A Strange Brush With Life

I felt a calling to write these little episodes while watching a nature programme about the hinterland of the state of Kelantan in the Nenggiri area.

It was in the 1950s, more so around 1956-58 when the family was staying in Kota Bahru, Kelantan. One weekend, we made a trip to Gua Musang deep down south. It seemed to me like in the middle of nowhere. The road was quite desolate. The greenery, lush. They were renting a place in the heart of a kampong.

Folklore abound regarding Gua Musang (Civet Cave)....like the hunter and the six companions who disappeared. From the more recent pictures Gua Musang has grown to much importance over the years. It is now a gateway to the Taman Negara/National Park, one of the oldest rainforest in the world. There is now a highway - a far cry from what it was back then.

My parents had such family ties that apparently, they had received an "SOS" call from my mum's cousin, auntie Azizah  whose family was living there. Her husband, uncle Othman, was a Detective Sargent with the Police Department (called "Mata Gelap" by the Malays or locals meaning "dark eyes") there and had suddenly taken "ill" in a strange way. That was as far as I knew then. There being no other family in Kelantan, it was only natural that they contacted my parents it times of need. Amongst other things auntie Azizah, mum's cousin, said that uncle would sometimes not return home when he should. Today, looking in retrospect, I must say I might understand why a man does not return home.......

Through dad's help, uncle Othman did get a transfer to Kota Bahru. I am not sure if the transfer did solve the problem with uncle Othman. In 1958, we were putting up the night at the old black painted KB Rest House on dad's transfer to Ipoh. In the early morning, we were awakened by a call from my second cousin Amir, saying his dad had not returned since the day before. Dad got ready and went out with young Amir to make a police report and assist in any way possible. Later, when dad returned, we were told that Uncle Othman had been found by the Kelantan river not far from home.

Those days Kelantan was often beheld as a place steep in mysticism and black magic. Those from other states were expected to go and work there "prepared" least they be "tested". If they fail, they'd surely fail miserably.

According to mum, uncle Othman was never the same since then but the family trudged along. We met them again when they moved to Kuala Kangsar where we had another memorable incident in their kitchen. There was a blackout and we girls were about to fry some preserved fish, the very traditional ikan pekasam. Little did we realise that we were "frying" them in water instead of oil! No wonder, there was no sound of crakling oil! The lesson learned was never place water and oil near each other! Strange things can happen in the dark!

I had another strange brush with the supernatural when my parents were living in Sabah.............Ah, that is something I had always wanted to forget. Perhaps I shall find the courage to write it someday......