THE MEMOIRS OF MUSTAPHA HUSSAIN - Malaysia Today

Circumcision Ceremony 53
the syair in an enchanting sing-song manner. His audience, the women
in the group, listened attentively as their fingers weaved the nipah palm
leaves onto frames as fast as a machine could, completing several pieces
in just minutes.
The syairs I had heard were always about rich kings, princes and
princesses clad in the finest of fineries and living in magnificent palaces.
Were these poor women listening to the stories of opulent royal lifestyles
not envious? I could not tell. As they were women, and not supposed to
laugh aloud, they simpered and giggled at some amusing points in the
story. The Malays describe this as ‘laughing from the inside’. Over and
above the hypnotic sounds of the rhymes and the giggles of the women,
came the soothing sound of rushing river water. As the cool breeze
caressed their faces, the women worked non-stop, all day.
The last of the attap weavers of my childhood days has just died.
Interestingly, the best attap dealer in Matang was a blind man called
Tutik. After buying the attaps, he would transport them to the main town
of Taiping in a bullock cart, while sitting comfortably atop the attap
bundles. He was a special person as he could melodiously play the awai,
a traditional instrument. He died in 1973.
Going back to the Raja Hondok book that I had discovered on the
rack, after reading a few pages aloud, I was able to read it in the same
sing-song manner, just like that man under the shed by the river. After
reading carefully, while singing aloud, looking for the story line, I realised
that this syair was also about a powerful Sultan living in a fabulous
palace, with a very handsome prince and a princess too beautiful for
words.
And so, during my recuperation from the circumcision, I read several
classical Malay books, such as Siti Zubaidah, Nabi Yusoff and Faridah
Hanum. As these books were graced with some romantic moments, I had
to resort to using the coconut shell more often and the sound of ‘tok, tok,
tok’ continued late into the night.
Finally, much to my relief, with the help of Western medication, my
wound healed completely. When school reopened, I was able to go, but
my aunt kept reminding me not to be too active and boisterous, or I could
suffer a relapse. I excused myself from physical education lessons for
several weeks and some foods were still forbidden. Two months after this
unforgettable event in my life, I was finally allowed to run and cycle as
hard as I wanted.
Among the pupils in my Special Malay Class, were some ‘young
men’. There were four who were so mature and old that our teacher
advised them to look for employment as lorry attendants or something