besi buruk store! As seen from this picture, the besi buruk store made the already depressed-looking area even worse. That was the last straw – its presence made having and maintaining the pusat rawatan Islam there intolerable.

In a way, there was also relief for it meant we now can go look for a better place. At the same time, we were also worried because that would also mean higher expenditure. One day, while driving along the main road near the house, Aniza said “I want to show you these lots”… and turned into a road which I know had really nice corporate factories. I was thinking “This is a waste of time looking at them – we can’t possibly afford to rent a three-storey factory! And why would we want to?” But it was to another place – a recent development which I wasn’t even aware of despite it being so near!

ImageSunsuria The Core, in front of the famous Uptown and just off Persiaran Surian in Kota Damansara – when I first saw this spanking-new development, it was love at first sight. And it was the same with my wife – this is where we want to be! But we were quickly brought down to earth when both of us then asked the uncomfortable question: “Can we afford something so nice? The units look so expensive.” Well, there was no harm in asking – at least we’ll know for sure that we can’t afford it and move on. But we also know that we will always be thinking about it, especially if we find ourselves in a dinky office. And I wouldn’t be happy – I know what my wife is doing, her intentions, her abilities, of the people that she has helped and wants to… she deserves to have a decent office. Her patients deserve to be at a comfortable place. If Allah Helps us, then all will be well. And yet again, He came to our rescue!

Through a very earnest and cooperative real estate agent, Terry Tang, we discovered that “it was possible” to get a unit despite our small budget although we would need to meet the owner halfway and agree to something “a bit more”. That’s because there are units which are smaller than the “usual” office size. Here’s the deal: a unit that is smaller than the previous office (at 60% the floor area) but costs 50% more. It took us a few days to think and evaluate, besides looking at it three times with the agent (not to mention the other times when we drove around just to see and feel the area): We’ll take it.

ImageIt was a big decision and we were apprehensive about it. Besides the usual three-months-rental deposit, there was also the renovations that needed to be done. The unit was bare-bones empty with a concrete floor. And there’s also that big matter of moving things from the old office. All of these would be easily taken care of if we had a big budget – something we didn’t have. Again, we had to place our trust and hopes in Allah; that He would give us the energy and the help that we need. And again, He did just that.

ImageThose three weeks in March were among the busiest and most tiring ever for me. So many things to do and problems to overcome! But I also realise one crucial thing – with Aniza, when we are together, when we are sehati and do things together, we can achieve a lot. There’s energy in togetherness and when we do things honestly and sincerely. To cut costs, we did things ourselves whenever we could. And that included packing and hauling the smaller items with a borrowed pickup truck.

ImageThe renovating – we were fortunate in that someone we had known from the Nusa Subang office offered to help us to handle it. And we are very pleased with the cost and workmanship. The final major piece to the jigsaw was the airconditioning. It was something which we had spent days thinking about and discussing trying to come up with the best bang for the buck. We would look at a nearby office which took up three first-floor units – a company which obviously had a big budget – and then at ours with our very limited resources. But we were happy – despite everything, and despite the various problems and obstacles, we have succeeded in getting the office up and running. There isn’t a signboard yet though but at least the office is now fully operational (Click here for location on Google Maps) For me, there is the satisfaction and happiness in knowing that I have helped Aniza, the same way that she have helped me ever since three years ago. We can only pray to Allah that the new treatment centre will be a success; that my wife will be able to do what she wants in life, that is in helping others in their lives.


Readers who follow this blog and have read all the posts are surely aware of one very noticeable characteristic here: there isn’t any semblance of a system in the writing of the posts here. Sometimes there might be some sort of a sequence where one post is a logical continuation of the previous. But often – and I know to the annoyance of many readers – you simply don’t know and can’t predict what the next post will be about or when it will come out.

If it’s of any comfort to the reader, I don’t know either. I don’t have any timetable or even clear objectives when it comes to this blog and there certainly isn’t any kind of “To do” list of things that I am going to write about.  But I do know why I had started this blog in the first place. No, it’s not with the noble intention “to help others”, although I’m happy to note that it had indeed been of use to some readers. Rather, my original intention, which still remains until now, is this: I simply must write about this for my own sake. This is something which I had learned from Narcotics Anonymous: We need to look back at the past, see things as what and how they were and accept them. Only then could we live in the present and move on.

Letting Go

Seeing and accepting the past for what it is… and letting go

Many will acknowledge that doing so is indeed therapeutic and it works not just with recovering addicts but also with `normal’ people who are bogged down with various personal problems and carrying the burden of past guilts, slights, grudges and “If only” and “what-might-have-been”. “You must let go of the past… ”, says the wise but it’s not something that’s easy to do. Unfortunately, there is no other way and we have a choice here: continue to carry the burdens and live with the monkey on our backs in the form of the miseries, shame and dissatisfactions that inevitably affect the quality of our day-to-day living, OR move on.

If you have read all the posts here – plus my replies, some of which could be new posts by themselves – you might feel that I have already written “ a lot”. Would you believe that there’s a lot more… that I had written only 10 percent (if that) of what I know I should write about. This is not being narcissistic, that is in having an inflated idea of one’s perceived importance. Rather, the things that I have yet to write are not actually “about me” but a combination and mixture of personal experiences that are intertwined with the people whom I have known over my life so far. There are so many events in life – the “small” ones especially – which seemed insignificant when they happened… a passing remark by someone, a person’s response to an incident, something which I expected to happen but didn’t or vice versa etc. – nothing earth-shaking but “just everyday things.”  But upon reflection and with the benefit of hindsight and new experiences years later, these small incidents add up and help to provide new insights concerning this all-important matter that is “Life”.

The posts here: there are a lot of gaps. There is one very critical period of my life which I had not really delved into so far – the period of my relapse from 1993, which was the start of the downward spiral and the inevitable collapse and almost total destruction of my life that mercifully ended with the magistrate court’s order on 31 October 2005 to undergo compulsory treatment and rehabilitation for two years at Pusat Serenti Gambang (plus another two years of supervision by the AADK upon release).

A lot had happened during this period but I have yet to write much about it. I know very well the reason for this: cowardice… the fear and uneasiness of facing the shame, embarrassment and guilt of knowing that I had failed myself and those closest… especially the innocents – my children. This was the greatest torment of all; the biggest source of self-loathing and hatred of my own self.

1993 to 2005: it’s somewhat difficult to conceptualise; to really feel the passage of time that passed. Merely writing “12 years” just doesn’t leave much of an impact in the mind as to the length of time that went by; of the 365 days of a year… and another, and another…


No one starts taking drugs (AND alcohol too for that matter) with the intention of becoming an addict: it is always “to experience what it’s about”… “to just have a good time”. And certainly no one sets out to destroy his life; to lose everything that he has, including his self-worth. But it will happen when you set out on the spiral descent of addiction and when there’s no intervention to check the fall, to have the will and resources to change direction and to climb that (very) steep slope of recovery.

The addiction works in an insidious way – you simply don’t know that you are getting addicted! No alarm bell goes off; there isn’t any clear indication of the change because it is such a cunning and subtle evil. Different people may have different opinions of this but with me, the physical addiction with heroin and morphine is after three consecutive days of usage.

Given this fact, the layman might be led to conclude: “So don’t take it for three days then. Stop at two and things will be okay…” Actually, that was my thinking too, plus that of many others: this self-deluding “control your usage” which leads to a full-blown relapse again and again. From my own experience, which is verified by honest discussions with various inmates, and through observation, the truth is this: you simply can’t control using drugs – it’s drugs that will control you.  And regardless of how many consecutive days it may take for an individual to be physically addicted, it takes JUST ONE usage to be mentally addicted.

That was how I first got addicted when in Form 5 in 1976, and that was how it happened again in 1993 – the “Just this once” euphoric feeling immediately changed the mental state from “everyday normal” to wanting to be in a pleasurable state all the time; to `cheat life’ by not having to feel the boredom and drudgery which everyone has to go thorough occasionally. The stage is set for a continuation of the “Just this once”, again and again looking for that euphoria which would never come again. In this quest to seek that elusive euphoria, the physical and mental addictions grow ever stronger. And then one day – days, weeks, months or whatever -you finally acknowledge that you are addicted.

You’d try to stop by undergoing cold turkey – “Seven days clean should do it”. It should… except that you will also discover the harsh fact that you don’t have enough will and strength to voluntarily undergo the 24/7 pain and torment brought about by a narcotics withdrawal. With the body in agony, with no lying down or sitting position being `right’, and not being able to get any temporary respite through sleep, the mind torments you with this choice: “Continue with this for yet another few days to be clean and undergo yet more torture, OR bring all the pain and torment to an immediate end?” You also know that all it takes is just a dose and all the pain and torment will miraculously disappear within 10 seconds. Guess which an addict in that state would voluntarily choose 99% of the time?

And so it went for me; the days of being addicted turned to weeks, then months and then years. Along the way, life gradually took a turn for the worse, bit by bit until it went beyond repair and collapsed. As with a wooden house, it doesn’t come down just like that due to a storm. Neglect weakened the structure, and then came termites. Something could still have been done to mitigate the situation but it would have required effort and resources, which could only come about through a strong will and various support to do so. But when nothing substantial was done, the house the house inevitably deteriorated until it reached a tipping point. And then came the collapse.

If I have to pinpoint when my collapse was, I would mark it at 1999. That was the year when my previous marriage essentially ended and life was just a series of unending hostility and bitterness. That was also when I was practically unemployed, without anything and was all alone. The worst part was the hopelessness – during that time and in that state, there was nothing I could do to even try to improve my situation. And I had no one to turn to. Life was just a continuation of one dreary day to the next; of living a life where there wasn’t any hope or anything to look forward to – 1999, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005… 

Longest Day_Book

I don’t know how I had managed to survive, to go through all those years of emptiness and loneliness. But go through I did, simply because God didn’t want take away my life just yet and I still had a sliver of akidah left so as not to commit the ultimate wrong against my own self. There were times when I was in total despair – if there was a way to give away my life to anyone, I gladly would. I didn’t see any point in living my life – there was NOTHING left in it or to hope for and that its continuation “was just a punishment from God; that the remainder of my life will comprise solely of misery and drudgery.” I was wrong, of course, and I started to see a bit of His Powers on 7 November 2005 when I arrived at Pusat Serenti Gambang; of His Signs and the opportunities He had Created for me to do something about my life, beginning with ME. That was the greatest gift of all and things gradually changed – so much beyond what I had even dared to fantasize during those depths of despair.

But I have gotten ahead of myself, going yet again to revisit those happy days at Gambang. The tipping point and collapse in 1999: like a house, it didn’t happen just like that. “Things happened” along the way – from that fateful decision that began with the relapse and the downward spiral which went unmitigated. I just hope I will have the courage to look back at it and write it here so that I will be free…  

I’ve read quite a number of books in my lifetime thus far but for some reason J.R.R Tolkien’s The Lord of The Rings (LoTR) wasn’t one of them, unfortunately. I had been aware of this title since long ago but somehow I’ve never had the chance to read it.

I was also aware of the LoTR films, beginning with The Fellowship of the Ring in 2001 which was a box-office hit since there were frequent references to it in the newspapers. But I didn’t have the opportunity to watch it or the sequels of The Two Towers and The Return of The King – when the LoTR films were all the rage, my life had totally crumbled due to the addiction.


There was the curiosity to know what it was all about but I simply didn’t have the means or resources to watch these films. That was a time when I had practically nothing except for an obsolete 1998 desktop computer with a 200 MHz speed and 32 MB of RAM which I was still using in 2005. It was adequate enough though – after all, you don’t need the latest computer to have access to the internet… to emails and newsgroups especially, which were my sole contact to the outside world. It was very slow – a top speed of merely 33 kilobits (not bytes)/second. But it was okay for me – speed and features are secondary to me. It’s the content and ability to contact others (and be contacted) that mattered the most. Unfortunately, from 2002 onwards, my phone line was disconnected due to non-payment of the bills… and with it, my connection to the outside world. Handphones were already common enough even at that time but I didn’t have one – I simply could not afford to buy or maintain one. Without a phone, access to the internet and with no one who cared, I was cut off from the rest of the world.

The only thing that kept me sane during those dreary years were books. To be precise, “reading”. Some people might call me a snob but this is just me, for better or for worse: I’m only interested in reading material that’s in the English language. And nothing else. That created a problem for me – Pasir Mas, Kelantan isn’t exactly the centre of English literacy so where was I to get books in English? The public library? Believe it or not, I had read practically all of the English books there! It’s not really because I was a voracious reader – it’s simply because there were only a very limited number of books there. I was desperate for something to read – something to take my mind away from the dreariness and misery that was life, from the torment of having failed my children, from living a life that was without hope. Without books, my life would have been totally empty… without books, I doubt I could have managed to force myself to just live yet another day.

But through the Grace of God, the internet came to my rescue, as it had time and time again. Out of desperation, I figured out that having access to material in digital format would be as good as the printed form. As long as my computer kept working, I would manage somehow. During those days when I managed to scrape enough money for the bus fare to Pasir Mas (RM1.60 return) and an hour at the internet cafe (RM2.00), I would download various titles from that excellent site of Project Gutenberg and save these files to a diskette. Various titles by Franz Kafka, Friedrich Nietzsche, Henry David Thoreau, Fydor Dostoevsky and various 19th. Century Russian writers and whatever else titles that I came across were saved. And I would then spend almost all of my waking hours reading these titles from the computer’s monitor. I’d much prefer to read from books, of course, but in that situation anything was better than not being able to read. That was my temporary escape from the emptiness of life…

I attempted to try and make some sort of a living from my dire situation where I was essentially alone and not receiving any help or encouragement from anyone. With my minimal resources and the very limited opportunities, I tried to be a freelance writer the best that I could. Occasionally, my articles would be published by the technology pullout of The Star. It was very tough though. That’s because you need to do some researching and interviewing to come up with the material to write – you simply can’t pull things out of thin air, unless if you’re writing fiction (and even then you’d still need to do some research). Not having access to the internet was a major handicap. But I tried – I’d think of what to write and then search for material when I’m at the internet cafe. This would then be saved to the diskette to be re-read from the computer at home later. When I had enough material, I could then write something. It was tedious, troublesome and it pains me that no one cared to help me try to start anew and maybe salvage something from the ruins that was my life.

But regardless of the obstacles, I did manage to write quite a number of articles. I even attempted to write something in which I had absolutely no previous knowledge of – intellectual property. I knew the payment wouldn’t commensurate with the time and energy spent; of days reading legal writings and articles just to get a grip on the matter. But I went ahead… because I wanted to.

When writing this particular article, Tolkien’s epic came to mind and I rephrased it to be “Lords of the intellectual property ring“. Both my chosen title and the whole content were published by In.Tech, The Star in May 2005 (Ah, now all the readers here will know my real name!) I had only discover today, after doing a Google search, that it was also mentioned in an Arizona State University article! I wonder what they would have thought had they known that the person who had written it was a total nobody who never had a single day of grounding in legal matters… someone who was all alone and was to be arrested and incarcerated just three months after the article’s publication.

The saga of Lord of The Rings would continue for me at Pusat Serenti Gambang. Two months into my stay, free television (can’t remember whether it was TV2 or TV3) helped to make it even more memorable for me by showing The Fellowship of The Ring at the end of December 2005. This was followed by The Two Towers a few weeks later. At last!… I finally know what the story was all about!

My tenure at Pusat Serenti Gambang was the single most important and most poignant period in my life up to that point. And seemingly `ordinary’ events like seeing LoTR turn into special moments that live on in memory, which come back again and again whenever they reappear.  When any of the Lord of The Rings films were shown on one of Astro’s channels (which is fairly frequent), I find it hard to resist – I simply must watch again and again, if only to relive those happy days at Gambang when life finally made sense.

There are also many memorable scenes and characters from the three films. I’m sure that those who like the LoTR films have their favourites. When it comes to “most favourite characters”, mine is probably different from most people – no, it’s not Frodo Baggins or any of the Hobbits. Nor everyone’s favourite of Aragorn or Gandalf the Wizard. Or Gimli the Dwarf or Legolas the Elf. It’s… the Nazgul/Ringwraith/Black Rider/Dark Rider (Below). Seriously. 


“Now why would anyone like the Nazgul?!”, you might ask. I don’t know – I just like seeing them, just as I like watching “T-Bag” in Prison Break. Maybe it’s because I’m fascinated by them – my first ever reference was through a song I first heard when I was 15, and have liked ever since – Led Zeppelin’s Battle of Evermore (“The Ringwraiths ride in black…” and “Shoot straighter than before…” which reflects the desperation of the castle’s defenders in facing the massive force against them). But whatever, the Nazguls are memorable – their heartlessness, single-mindedness and dedication, the fear they evoked. I can watch again and again the scenes they were involved in… the Nazgul jumping off his horse near where the Hobbits were hiding among the tree roots… chasing after the Hobbits at the river crossing… barging through the gates at the town and running over the poor gatekeeper… riding a dragon over the marshes. Plain nasty!

But there are also a few other scenes which left a lasting impression in me involving Arwen, the daughter of Elrond, the Elves King. I would look back to when I first saw them when at Gambang in 2005/06 and then later – from 2010 onwards – with completely different perceptions and understandings. She loved Argorn of Gondor, who is a human… a mortal with a very short lifespan as compared to the elves, who lived to be thousands of years. Her father had reminded her of this – that she would live the rest of her life all alone when Argorn dies. (The link to the video clip is here)

The dialogue is like poetry:

“If Aragorn survives this war, you will still be parted. If Sauron is defeated and Aragorn made king and all that you hope for comes true, you will still have to taste the bitterness of mortality. Whether by the sword or the slow decay of time, Aragorn will die… And there will be no comfort for you – no comfort to ease the pain of his passing.”

“He will come to death an image of the splendor of the kings of Men in glory undimmed before the breaking of the world. But you, my daughter, you will linger on in darkness and in doubt as nightfall in winter that comes without a star. Here you will dwell bound to your grief under the fading trees until all the world is changed and the long years of your life are utterly spent.”

But Arwen chooses love, to be with the mortal even when she knows that life with him will be short and that she will have to spend the rest of her long years alone (See the scene here – different from the previous one above). During my first viewing of it at Gambang, my thought was “Wow!… but this is only a story. No woman can be like that. And even if there are such women, they have nothing to do with me. It’s not likely that any woman could have much love for someone with nothing, is nothing…”

Can’t blame me for having such thinking. At that time, my marriage then was all but destroyed; of two people living a life of hurt, bitterness and distrust. And even during the best of times, I simply couldn’t imagine “Arwen’s love and choice” or that something close could ever exist. “It’s just a story… exaggerated… nonsense.” Even if it does exist, “it can’t possibly ever involve me. Not at my age. Not with my situation…”

I was wrong… fortunately. And I thank Allah for my being wrong. By coincidence, my wife had also written a post about this at her blog earlier. I knew she was going to write something because she had asked my permission to use a BlackBerry message which I had sent to her a few days ago… when I was watching The Fellowship of The Ring yet again and telling her what it meant to me. So, I’ll just end my post here and let her post of A Bedtime Story be the sequel… just like The Lord of The Rings.

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My Best Friend’s Wedding

January 28, 2011

[*Someone’s* status update at Facebook on 6 May 2009] 

“Prospective Wife’s Minimum Academic Qualifications & Standards” :

  • Must have a Masters degree; or at least two degrees in different fields.

  • Must also possess a minimum proficiency in English that is equivalent to the GCE A-Levels or better.

  • Able to understand and tolerate `standard Malay’, English and the Kedah dialect spoken with an odd, decidedly Kelantan rhythm and intonation.

Now which snobbish and eccentric aristocrat – real or assumed – would insist on these unconventional requirements? And what does he have to reciprocate for the stringency demanded? By the way, there’s another requirement that was not originally included:

  • Having shelves of books, magazines and other reading material (must be in English) will be an added advantage.

All the above were what I `had insisted on’ at Facebook on May 6, 2009 upon returning from the Syariah court after I was officially divorced. These (requirements) were apparently in jest — ostensibly, looked like it, so it seemed… What else could it be? In fact, that’s what I had felt too, at that time. But deep inside, subconsciously, maybe the soul and spirit was trying to tell me something…


By the way, I wish to state again that, although my plans and attempts to reconcile were undermined and sabotaged “by certain third parties – each with his/her hidden (but quite visible) agenda” -  the lafaz cerai on May 6 was made by my choice and on my own accord. The judge had made an important decision “against me” during the previous hearing, but it was something that I could have had revoked on appeal. And this was something that I had wanted to do, and I had even discussed it with a lawyer.

I must admit here that I had lost sight of my original intentions to salvage the marriage and to make amends. I had thought that the only way I could do something about all of my wrongs towards my four children especially, was to ensure that the 23-year marriage to their mother remained intact. I was therefore dismayed and angered by the decision, for I knew that the court was manipulated towards that by the various deceit; including by supposedly `pious’ , `respectable’ and `dependable’ members of the local society.

From the information that I received, and from the written minutes of the case that I had obtained, I discovered how they had maliciously taken full advantage of the prejudice against someone who had been in police lockups, prisons and pusat serenti to poison with half-truths, insinuations and pure hearsay. Saving the marriage and to make amends weren’t the goals anymore – my sole objective at that time was to publicly humiliate a few people. And this I would do during the cross-examination on appealing for a review of the decision.

But I decided to refrain from doing so after hearing the opinions of eight people whom I have high regards for. They include people whom I’ve come to know through this blog especially, and although I had never met them, I know they are people whom I can – and do – trust fully. It was a difficult decision to make, for I’m the fighter type: it doesn’t matter if I get hurt or die in the process, figuratively speaking … if I can inflict something on the other side, then that’s fine enough. I wanted to extract my pound of flesh – plus interest. But I made the decision to listen to them; the people whom I know sincerely care about me.

The judge was surprised by the change; especially when I was so magnanimous with my concessions. During the previous hearing, my former wife had stated that she was willing to pay some `compensation’ (I forgot what the term is. Does anyone know, please?). The May 6 hearing would have presented me the chance to extract more, and to pay as little alimony as possible. That’s what most people would do.

But after being touched by the advice and opinions, “I wasn’t most people” on May 6. When the judge asked how much I wanted as compensation, I announced: “Toksae langsung” (None at all). That resulted in soft murmurs among the spectators present – [“This is so different from the cases heard before this guy. Who is he?”]

It was the same for the payment to my former wife (eddah). While those before me had twisted and turned to try pay the bare minimum – and grudgingly so at that (try being a busybody spectator at your nearest syariah court to see and hear what transpires here) -  I offered something more than that. In fact, the judge had helpfully told me “That’s quite a lot. The cost of living in a kampung isn’t much – you can pay less…” My reply: “Tak apa, Yang Arif. Saya nok buwi jugok secemok tu” (the hearing had degenerated from some use of standard Malay to full Kelantan dialect in less than a minute. "That’s alright, Your Honour. I wish to give that much anyway.”)

And so it was – after the judge gave advice that “we not think so much about ourselves, and make decisions based on the children’s benefit”, I pronounced the Cerai – it was loud and clear, to the full satisfaction of the judge. 2011002

I went to a restaurant after that, and sent messages about what had transpired to the eight people. I was especially struck by what my father then sent. It was a copy of his message to my sisters: in it he had said “Syukur”  (Grateful to God). Huh? Why should it be so – I had just divorced!? He had also mentioned something that I had thought to be merely consolatory words; that “…now the way is opened for Mat to further improve himself.” 

This is something that I had learned – lessons paid for in blood, sweat and tears; and something that I’m quite sure most of you will agree: that parents’ words are masin (literally `salty’, but in this context means `often fulfilled by God’).

Anyway, on Tuesday 25 May 2010, I finally left Pasir Mas, Kelantan. It’s true that I had lived elsewhere before, including in Johor Baru, Gambang and Kuantan. However, I had always felt that these were just temporary; that I, like Douglas MacArthur, “shall return”. MacArthur Leyte 


CAPTION: MacArthur returns to Leyte, Philippines in October 1944



But this time it was different: although I was sure that I would come back to Kelantan, it would just be for social visits or whatever. After all, my four children were all born in Kelantan (both daughters at their mother’s house while the boys were at the HUSM Kubang Kerian and the Pasir Mas Hospital) – it will always be a part of me. However, there won’t be any more of “returning”, as I had previously felt for 28 years, for my heart is now elsewhere, and with someone else…

As a postscript to the above: after eight months, I did go back to Pasir Mas with the 8.30PM Ekspres Wau train from KL Sentral last Monday; reaching there at 9.30 AM the following morning. There was something that I needed to take care of at the district religious office. After this matter was settled, I bought the return ticket to KL – it was at 7.18PM, and the time then was only 11-something. So I took the Number 46 SKMK Tok Uban bus, and I got down at this place below … my former wife’s house.


CAPTION: Pix taken at 5.45PM while waiting for a taxi across the road with the toy `camera’ function in my cheapo Nokia 2630 handphone.

My elder daughter, who has just completed her Degree in Education 5-year course and is waiting to be posted, was there. So were my former in-laws… and my youngest, who came back on his Honda Wave motorcycle from 28 miles away when I sent him a text message that I was in Pasir Mas. My former wife wasn’t there though.

2011000There wasn’t any awkwardness at all; neither with me nor with my former in-laws. I chatted with them in the kitchen, and told them about my eldest son, who is now in Batang Kali (more about him, my other children etc and how things intertwined later… in Part 2). They were especially relieved to know about him – the same son whom I mentioned in the previous post who had left home in August 2005… just a week before I was detained.

My in-laws knew about how things were with me – they have reliable sources in my eldest son and the two daughters. And they now also know about “the things at the syariah court” – of who did and said what, when, to whom and the real reasons. That’s from this blog especially: as I had known, some of my former wife’s relatives read the posts here…

Anyway, the short visit left an impression in me. They and this place were also a part of me, and whatever had happened were God’s Will and in the past. There have been a lot of lessons learned – for everyone. As I waited for a taxi to go to the train station towards dusk (the pix above), I felt something in me: there and then, I decided to let go of whatever it was between me and my former wife. I’ve made mistakes, and so did she. At that place and time, I made the decision: that I forgive her about everything, whatever her thoughts, words or actions and regardless of whether these were intentional or otherwise. I can only hope that she would feel the same towards me.

And at that time and place, I have only good thoughts and wishes for her: I wish that she will find happiness in her life, and that her life will become better and better. There had been a lot of bitterness and dissatisfaction previously – the “he said, she said” thing, of which I don’t see any point to delve into anymore. I hope she will also move on… as I do now.

(TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 2. Yes, I know many are wondering how the title tallies with the post, because it seems “like something else”. Sorry – I had simply written what came to mind with no systematic plan or editing… and suddenly it has become this long. Just regard this as “the introduction” – Part 2 is the real thing.)

What a Wonderful World

January 6, 2011

A LOT of things have happened to me over the past five years – a combination of things and events that most people would never encounter even if they lived to be 100.

(1) In August 2005, my eldest son Matyin, then 20, left home without telling anyone. Over the past decade, it had turned into a place of confusion, sorrow and hardship — a condition brought about by my having done something that was the epitome of irresponsible behaviour and sheer stupidity.

(2) But a lot worse was the moral cowardice as shown by my failure to check the downward spiral by taking the necessary remedial actions to rectify the situation. They required courage and resilience to undertake and sustain…qualities I lacked. The knowledge that the innocents had suffered, and that I was responsible: this was the worst torment by far. The feeling of guilt and shame ate into me; with ever increasing hatred of my own self.

(3) A week later, another tragic event struck: I was detained by the police and was incarcerated in remand at a dreadfully abusive and violent prison. I was alone; essentially without family, relatives or friends – abandoned by everyone…

(4) This was followed by another 13½ months of separation from my family and children; coming about from a court order to undergo treatment and rehabilitation at a pusat serenti (one-stop rehabilitation centre). I remained there right until the end of 2006.

(5) Upon returning to Pasir Mas, Kelantan, there was the hassle of reporting to the police-station and the AADK (National Anti-Drugs Agency) once a month – plus attend activities organised by the latter, ending only at the end of 2008.

(6) After the December 2006 discharge and until March 2008, I was essentially idle for 15 months; with no work, no money, no opportunities, and without the most basic means to communicate with the world. I had nothing, and to many people, was nothing.

(7) If the above aren’t enough, in June 2008, my wife filed for a divorce. Despite the best of intentions and effort, including my attempts to make amends for all the wrongs that I had done in the pre-Gambang years, I was willing to sacrifice, to make painful changes – all that I asked was the opportunity to do so. But as the respondent, I failed to prevent the breaking up of the 24-year marriage.

(8) The frustration and dismay that followed was secondary as compared to the feeling of outrage after discovering the deceitful, and at times cowardly manner, in which a few third parties had undertaken to undermine my case.

“Witness”, “Arbitrator”, “Adjudicator” are among their official descriptions – they were involved not only a legal case where the universal concept of “truth and justice” are paramount. More importantly, it was a Syariah court, and therefore the religion of Islam was at the very forefront.

That being the situation, one would certainly expect everyone1 connected to be aware of and strictly adhere to basic Islamic principles which even kindergarten kids are able to understand and accept… the truth and justice above. And that lying, manipulating, covering facts or selective presentation that would distort, obscure or overly magnifying something is the way of syaitan and the munafik.

But that was what had happened.


CAPTION: “Lebai-X Photo” WHO is Lebai-X?? Clue: Find him at the Mahkamah Syariah Pasir Mas.

And how ironic – the “pious, Islamic-image, salt of the kampung earth and pillars of the society” menganiaya and menzalimi a “bad, jahat, jahil bottom-rung ex-prison and pusat social outcast”!

1(Islam 101: “Wearing a kupiah, jubah and having a goatee does not exempt one from adhering to the above. Nor serve as `a shield’ from shouldering the dosa.)

Yes, I know that those who are close to and concerned about me might ask: “Why bring up this again, and now? Just leave it to Allah – HE Knows what to do with them and when if they had maliciously wronged you.”

Yes, I know; and I am leaving it to Allah. The reason why I’m mentioning is because it was one of the major things that had happened to me during the five-year period. And the other reason is this: I want to THANK them. Really. Sort of…

As it turned out, the divorce had then created and opened up “situations and circumstances that are definitely to my benefit albeit unplanned!” These `lebai kampung’, `oghe sohor’ (kampung, bandar, internet, blog – semua tempat oghe kenal and ikut… influential kelas giler, `Mark Zuckerberg Pasir Mas’ HAHA!)

So, to this illustrious local alumni – and I KNOW will read or hear this;-) – please receive my thanks: “Tok seko-seko deh… puok demo hakikatnya susoh-susoh (TER)jadi BARUAH FREE ko kawe! HAHA!

(i) By the way, this particular post is written not by “Cendana287” but the incarnation who writes at the Mat Cendana: HACK WRITER blog. “They are in the same physical body, so what’s the difference? …” The former is `the Gambang self’… amicable, obliging, peaceable, tends to turn the other cheek and strives to improve.

Mat Cendana: the hybrid of the above and that of the pre-Gambang self known as `A.S’ who had strived to improve the venom, acidity and laser-sharpness of his self and words. This is said not with egoistic pride, vainness or conceit but with some shame and regret about not being more forgiving. Try asking those from “back then” who knew this A.S (here at WordPress, Blogger or Facebook)… like Mekyam (the best writer without her own blog), Sheri Din, Faten Rafei, Rehman Rashid (YES, the A Malaysian Journey author). Okay, enough name-dropping for this week:-)

(ii) I’m very well aware of the lurkers at the Recovery blog – `locals’ as in `people who live where I had or not far away, OR/AND people who had known me.’ And they have their own reasons to WANT TO KNOW about me! That’s flattering:-)

[Yes, I know some/many people are probably puzzled by this “odd/bizarre/`macam mental sikit’” post. Don’t worry – a few parts are “for a specific audience” .

By the way, about my eldest son, Matyin above: I’m pleased to tell all of you that he is… HERE! Yes, with me at this very moment at Dr Aniza’s treatment centre at Desa Jaya Commercial Centre, Kepong, 52100 Kuala Lumpur.]

NEXT POST: My Best Friend’s Wedding (A continuation of this post – AND MORE)




During the process of this matter especially, I was dismayed and incensed by the words and actions of some people; especially since they were also Malaysian, Malay by race and, I presumed, followed the religion of Islam. I had also presumed and through the malicious and deceitful words and actions of some people, I was exposed to these facts: i) fore

It’s four years since I was discharged on Decor two years 18, 2006.

God has brought some very important people into my life. Indebted to them. I want to repay…


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