Leader of the BandAn only child alone and wild, a cabinet maker's son
His hands were meant for different work and his heart was known to none
He left his home and went his own and solitary way
And he gave to me a gift I know I never can repay
A quiet man of music denied a simple fate
He tried to be a soldier once but his music wouldn't wait
He learned his love through discipline, a thund'ring velvet hand
His gentle means of sculpting souls, took me years to understand
Chorus:
The leader of the band is tired and his eyes are growing old
But his blood runs through my instruments and his song is in my soul
My life has been a poor attempt to imitate the man
I'm just a living legacy to the leader of the band
My brother's lives were different for they heard another call
One went to Chicago and the other to St Paul
And I'm in Colorado when I'm not in some hotel
Living out this life I chose and come to know so well
Thank you for the music and your stories of the road
Thank you for the freedom when it came my time to go
Thank you for the kindness and the times when you got tough
And papa I don't think I've said I love you near enough
Chorus;
I am the living legacy to the leader of the band
~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~
My Leaders of the BandMy father told me when I was still in school that in his case, when he got his Degree, a good job in a big company and a good salary, it is something impressive because "ayah bapak orang kelaut" (nelayan la, pd sapa yg xtau). But, if my brother or I got degrees, good jobs in big companies and good salaries, its "biasa2 je" because "ayah awok dok gi kelaut". I remember how puzzled my brother and I were, and how we looked at each other, trying to understand what he's saying. The statement came as a complete surprise to both of us because thats what the whole generation of my family (my army of cousins) were all aspiring to -- striving to get into boarding schools, get good results in SPM and become Doctors, Lawyers, Engineers (thus gaining the approval of every "Mak Dara" in the country by doing so). So his statement was a complete puzzle to us. "What does he want then?" I can still remember my mind taking in the alienness of what he said. My brother (he's 4 years younger but always the one who thinks faster except when he panics) came up with the right answer. Business. "You have to PAY the salary" my father said. What a concept! The thought never crossed my mind even once before that -- that I should own a company that pays salary to others. I don't remember the date, the year, the month or anything. I remember we were in Kemaman, living in the Principal's quarters at Sek Men Chukai, so that means it was semester hols during Maktab time. Whenever it was, that day, my father made me an entrepreneur.
My grandfather on my mother's side was the only man to send his daughters to school in his whole village, the sneers of other villagers notwithstanding. He would visit their school every week to talk to the teachers and find out how they were doing. He had only daughters, no sons, so my mother and her two sisters were the only women from that whole village who went for teachers' training and my mother was the only one to University. It was their education that made it possible for all my cousins, my brother and myself to be born to better lives. When we were young, he was very fond of saying that if the teachers would accept him, he would like to go to school just like us. When any of us took up martial arts, especially silat, his reminder is just the same. The way of the future is the agility of the mind. "Kalu mmikir tu tajang, orang nok bung (bomb) pung dok jjadi apa, sohkang orang nok tikang". His favourite stories for his grandchildren, were of Sang Kancil, and how by its cleverness, it was able to overcome larger and more vicious opponents. He was a bit of a Sang Kancil himself, always one to be mischievious, teasing everyone including my very fierce late grandmother.
My father's father (the fisherman) prevented all his sons from ever stepping onto a fishing boat. He's fine if they want to play badminton or football, but was never happy even if they were just fishing by the river in hometown Seberang Takir. To him, being a fisherman, even one who owns his own fishing boats like him, has no everlasting future, being at the mercy of the weather every year. He was a man of few words but loud voice, but the times when he smiled were always when his sons had done well at school. The times when he stood in the doorway, his face like a thundercloud was when one of my uncles had been fooling around someplace / somehow. My father was eldest, so I had more opportunity to observe him than I did my other grandfather. His favourite reprimand "Doh guane mung? Nok jjadi oghang ke takmboh ning?" and then "Doh mung nok jadi oghang guane kalu bodo? Skoloh mmolek ah!" All my uncles but one became teachers. My father was a teacher too, for a while, and then went on to other things.
From stories told me by my grandfather and aunties (mom's side), it turns out that my great grandfather was a perfectionist. Among other things, he was a carpenter (tukang). My grandfather regularly got into mischief because he was always waiting for my great grandfather to finish chopping firewood, which took him ages. My great grandfather cannot even allow himself to chop wood for the kitchen fire without making sure that each stick of firewood is the same size as another. When I was studying architecture in UTM, I managed to put this in perspective. You see, the "tukang" from Terengganu built with wood panels (papan kembung / papan kembi) arranged between the frames of a house. These panels are sometimes ordered all the way from southern Siam, and would be constructed wherever the "tukang" is, then taken over by cart and sampan to the destination. The panels are assembled and as a test, the "tukang" would strike the finished wall really hard. The sound that comes from that strike should be a solid thump. If there is any rattling at all, out all the panels come and back he goes to do the work all over again. So I finally understood the underlying philosophy behind that particular story of my great-grandfather.
It was my grandparents' commitment to education on both sides of the family that brought my parents together in Sek Men Sultan Sulaiman. My mother the smallest one in class and also one of the fiercest, and my father the most articulate. My mother the serious one who doesn't back down and my father the popular debator / orator / writer. Once, their teacher asked everyone in the class to recite a "pantun", and my mother was not so good at that. So my father from his seat somewhere in the middle of the class, wrote one for her on a piece of paper and had it passed on to my mom in the front row. The "pantun" disappeared along the way, and was recited by someone else. My father kept on writing and passing them on until everyone on the "pathway" between his desk and hers had got their "pantun", and finally she got hers. My mom told me this story, and at some other time told me that they were not "serious" till university. Hah!
It is my father's articulation, my grandfather's agile mind (plus both their sense of humor), my mother's commitment to doing the best, and my great-grandfather's perfectionism that I carry in me. It is their genes that I proudly carry within me and on which I leverage to do what I do. My great grandmother, as well as my grandmother taught not only the Quran but well, basically, religious studies. They were physicians (with books and references brought down through generations, mind you!), and most importantly, teachers. Almost all of those books (kitab), some handwritten, were destroyed during the upheavel of British and Japanese occupations. But the blood carries on.
I was so trying to avoid becoming a teacher it was quite funny. I spent a lot of years avoiding becoming a teacher, then after my MBA, avoiding becoming a lecturer. I didn't want to have anything to do with teaching people. I was happily organizing training but I thought that well, at least I wasn't delivering them, but I got enveigled into it from time to time. I hated it for a while, but then something happened (another story) and suddenly, I fell in love. There I was, avoiding teaching for almost 10 years, and I end up becoming a trainer -- teaching people. Of course, as a trainer I don't get all the hassle, thanklessness and politics that I hated about the teaching field. I get to structure my classes the way I believe they should be and I get to do it in my own style, which I believe to be most effective. I have my feedback forms to prove that point. So I'm another one of my generation carrying on the family teaching tradition. Thats in my blood too.
So, yes, I see now that the leaders of the band in my family are getting tired. Both grandparents on my father's side has passed away, and now my father is getting forgetful, is deaf in one ear and is wearing adult diapers after his operation for prostate cancer. My mother (the youngest amongst her sisters) collapsed during Ramadan last year and for the first time had to call in outside help to get the house ready for Aidil Fitri. My one surviving grandfather is 92. He's the youngest in his family too, and his elder brothers passed away both of them at age 100+. He's still mischevious, although his engine has definitely slowed down. But their blood ARE in my instruments and their songs in my soul. Its my grandfather's carrying voice that I use in my training. The same voice that can carry across great expanses of the sea between fishing boats has in maktab days carried across the entire field in perbarisan and kawad (go Jupiter!) and is now carrying across training rooms, whether they are 30 people listening or 300. Its my other grandfather's mischiveous nature, agile mind and sense of humor that gives me ideas for games and activities in my training programs. Its my father's analytical nature and my mother's down-to-earth good sense that keeps me grounded. Its my mother's perception and ability to understand the nature of people that allows me to walk in a training room and "feel" what it is that I need to do to gain their attention and trust. Its all of them in me that make me what I am.
We are all of us descended from champions. Masters of their craft, great travelers, warriors and leaders. Go far enough back in history and your geneology and you will find them, so many of them. I am proud to be related to Haji Abdul Rahman Limbung, among others. We have their genes in us. We are capable of being greater champions then them, because we are a combination of all of them. All it takes is the effort and the belief that it is possible to transcend barriers and limitations to achieve all that they have achieved and more.
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
