WHEN an unplanned and coincidental meeting happens, it makes one wonder and reflect with a sharpened inquisitive edge at the chances of the stars being perfectly aligned in the sky to what purpose if not to create the right pull and resonance.
The effect is to emanate a harmonious wavelength that evokes a sense of celebration of the propitious meeting of minds and the reunion of two kindred souls. Even on a seemingly normal or common occasion. There is always the unseen dimension lurking behind the seen and the obvious. Like a shadow that sticks to the subject becoming obvious only when a spot light is cast on the subject.
We cannot help but wonder to ourselves, asking how we are all somehow inter-connected or that there always seems to be something more than meets the eye. Something which we can’t quite explain but we just know that it is there. All because we can feel and experience it. For what is reality in this temporal realm if we can’t somehow feel or experience it, whether emotionally, intellectually or spiritually. A fair and valid assertion, it is opined. That nexus and connection is the intriguing coincidence and unexplained mystery in a world of lights and shadows, of forms and non-forms.
Now we come to the narrative and palette. Some five years ago, on the 12th of April 2017, on my first ever trip to Long Lellang, a charming village located Southwest of Bario, I bumped into someone in the Rural Air Service departure lounge at the Miri Airport. I have heard a lot about Lg Lellang throughout the years but never had had the opportunity to visit the place even once. So out of the blue, I took the decision one day to fly there for a short visit. At the time I made the booking and thereafter until that day in question, I never imagined meeting Sameon after having not met him for ages! I recall that the last time I met him was like eons ago, yes indeed a long time ago when I was just a pre-teen boy.
I just know him by his given name ‘Sameon’ and by his other name, ‘Balang Meput’ (lit., The Perfect or Complete Tiger or The Tiger Who is Everywhere/Universal) who, true to form and tradition, had dutifully changed his name from his given or bachelor name to ‘The Tiger Who is Everywhere (Ever-Present)’ to mark the occasion of the birth of his first born. All as dictated by Kelabit custom and tradition. So that was how ‘Sameon’ metamorphosed into Balang Meput, The Everywhere Tiger Man or however one may want to translate the import and meaning of the traditional name. Yes, traditional names are such, they have many shades of meanings. Useful for the ‘adih’ songs and ‘lakuh’ renditions.
At the time I met Sameon aka Balang Meput, he was already 83 years old. Unbeknown to me, he was at the Miri airport that day because he was en route to his village, Lg Lellang, where I was coincidentally planning to go to on the very same day. Needless to say, it was a pleasant surprise. How he ended up in a faraway village was due to his father Lian (one of my mum’s two brothers) who left his village at 20 plus years of age, to settle down in Lg Lellang village. From then on, he was more or less ‘lost’ to us and probably hardly met his siblings in Bario. I have not even met Uncle Lian myself, but I heard of him from my mother and two aunties, his three sisters. Yes, Balang Meput the Perfect Tiger was Lian’s son.
A happy day indeed it was that day when I saw him for the first time, and I asked myself that this guy sitting a few matters away looked familiar. Sharing the same DNA would be sure catalysis to recognise each other, I would guess. I walked towards him and then tentatively asked him a direct, “Do you know me?” – a calculated and intended line of inquiry, something much safer than asking him “Are you Sameon?” In the later, he could say “no” if he could not recognise me and that would be the end of the conversation – thereby an abrupt termination of the quest.
In reversing the object of enquiry from him to me, I guaranteed some form of exchange and inquisitive search and thereby improving the chances and effectiveness of my inquiry, before the conversation terminated. So, in doing so, I have passed the burden of recalling onto him. On seeing me and hearing my voice, he asked me ‘Kan iih tabe’ iko nah?’ – meaning ‘well, who are you actually?’ To which I replied, ‘uih inih, Medan, anak Maya Ulun!’ (It’s me, Medan, son of Maya Ulun!).
Needless to say, there was instant recognition when name, voice and face connected everything together in his mind. “Oh, is that you?” he shot back. We ended up talking nonstop with each other from that point on, in the corner of the lounge, and continuing on in an animated conversation well into the flight on the Twin Otter plane from Miri to Lg Lellang. There was so much to catch up on. An unplanned and coincidental ‘Jejak Kasih’ or ‘in the footsteps of love’ moment. One of the filial piety kind.
To show my excitement at this welcomed but chanced meeting at the hands of Providence, I did what is the modern-day thing to do, and the not unexpected SOP (standard operating procedure) for this kind of occasion. I posted our picture in my Facebook for the benefit of our relatives and friends, with a matching message to a picture of the two of us together, as follows:
“To relatives and friends out there, note our connections (close relations). Please share with your children so they will know. His name is ‘Balang Maput’ which means ‘Ever Present Tiger’! His name as a boy was ‘Sameon’, after the name of the legendary founder of the Brunei Sultanate, Awang Samiun, who was reputed to be of Kelabit origin by the accounts of our ancestors and the old generations before us, and apparently was also written about somewhere by some third party, a westerner. Most likely, by Tom Harrison, I believe.”
Coincidentally, my own traditional name ‘Balang Nadun’ followed the same naming protocol of linkaging to the ‘Tiger’, a highly regarded animal in the universe of tradition, folk culture, and customs of the Kelabits – and for obvious reasons attributable to the majestic traits of the animal.
Paradoxically, there are no tigers in Borneo. Not in the present. So, either the tigers were hunted down to extinction by the superb hunters that the Kelabits were, or the Kelabits must have migrated from a place where tigers existed.
I heard of tales of long hunting forays into the rainforest which lasted weeks, even months, from my father. Those trips were special hunting trips after the rhinoceros, which to my knowledge is an extinct species in Sarawak. No thanks to those superb hunter trackers with unmatched skills in the navigation and total mastery of their given environment. So, how else could one explain the uncanny connection of popular traditional names to a now extinct animal or maybe one which was just a mystical animal which lived on in their songs, names and sayings, or popular imagination to this very day?
In the context of the modern setting, places where tigers are found could only be the island of Sumatra which still has its tigers and Orang Utans, or mainland Asia, including Malaya. Theoretically, and a not farfetched idea, considering the presence of land bridges way back to the dawn of time, the migration idea has some merits. Or it could be North Eastern India where the tribes in the Nagaland region bears an uncanny close resemblance to the Borneon natives in many respects. Similarly, for the native tribes in Taiwan. A mystery yet to be unlocked through more serious anthropological research.
The name ‘Balang Nadun’ literally means ‘The Tiger Who Sets the Standard or Pace’. In other words, ‘The Criterion Tiger’. And just like what Sameon did, and true to form and tradition, I too took on the traditional name to mark the occasion of my first born – my son Emir (Paren, in Kelabit). The name change was done at a party attended by the whole of the village where the elders agreed, after discussions and consensus, that I should inherit the name of my maternal grandfather. It was a calculated choice and wise move by the elders to reinforce and refresh my connectivity to the people of the village. A harkening back to my roots.
Coincidentally, the Tiger name ‘Balang’ has the same meaning as ‘Singh’ – as I understand what the term means from my Sikh friends. If that is indeed true, then that makes me ‘Nadun Singh’ to the Punjabis, from amongst whom I have many friends and acquaintances. To prove the point, I once was appointed Captain of the University of Malaya Hockey team which, as common knowledge would testify, was made up by an overwhelming number of Sikh or Punjabi players.
Well, I was treated and accepted as one of them, and occasionally followed them to the Gudwara Shahib in Petaling Jaya, Selangor back in those good old days. Even donning the turban at times whereupon my Punjabi friends would call or ‘christian’ me as a Pathan! Another case of strange coincidence and linkage of the same name of Tiger/Singh and in the common sport of hockey.
I could go on and on narrating instances and experiences of coincidences, which are many, were I to recollect them here. They will only serve to increase the mystery of coincidences. Or conversely, I will run the risk of boring the uninterested reader to death if he or she is not so inclined in the first place, that is, to hear some Jungle Boy tales and a storytelling with a difference.
So perhaps, it is better at this juncture to cast my focus to the task of inquiring and understanding better what coincidences are in the scheme of things. Making some deeper inquiries into the subject, and a possible follow up in future articles.
