If you only read the books that everyone else is reading, you can only think what everyone else is thinking.
― Haruki Murakami, Japanese writer
It is certainly an awesome feeling. I am referring to the overwhelming response to my newly published book LONGHOUSE TO CITY.
Using social media FB and WhatsApp to reach out to friends, especially former colleagues and trainees from Rajang Teachers College, Bintangor, their reactions have been very good.
Some even opted to pay extra for the price as I need to use Pos Laju to send the RM50 book to each buyer. A generous friend (now with the Tan Sri honorific) from my RASCOM days in 1975 handed over to me a substantial amount, namely equivalent to the price of 20 copies of the books.
There has been a considerably tremendous response from friends, including two former teachers (now residing in their home cities in USA); my former Filipino colleague and his Pinoy kababayan in Manila and Brunei; friends from Brunei; India; UK; New Zealand; Canada and not to mention friends and Elvis fans as well as EP tribute artistes throughout our entire nation.
My joy of last week was highlighted by the sight and warm hug of my beloved pearl of beauty in the form of my estranged daughter and sole surviving offspring. The book plus a few novels by Jackie Collin, Jeffery Archer, Frederick Forsyth and other authors that she promised to collect years ago certainly became the main pull of her visit – her first since the country was hit by the pandemic and undergoing lockdown on March 18, 2020. As such, the books, especially the one I call my own, help reinforce our unity and that I get to hear frequent utterances of the word ‘daddy’.
A cousin, now a practising advocate and solicitor in Miri – after retiring from his Shell job and lengthy stay in Nigeria (where bananas are their staple food) – has also asked me to send him one.
Another cousin, a retired high-ranking civil servant has been told about the book but only gave me a congratulatory text. He doesn’t know he is featured in an article therein. A Datin friend here in Kuching has also ordered a copy.
Last week I had a rendezvous with an old friend who is the daughter of Sarawak’s first chief minister, the late Tan Sri Datuk Amar Stephen Kalong Ningkan. She is also a cousin of my first wife and was very ecstatic when realising that a passage inside my book mentions a dream regarding her late father.
Thus far, my uncle who is Kedap’s sole recipient of a datukship, is yet to response. Nevertheless, I am reserving a copy for him as he is featured highly in a chapter of the book. Another cousin, also a Datuk who retired as director of a government department a few years ago, now residing in Sarikei, is yet to be contacted. I am also keeping a copy for him.
Very soon I will reunite with an old flame – she was one year my senior in secondary school – who now resides in Kuching. A retired staff nurse who was trained in England and now a grandmother of three, A.K. (her initials) is waiting for my call to confirm our rendezvous. Our last meeting was in 2014. She looks forward to reading my pieces with one or two of the articles portraying veiled versions of our teenage crush.
At Rubber Road last week, I handed over a copy to my school friend cum distant cousin, just one year my junior. He said he enjoyed reading but suggested that I write about our experience during the 1971 National Day. He is now a retired primary school headmaster and every time that we met in the past, we always recalled that hahaha, hehehe moment in time.
Yes I do remember clearly what happened on Aug 31, that year. Then I was in Form Four and Uchak (not his real name) was in Form Three. As it was a public holiday, Uchak and I went down to Saratok town using a bus from the school, paying 40 sen for the trip.
The town was very busy with various activities going on – including a stall for lotto game ‘li chiu’(or ‘lepas tangan’). I remember having less than five ringgit in my pocket after paying for our bus fares as Uchak whispered to me he was totally penniless.
I was happy to meet my brother-in-law (a penghulu) who gave me RM10. Thirty minutes later we lost the RM10 in the ‘li chiu’ bets, thus leaving me with about four ringgit in my pocket. So Uchak and I went back to SMK Saratok using the old Saratok-Roban road – on foot. Due to hunger on the way we had to steal tapioca by the roadside and ate it raw…hahaha. What a folly! It remains intact in both our memories.
