Home Sweet Home

A man's home is his castle -  it begins with his mom's cooking. And the boy will be longing to be home always. In his own room, among his lifetime belongings and together with his only brother in this world - he would not want to be anywhere else but home.



College Bus - selfie

Denzel's down with chicken pox.

Somehow the college's swagger grows on him.

Nothing like sharing simple humor on YouTube.

Weekend Home Coming

As the academic year settles in, debating competitions kick in early avoiding the second half-year for the annual examination or other academic performance evaluations. Almost weekly there will be debating competition in major institutions of the country - to expose these young debaters as much as possible. On April 9 2016, they participated in the Malaysian National School Debating Championship organized by Fairview International School in Wangsa Maju, Kuala Lumpur.
A bus load of these boys turned up early on Friday morning, after a very early bus ride from Kuala Kangsar to register themselves with 90 over teams participating. Mom was busy as well shuttling Adel back home for meals and rest. After three grueling days of debating, late evening of Sunday saw one of the MCKK teams became champion and Amar was voted as the best speaker of the day!

The final in progress

Champion Team - Ammar, Aniq & Lukman

Future leaders of the country

Cik Gu Lyn

Budak Kolej

Students of MCKK - Budak Kolej or College Boy - shall be in the circle of elite men for the rest of their lives. They are drilled on discipline from the moment stepping onto the school compound. They are instilled on grooming, etiquette, protocol or nobility in their daily routines. They are introduced to integrity, dignity and honor among themselves. Above all, they are reinforced with continuous moral lessons and religious knowledge that will sustain themselves to an even-keeled to lead and govern this country.
They were boys used to excelled academically in primary schools. The college further teaches them excellence in other curriculum - be it in sports, debating, creativity, or even artistic pursuits. Passion in their chosen activity is strongly advocated. In building leadership traits, resilience, courage and confidence are being ingrained in them. Of course, intelligence comes second nature to these brilliant young boys.
Most appealing of all, the college develops a strong life-long camaraderie among the 100-odd boys per annual intake. This residential bonding of looking over each other and bear consequences of your dorm actions will lead to lifetime affection, nostalgia and trust (or mistrust) among them.
The dynamics of this relationship, coupled with solid fundamentals of excellence will propel them to success in their career paths - be it in the government services, tertiaries, private or corporate conglomerates - Budak Kolej will forever endeavor this pursuit of excellence for the rest of their lives....!
Even when a fellow or two decided NOT to pursue the traditional charted educational program, somehow they will never be ostracized - instead they will be respected and measured accordingly. And yet amongst the scores of accolades accumulated or material successes gained, these boys couldn't care less. When they are together, it's just like being in Kuala Kangsar all over again...! Most important to them would be their ties are straight, shirts crisply tucked in and immaculately groomed; as after all they must ALWAYS be true to themselves in being Budak Kolej....
  

Chinese New Year Break

Adel got back by bus on Friday evening - Mom collected him from Duta bus terminal for a week Chinese New Year break. His sun-burnt face and elongated limbs were all too familiar of teenage boy physiques. For the last couple of weeks, each evening had been serious cross-country training leading to their marathon event to build up the boys physical, as well as identifying running talents among themselves.
As usual, college assignments were plentiful - more than enough for him to be bogged down on searching, compiling and writing the essays. As the city dwellers continue to leave Kuala Lumpur for the long weekend, it was pleasant drive across to Mak Teh's house for a family gathering as his cousin got engaged on Sunday morning.

Cousins-in-arms

Kwala Kangsa - Introduction



Isabella Bird riding elephant to Kuala Kangsar

20 Feb. 1880 - YESTERDAY afternoon I had an expedition which I liked very much, though it ended a little awkwardly owing to a late start. Captain Walker was going on a shooting excursion to a lotus lake at some distance, and invited me to join him. So we started after tiffin with two Malays, crossed the Pêrak in a "dug-out," and walked for a mile over a sandy, grassy shore, which there lies between the bright water and the forest, then turned into the jungle, and waded through a stream which was up to my knees as we went, and up to my waist as we returned. Then a tremendous shower came on, and we were asked to climb into a large Malay house, of which the floor was a perilously open gridiron. At least three families were in it, and there were some very big men, but the women hid themselves behind a screen of matting. It looked forlorn. A young baboon was chained to the floor, and walked up and down restlessly like a wild beast in a menagerie; there were many birds in cages, and under the house was much rubbish, among which numerous fowls were picking. There was much fishing-tackle on the walls, both men and women being excessively fond of what I suppose may be called angling. They brought us young cocoa-nuts, and the milk, drank as it always ought to be, through one of the holes in the nut, was absolutely delicious.
Where the Malays are not sophisticated enough to have glass or china, they use dried gourds for drinking-vessels. The cocoa-nut is an invaluable product to them. Besides furnishing them with an incomparable drink, it is the basis of the curries on which they live so much, and its meat and milk enter into the composition of their sweet dishes. I went to see the women behind their screen, and found one of them engaged in making a dish which looked like something which we used to call syllabub. It was composed of remarkably unbleached sago, which they make from the sago-palm, boiled down with sugar to nearly a jelly. It was on an earthenware plate, and the woman who was preparing it mixed sugar with cocoa-nut milk, and whipping it with a bunch of twigs to a slight froth, poured it over the jelly.
When the rain ceased we got through the timber belt into a forlorn swamp of wet padi, where the water was a foot deep, and in some places so unintelligibly hot that it was unpleasant to put one's feet into it. It was truly a dismal swamp, and looked as if the padi were coming up by accident among the reeds and weeds. Indeed, I should have thought that it was a rice fallow, but for a number of grotesque scarecrows, some mere bundles of tatters, but others wearing the aspect of big birds, big dolls, or cats. I could not think how it was that these things made spasmodic jerking movement, as there was not a breath of air, and they were all soaked by the shower, till I saw that they were attached by long strings to a little grass hut raised on poles, in which a girl or boy sat "bird-scaring."
The sparrows rob the rice-fields, and so do the beautiful padi-birds, of which we saw great numbers.
The Malays are certainly not industrious; they have no need to be so, and their cultivation is rude. They plow the rice-land with a plow consisting of a pole eight feet long, with a fork protruding from one end to act as a coulter, and a bar of wood inserted over this at an oblique angle forms a guiding handle. This plow is drawn by the great water buffalo. After plowing, the clods are broken by dragging a heavy beam over them, and are harrowed by means of a beam set with iron spikes. The women do the sowing and planting. The harvest succeeds the planting in four months. The rice ears are cut short off, sometimes by a small sickle, and sometimes by an instrument which produces the effect of shears. Threshing consists in beating the ears with thick sticks to loosen the husks, after which the padi is carried in baskets to platforms ten feet above the ground, and is allowed to fall on mats, when the chaff is driven away by the wind. It is husked by a pestle, and it requires some skill to avoid crushing the grain. All these operations are performed by women.
The Pêrak Malays don't like working for other people, but some of them cultivate sugar-cane and maize for sale. Even for clearing jungle-land foreign labor has to be resorted to.
Ah, that swamp is a doleful region! One cannot tell where it ends and where the jungle begins, and dark, heavy, ominous-looking clouds generally concealed the forest-covered hills which are not far off. I almost felt the redundancy of vegetation to be oppressive, and the redundancy of insect and reptile life certainly was so; swarms of living creatures leaped in and out of the water, bigger ones hidden from view splashed heavily, and a few blackish, slug-like looking reptiles, which drew blood, and hung on for an hour or two, attached themselves to my ankles. I was amused when Captain Walker congratulated himself on the absence of leeches, for these blood-suckers were at least their next of kin. I fell down into the water twice from the submerged ridge that I tried to walk upon, but there is no risk of cold from a hot bath in a stove.
Then we came to a smothered, reedy, ditch-like stream, in which was an old "dug-out" half full of water, in which we managed to stow ourselves, and by careful balancing contrived to keep its edges just above the water. Our impeded progress down this ditch startled myriads of whirring, splashing creatures. The ditch opened into a reedy swamp where hideous pink water buffaloes were wallowing and enjoying themselves, but on the report of a gun they all plunged into deep water and swam away, except for their big horns, looking more like hippopotami than bovine quadrupeds. They are nearly as ugly as a rhinoceros; all albino animals are ugly, and when these are wet their hides are a bright salmon pink.

A Malay 'dug-out' on Perak River

The swamp merged itself into a lotus lake, covered over much of its extent with thousands of noble leaves and rose-pink blossoms. It seemed almost sacrilege to tear and bruise and break them and push rudely through them in our canoe. A sadder and lonelier scene could not be. I have seldom been more powerfully affected by nature. The lake lying in hot mist under dark clouds, with the swamp and jungle on one side and an absolutely impenetrable wall of entangled trees and trailers on the other, so dense and matted that before putting one's feet on shore space would have to be cut for them with a parang, seemed as if it must be a hundred miles from the abodes of men, and as if nobody had ever been there before or ever would be there again. The heavy mist lifted, showing mountains, range beyond range, forest-covered, extending back into the heart of the peninsula; and though the highest may be under five thousand feet in height, yet from their shape, and from rising so near the sea-level, and from the woolly mists which hung round their bases, and from something in the gray, sad atmosphere, they looked fully ten thousand feet high.
Captain Walker climbed into a low tree which overhung the lake to look out for teal and widgeon, which were perfectly innumerable, while the Malays, never uttering a word, silently poled the boat over the dreary lake in the dreary evening to put up the birds. There they went high over our heads in long flights, and every time there was the report of a gun there were screams and shrieks and squawks, and myriads of birds rose out of their reedy covers, and fish splashed, and the smoke lay heavily on the water, and then all was silent again. Any place more solitary and apparently isolated could not be imagined–it was a most pathetic scene. Hazy visions of the mere near which King Arthur lay dying came before my eyes. If I had seen the solemn boat with "the three fair queens," in "robes of samite, mystic, wonderful," I should not have been surprised, nor would it have been odd if the lake had changed into the Styx, across which I was being ferried, a cold, colorless shade. To and fro, up and down, we poled over the tragic waters till I actually felt a terror far beyond eeriness taking possession of me.
It grew grayer and darker, and we went back for Captain Walker, who, with the absorption of a true sportsman, had hardly noticed the falling shadows. It was a relief to hear the human voice once more. It broke the worst spell I was ever bound by. As he came out on the branch to get into the canoe it gave way, and he fell into the water up to his chin. Then the boat pole broke, so that when we got back to the padi it was obvious that "the dark" was coming "at one stride," and I suggested that, as we had two miles to walk and a river to cross at night, and we should certainly be very late for dinner; Mr. Low might become uneasy about us, as we were both strangers and unable to speak the language; but Captain Walker thought differently.
There had been so much rain that it was heavy wading through the padi, and it was quite dark when we reached the jungle, in which the rain had made the footing very precarious, and in darkness we forded the swollen stream, and stumbled along the shore of the Pêrak, where fireflies in thousands were flashing among the bushes–a beautiful sight. When we reached the bank of the river where we had left the canoe we found several Malays, who laughed and seemed singularly pleased to see us, and talked vociferously to our men, i.e., vociferously for Malays, who are in the habit of speaking quietly. It was very difficult to get down the steep, slippery bank, into a precarious canoe which I could not see, and so thick was the darkness that I sat down in the water between the two gridirons, and had to remain there during the crossing, which took a long time, being against the stream.
When we landed, a Sikh sergeant met us, very much excited. He spoke Malayan, and I guessed from a few words that I knew that there was a hue and cry at the Residency. You know how all pleasure is at once spoiled when, after you have been enjoying yourself very much, you find that people at home have been restless and uneasy about you; and as it is one of my traveling principles to avoid being a bother to people, I was very sorry. We found a general state of perturbation. Major Swinburne, who was leaning over the veranda, received us with some very pungent objurgations, and told us that Mr. Low was out and very anxious. I was covered with mire, and wet from head to foot, and disappeared, but when we sat down to the long-delayed dinner I saw from Mr. Low's silence and gloomy manner that he had been really much annoyed; however, he recovered himself, and we had a very lively evening of conversation and discussion, though I had a good deal of pain from the inflamed bites of the bloodsuckers in the swamp. Malay scouting parties had been sent in various directions. Rajah Dris (Idris) was away with one, and the Sikh police were all ready to do nobody knows what, as there were no dogs. Major Swinburne said that his fears did not travel farther than the river, which he thinks is dangerous to cross at night in a "dug out;" but Mr. Low had before him the possibility of our having been assailed by bad characters, or of our having encountered a tiger in the jungle, and of my having been carried off from my inability to climb a tree!
It is very interesting and pleasant to see the relations which exist between Mr. Low and the Malays. At this moment three Rajahs are lying about on the veranda, and their numerous followers are clustered on and about the stairs. He never raises his voice to a native, and they look as if they like him, and from their laughter and cheeriness they must be perfectly at ease with him. He is altogether devoted to the interests of Pêrak, and fully carries out his instructions, which were, "to look upon Pêrak as a native State ultimately to be governed by native Rajahs," whom he is to endeavor to educate and advise "without interfering with the religion or custom of the country." He obviously attempts to train and educate these men in the principles and practice of good government, so that they shall be able to rule firmly and justly. Pêrak is likely to become the most important State of the Peninsula, and I earnestly hope that Mr. Low's wise and patient efforts will bring forth good fruit, at all events in Rajah Dris.
Mr. Low is only a little over fifty now, and when he first came the Rajahs told him that they were "glad that the Queen had sent them an old gentleman!" He is excessively cautious, and, like most people who have had dealings with Orientals, is possibly somewhat suspicious, but his caution is combined with singular kindness of heart, and an almost faulty generosity regarding his own concerns, as, for instance, he refuses to send his servants to prison when they rob him, saying: "Poor fellows! they know no better."
This is my last evening here, and I am so sorry. It is truly "the wilds." There is rest. Then the apes are delightful companions, and there are all sorts of beasts, and birds, and creeping things, from elephants downward. The scenery and vegetation of the neighborhood are beautiful, the quiet Malay life which passes before one in a series of pictures is very interesting, and the sight of wise and righteous rule carried on before one's eyes, with a total absence of humbug and red-tapeism, and which never leaves out of sight the training of the Malays to rule themselves, is always pleasing. I like Kwala Kangsa better than any place that I have been at in Asia, and am proportionately sorrier to leave it.
Mr. Low would have sent me up the Pêrak in the Dragon boat, and over the mountains into Kinta on elephants, if I could have stayed; but I cannot live longer without your letters, and they, alas! are at Colombo. Mr. Low kindly expresses regret at my going, and says he has got quite used to my being here, and added: "You never speak at the wrong time. When men are visiting me they never know when to be quiet, but bother one in the middle of business." This is most amusing, for it would be usually said: "Women never know when to be quiet." Mr. Maxwell one day said, that when men were with him he could "get nothing done for their clatter." I wished to start at 4 A.M. to-morrow, to get the coolness before sunrise, but there are so many tigers about just now in the jungle through which the road passes, that it is not considered prudent for me to leave before six, when they will have retired to their lairs.



Street of Kuala Kangsar - circa 1880

The Golden Chersones - Isabella Bird.

My Boy Has Grown Up

When your boy reaches adolescent it's inevitable for a father to make comparison of himself at that age with a slight apprehension of how time flies so fast between their generation. First to mind would be to tell him NOT to repeat his mistakes of residential stay or better still, to maximize his boarding experiences - as that would be wasted lessons indeed.

The boys after evening prayers - sports ahoy...!

We all want them to be successful in their own ways, happiness, grateful and faithful to God and respectful to others. We want them to be outstanding professional gentlemen that can fill in the roles of their potential talents - be it in corporate, government or business world. We want them to be more than what we had achieved and give back to mankind more than what we are able to contribute. We certainly have very high hopes for them - but sometimes we are afraid of telling them - as we fear of burdening them further unnecessarily...!

Kuala Lumpur Duta Station Terminal

Casual traveling uniform in black.

But then perhaps they may be able to deliver more than us as we certainly had laid out the best foundation for them. The borderless digital world has made an even platform of opportunities across the countries. Our sons are able to absorb those ever increasing vast knowledge earlier, faster and better than when we were at that age. They are confident, level-headed and inspired to perform the best that they could. Importantly, they know how to set priorities - and enjoying themselves as after all they are just like the teenage boys around the world....!

Adel circa mid-2015

The signature MCKK tie hang up to dry...!

Kuala - Lumpur - Kangsar

MCKK is blessed with a bus station merely a few hundred meters from the school with the traditional train station slightly further away to the west. However, with the bus routes along north-south highway and drivers much more eager to make the journey shorter than the parents, in less than three hours the boys can be back to Kuala Lumpur Duta station...! The bus journey is safe, convenient and definitely value for money considering the highway tolls, petrol and meals to spend when travelling return to Kuala Kangsar.

More Fares

However, tickets can only be bought slightly over two weeks ahead whilst the online service can only be said as a mischievous attempt to show internet savvy, but far from being a service. Best to avoid it completely so as not to get heartache or heartburn to whatever ailments most parents at their age will have with teenage sons...!

Plusliner Fares - Duta & Pudu Sentral Kuala Lumpur

Bus Fares from Kuala Kangsar

Nonetheless, after a year of bus subscription of more than 6 times from Duta to Kuala Kangsar the delays had been not more than slight inconveniences, but more importantly incident free thus far.


Ticketing Counter

Only setback for the boys, sometimes when they reached Kuala Kangsar bus station with their home treasures in bags, sacks, trolleys or even boxes - they have to drudgingly drag their loots a few hundred meters along the uneven footpaths to their hostels. Then again they are boys - that should be really character-building moments for them.

Carpe Diem

John Keating: They're not that different from you, are they? Same haircuts. Full of hormones, just like you. Invincible, just like you feel. The world is their oyster. They believe they're destined for great things, just like many of you, their eyes are full of hope, just like you. Did they wait until it was too late to make from their lives even one iota of what they were capable? Because, you see gentlemen, these boys are now fertilizing daffodils. But if you listen real close, you can hear them whisper their legacy to you. Go on, lean in. Listen, you hear it? - - Carpe - - hear it? - - Carpe, carpe diem, seize the day boys, make your lives extraordinary.

1906

1907

1954

John Keating: We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, "O me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless... of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?" Answer. That you are here - that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?

Hari Anugerah 2015

Debating Trips

Let's Get Nostalgic

You have to be senseless in life not to appreciate the romanticism of this college, as with it's immense historical buildings, open green fields and towering trees around the campus. It may be  antiquated or neglected in appearance at certain corners, nevertheless it is a public school with public funding to match on a premier national residential school. The successful old boys certainly gave back generously to the school wisely and appropriately, as can be seen on it's solar photovoltaic panels on the covered car parking. A swimming pool tucked away to one side of the hostel was another of it's old boys contribution to their alma mater.

Playfield behind prep school

Boys in Black - trademark of MCKK students

Parents scurrying in to register back their boys

Solar Photovoltaic Car Parking Sheds

Basketball Court for the prep school boys - Year 1

Prep School Dormitory

New Hall from the rear end.

Class Building

Academic Building & Surau

Picturesque Landscape

Inevitable bus shed & a newer hostel block behind.

Of course, the Big Tree

Latest addition to the curriculum.

Year 2 - Back to College

Early Sunday morning the whole family woke up before 5.30am to make our way to Kuala Kangsar for Year 2 registration. Continuous driving for slightly over 2 hours, we made to the year 2 hostel in the Big School compound right at the furthest end from the entrance gate. The boys were housed in dorms according to their groups. Adel's dorm 7 was at the third floor even closer to the town street than prep school dormitory as shown in the photos below.

 Look closely, you will see Secret Recipe new outlet along the street shop.

 Mosque literally next door.

 

Some families came the day before to pick on beds of their choice. Others reserved a bed or two as requested by their friends.

 Kakak was in hand to help Adel out in making his bed and sorting out his cupboard.

 

Medan Pelajar - Students Gallery

All fees duly paid up and subscribed in accordance to guidelines set by the school. The teachers were also on administrative duty to ensure quick registration for all, and it was very efficient indeed..!

Back to the hostel, Lukman's family has arrived and took the bed across the dorm. All 14 beds allocated in this dorm were fully occupied even before noon.

First priority for each boy would be to ensure making his bed sheet cover in spick and span as anything less would mean inviting prefects' admonition or worse, unwanted punishment.

 

Lukman's family

 

Like father like son.

That's my son you know!