The Pineapple Trail

Recently, I published my novel The Pineapple Trail on Amazon. I feel pleased and grateful that I have achieved this long-held dream.

This blog has been an important part of the journey towards this goal. So thank you to all my blogger friends, fellow bloggers and readers for being part of that journey. ( Thanks also to Goodreads friends for sharing their reading recommendations and insights.)

Here’s a description of the novel:

Two sisters, Safia and Nora, grow up in a town in Malaysia where the pineapple is king, where the fruit’s factory and plantation provide livelihood for the residents. As young women, they start their adulthood at the factory.

Nora is happy to stay in her hometown with all that it offers. Charming and bubbly, Nora has many suitors. Will she make the right choice?

For Safia, the older sister, a chance encounter with a glamorous woman unveils a side of her that she never knew existed. She leaves home to follow the lure of a bigger dream. Alone in the capital city of Kuala Lumpur, through her timidity, Safia loses the drive to seek her goal. Then she meets an ambitious young man who revives that dream. At a time when the city is brimming with new opportunities and new wealth, can they pool their yearnings and achieve all that they want?

The sisters tread life’s journey through expectations, unfulfilled dreams, joys and resolve. This is the story of their pineapple trail.

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The Artist

 

Here’s an excerpt from my novel, set in Malaysia. Hope you enjoy it.

 

They walked slowly towards the house, taking in the greenery around them. The garden felt expansive. Four sturdy trees looked like sentinels guarding the house. One looked like a mango or kuini tree. The fruits were still small and green. It was hard to tell. Another was a rambutan tree. The red fruits dangled from the branches, like rubies playfully hiding away in their hideout.

“Oh look at that rambutans,” Jee whispered excitedly. “We have to ask Zain if we can pluck some.”

The house came into view, and Nora saw a traditional Malay house on stilts. A wooden staircase painted cream, flanked by two brown pots of bird’s nest fern, led up to the verandah. From a large window on the right side of the house, Zain popped his head. “Glad you found your way. Welcome.” His voice rang from the higher level of the house. It sounded like an echo to Nora.

He led them pass the small verandah into to the living room. Furniture was minimal here – just a sofa, a coffee table and a small bookcase. One side of the living room was bare, but there were several Malay pandanus mats in beige and pastel pink shades spread on the floor. Two big cushions were thrown on the mat. On the wall above the mats, hung a painting, Zain’s presumably, of two stylised red flowers. The deep shades of the paintings accented the colors of the mats.

As though reading her thoughts, Zain said, “Please excuse the unconventional arrangement of the room. I like to read, rest, on the mats. More comfortable for me.”

He showed them around the house. He told them that the rumah ibu, the main section had four bedrooms. But Zain had knocked down two bedrooms and converted the area into the kitchen. He explained that the kitchen was previously on the lower level of the house, in the old style of Malay houses. “It’s called rumah dapur, the kitchen house. Interesting isn’t it, the language of our forefathers.”

They walked down a short flight of wooden steps into a huge open area. “So, the kitchen is no longer a kitchen. But has become my studio, where I work every day. Well. almost every day.” Zain said, as though expecting them to appreciate it. Nora could hear the pride, or was it joy, in his voice.

The walls were painted white and the floor was tiled with big, light cream tiles. Splashes of colors were added by the paintings hung on the walls and some stacked against a wall, as well as a variety of paints and brushes on a table.

The three of them, never having been in an artist’s studio before, didn’t really know what to say. “That’s good. You have a nice area to work in,” Jee said. She and Mak Cik walked towards the steps to go back to the main section of the house, followed by Zain.

Nora lingered, curious about an easel with a big canvas on it, situated close to a wall. Nora moved closer and saw that Zain had started just on one spot at the bottom of the canvas. They were strong strokes of blue. She tried to imagine the completed painting. She wondered what kind of painting he already had in mind. Then she realised the rest had left and she made a move to join them. As she turned towards the staircase, she noticed the wide window in the studio. Something drew her to it. She looked out and saw the merry cluster of banana trees, its leaves glistening emerald and bright.

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Lunar

The moon. Radiant, bright, so far away, and yet it belongs to everyone.

The moon. It has been put to both practical and poetic uses in the history of humankind.

Before clocks were invented, people used to tell the passage of time by the moon. In ancient Malay lands, people calculated the journey of the months by purnama, the cycle of the full moon.

During the Chinese Mooncake Festival, people savored mooncakes filled with lotus seeds and sipped tea under the light of the moon.

Each time I look at the moon, its beauty is afresh and anew. Maybe it’s telling me, telling humanity, this is how we should see each day.

The moon. A luminous beauty, shedding its radiance on every pair of eyes that sees it, and asking nothing in return.

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Green Tea Chocolate

I’ve seen pictures of the Maccha Green Tea Kitkat, popular in Japan, and I’ve always wanted to try it. Well, I almost jumped for joy when I saw it at an Asian supermarket.

And what made it even more convenient, the American distributor has stuck a small label listing the ingredients and nutritional value in English. Some of the ingredients listed included green tea powder, cocoa and vegetable oil.

Now for the sampling, to see how the matching of chocolate and green tea turns out.

I think it tastes more like a creamy dessert with a subtle fragrance, reminiscent of the green tea ice cream that I have had the chance to try on several occasions.

And rather strangely, the flavor and fragrance of the Green Tea Kitkat reminds me of pandan flavoring. Pandan is an extract from the pandanus leaf, and is used extensively in Malay and Indonesian desserts.

I do like this interesting Kitkat flavor. And best of all, these bars still have that famous, addictive Kitkat crunch.

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Winged Green

Ulam, raw vegetables and herbs is integral to Malay cuisine. On the right is winged bean/kacang botol, and part of the dipping sauce shown (at bottom right).

In this post, I would like to highlight an aspect of Malay cuisine – ulam, which is a version of Malay salad.

Ulam consists of a platter of raw vegetables and herbs, and may also include some that have been blanched. It is eaten with a sambal, a spicy chilli-based dipping sauce. Ulam is usually served as part of a rice based meal.

Kacang botol, the green bean shown above is one of my favorites. It has a lovely combination of a crunchy texture and a mildly creamy taste.

Kacang means bean in Malay, and botol means bottle. I’m not sure why it is so named; must be an interesting anecdote somewhere. Incidentally, it is known as winged bean in English, perhaps named after its uniquely shaped edges. Well, it seems like the bean encouraged people to be quite poetic in naming it.

The bean plant grows as a vine, and it is said to be a good source of vitamin A.

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My Father’s Book

My father’s passion was reading. Our favorite weekend activity as a family was to visit the newsstand to buy magazines.

 

My father’s short stories will be republished soon by Fixi Retro.

I’m lucky to come from a family that loved books and writing.

My grandfather loved poetry and owned a small second hand bookshop in Singapore. My late father Hamzah Hussin, helped him in the shop as a young boy, and he grew up to become a figure in the Malay literary world.

My father became a journalist and writer, penning and publishing short stories and novels.  He then joined Cathay Keris Organisation, one of the pioneer studios that produced Malay films, as a scriptwriter/ public relations officer. He later went to live in Malaysia to continue to contribute to the film industry and also to teach at FINAS Film Academy.

He was always generous with his knowledge, and I knew that he cherished the opportunity to teach, and the interaction with the students and their ideas.

Most of the Malay films of his era are still widely viewed, and thus my father’s screenplays are still intact. However, some of his literary works are not so readily available.

The good news is that Amir Muhammad, Malaysia’s well-known author, filmmaker and publisher, has located three of my father’s published short stories and has compiled them into a book. Amir and his company Fixi Retro will launch the book on November 21 at Ilham’s Gallery in Kuala Lumpur.

I feel very grateful and pleased to share my father’s work with more people, and I’m sure he would be too.

If you’re in Malaysia or Singapore, I would like to invite you to the launch. Amir will also talk about Malay movies in the 60s at the event. More details on the event and the venue are at this page.

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Bazaar Stroll

Carpets galore…for every room in the house.

Dressed up….a stall selling baju kurung, the traditional Malay costume for women.

The Ramadan bazaar in Geylang Serai, the Malay district in Singapore, has made its yearly appearance again. In time for shoppers preparing for the coming Eid festival, or Hari Raya as it is known in Malay.

One can find a variety of goods including traditional Malay costumes and festive cookies. Malays are said to be houseproud, and household goods such as carpets and silk flowers take centrestage, ready to spruce up the house and to welcome the visitors.

Selamat Hari Raya; Eid Greetings.

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Songs and Time Tunnel

The month of May began with a unique musical note.

Sheila Majid, Malaysia’s jazz diva was in Los Angeles last weekend to give a concert celebrating her 30-year mark in the music scene. Sheila is very popular in many countries in South East Asia, and some of her hits are considered modern classics of Malay music.

I’ve always liked her songs, especially her hits in the 1990s. So I made it a point to be at her performance. She gave a great show, singing her greatest numbers that the audience came to hear, plus segments paying tribute to musicians who have inspired her including Michael Jackson.

Sitting in the theater, listening to her belting out her hits, while the chandelier lights on the stage threw prisms of pink and purple rays, at times I felt that I was in an emotional-dreamy space or some kind of a time tunnel.

You see, In the 1990s, I was living and working in Kuala Lumpur, the capital city of Malaysia. And her songs brought me back there.

I was very fortunate to get a career as a feature writer for a daily newspaper in Kuala Lumpur, and those years were among the best working years of my life. To me, there’s nothing like the energy and atmosphere of a newsroom. We always get the news first. I met people from all walks of life, seen many places, while on assignments.

I was in charge of a number of columns including art and women’s issues, and I had great bosses who gave me the independence and trust to manage the columns with minimal interference. I worked with a group of interesting colleagues, and out of this, several life-long friendships have developed.

At that time, my father was still alive and living in Kuala Lumpur as well. He was also a journalist, (he preferred the word ‘newspaperman’) in his younger days. Now that we shared the same profession, we had a lot more to share, discuss, even argue. And I learnt a lot from him.

One of her songs that Sheila sang that night was Aku Cinta Padamu which means “I love you”. It’s a beautiful ballad about a woman who wonders how many times or ways she has to convince a man that she loves him while he remains unsure. It brought a crystal clear memory of a morning ride on the bus, on my way to the newspaper office.

(At the time when I was riding the Metro buses in the city, the driver often had piped in music throughout the bus. Usually it would be from a radio station, the medley of songs entertaining him as well as the passengers on the commute.)

That morning, Aku Cinta Padamu was played by the radio DJ. I was going through the break-up of a long term relationship. And hearing that song, the tears just flowed down. I was both sad and embarassed, quickly trying to wipe the tears, hoping that the passengers who were standing in the bus would not see my meltdown.

But on the whole, the 90s were good years. I actually had seen Sheila performed in Malaysia when she had been invited to sing at a product launch event that I had to cover. In that time between her performance in Kuala Lumpur and this one in Los Angeles, some threads of my life have changed, and some have not. I guess that’s life.

Ah,….songs. They do have their special way of transporting you back to the past.

And so, to everyone who have been a part of the journey, of my years in Kuala Lumpur, thank you for the life experiences and the memories.

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Ketupat Dumplings – Timeless and Festive

Encik Aziz displaying his cooked ketupat in a manner that reminds me of my childhood kampung home.

Shopping for Eid, or Hari Raya as it is known in Malay, is in full swing in Geylang Serai, the Malay district in Singapore. In the last few days of Ramadan, the stores and bazaar offer almost everything in preparation for the celebrations.

As I wander around, I take in the colors. I see things new and things traditional. Festive food sold includes ketupat, rice dumplings eaten with meat dishes and a variety of sauces.

It takes a lot of work to prepare the ketupat from scratch – the way my grandmother and grandaunt did. We all helped, too, with the various tasks.

It starts with buying stalks of young coconut leaves. The leaves are woven into pouches using age-old techniques. The pouches are then partly filled with rice, and sealed. The final stage, the cooking, requires boiling the ketupat for at least four hours till the rice expands to a nicely firm texture.

It’s good that some people are selling the ketupat in various stages of preparation, providing that convenience for many households.

I come across Encik (Mr in Malay) Aziz selling fully prepared ketupat. Stop by for a little chat, and convey my respect for folks like him who keep our traditional foods and arts alive in the face of changing times.

I smile at the way he stores the ketupat – hanging on a pole. My grandmother used to do that in our kampung or childhood home. I really don’t know why, but as a kid, I loved the sight of the wooden pole laden with ketupat hanging in our kitchen.

Memories come rushing back: the ketupat and food prepared by my grandmother’s loving, meticulous hands, enjoyed by our extended family every festive season.

Selamat Hari Raya. Happy Eid.

Ready-made ketupat pouches at the Geylang Serai Market.

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Johor’s Gathering of Writers, Readers and Musicians

Danga Bay – the scenic setting of the JB Writers and Readers Festival.

I had an enjoyable time at the JB Writers and Readers Festival held recently in Johor Bahru, Malaysia.

The setting was the beautiful Danga Bay, where the water and its fluidity seemed to throw its reflection on the event. In addition, as many of the festival’s participating writers, musicians and publishers were indie folks, the vibe was friendly and casual.

The audience had interesting questions at my session where I discussed my book “Kampung Memories”, which revolves around the Malay kampungs (villages) that are now gone from Singapore’s high-rise landscape. An audience member pointed out that several kampungs have had to make way for development in Johor, and we discussed the need for documenting the social history of these places.

After that, a duo came on stage, and they rendered a Singapore Malay folk song “DiTanjong Katong”. I was very touched by this gesture.

On the whole, the organizer Tok Rimau, his team and the volunteers did a great job, and I look forward to see what they have in store next year.

The host Widda (right) and members of the audience had several insightful questions for me to discuss.

Nam Ron, one of Malaysia’s most interesting playwrights and film makers, with his books at the festival.

The duo performed a lovely rendition of a Singapore Malay folk song.

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