cover pdf - Sikh Naujawan Sabha Malaysia

The Sikh, July 2012
FAITH, FORM, FEAR AND FATHER
By Sukhinderpal Singh
Since the beginning of April this
year, I have been actively involved
in the provision of Legal Services
under the auspices of the National
Legal Aid Foundation, NLAF. The
NLAF is a joint initiative of the
Malaysian Bar via the Bar’s
National Legal Aid Centres and
the Government, to ensure legal
representation is available to a
citizen at the earliest possible
instance after an arrest.
As of now the bulk of the legal
aid is provided to suspects at
remand proceedings. Here an
arrestee, the ‘suspect’ is produced
before a Judicial Officer, e.g., a
Magistrate, by an Investigating
Officer who proceeds to request
that the ‘suspect’ be allowed to be
detained or ‘remanded’ for up to 14
days to facilitate investigations.
At the remands I have attended I
have seen that the majority of the
suspects are detained for
drug-related offences. These range
from possession to
self-administration.
Many of those arrested are
suspected of being drug
dependents or “penagih”. They
are detained for tests to ascertain
whether they are addicts.
When I look at the arrest reports
and then at the suspects, I see a
commonality. Many of them are of
my generation, born in the 50’s and
60’s. We may have been school
mates at Hutchings School or
played footie at the Esplanade. It
always crosses my mind, “There,
but for the Grace of God, go I.”
From my observations these
past 3 months I have come away
many-a-time, nay EVERYTIME,
thanking my parents for putting
me on the straight and narrow.
Why am I telling you all this?
Let me explain.
I was born in George Town on
the Island of Penang which was,
until the advent of the
deep-water wharves in
Butterworth and containers, a
bustling port.
My childhood was spent in
the inner-city around the port.
We stayed in a shop-house along
Bishop Street till I was 10. After
school we entertained ourselves
by walking, running, chasing,
hiding along the streets and
back-lanes and of course the
Esplanade, which fronted the sea
not far from where I lived.
My group of friends was of all
shapes, sizes, colours and faiths.
My first encounter with
smoking took place when I was all
of 8 years old. I was offered a
cigarette by a ‘friend’ who was
10!
I was trembling. I was
sweating. I was dumb-struck with
fear. FEAR! That is what kept me
from crossing the invisible line to
be one of them, be one with them.
Fear of my father, love of my
mother and the fear of God’s
wrath. More importantly at that
moment, fear of being recognised
by virtue of my distinct form.
My earliest memories are of my
parents, God bless their souls,
teaching me my faith. They told
me of the values and principles.
The form and the substance.
Banaa and Baanee.
They told me of the do’s and
don’ts.
They made me aware of the
Glory of the Guru.
At that moment of truth, I
turned and ran as fast as I could. I
could not believe that my friends
of my faith were indulging in the
cardinal of cardinal sins: the
number 2 “DON’T”.
At 3½ years old I was sent to
the Wadda Gurduara Sahib,
Penang to learn Gurbani and
Gurmukhi. I remain eternally
grateful to my parents, the late
Bhai Joga Singh and Bibi Amrit
Kaur for ensuring that I learn my
faith.
That fear coated with
immeasurable parental love and
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