Our forefathers fought and died in the war so we can live as a proud and free nation today. Every time I tried to put myself in their shoes, I will get goose-bumps, a chill in my bones. But that was the reality of life back then. They could have to let it go and enjoyed the “cooperation” with the foreign bastards; some did and some did not. I will celebrate the day for those who did not; like Tok Janggut. He was labeled terrorist by the Bastards, hunted down and hung upside down in Kota Bharu for everyone to see. No record of protest was ever mentioned by anyone during that time; thus he was truly believed by all as a terrorist and deserved to die. Maybe people were too weak to show any protest. We believed the Bastards and our coward leaders trusted the Bastards as they drove the brutal Japanese out of Malaya. And that was how we gained the freedom by sucking up to the Bastards. Freedom washed up to our shore so cheaply. The blood of our forefathers was tolerated in a negotiation in London. Are we truly free from the Bastards? We never wanted to ask that question because we are afraid of the answer. Our mind, our action even our life in one way or another are chained to the Bastards. If I were to live back then I would hopefully be one of the fighters, running around with parang or golok to chase the Bastards away from my kampong. But I was born after the war and all I could ask is why didn’t we fuck the war with the Bastards? WHY? History is there for us to learn and take lesson; not to suck on it for reasons to be contented. For some war is a crime; but if you look at it again, war is the implementation of your struggle (pengisian satu perjuangan). So if you never struggle for anything then war seems to be so far off; just like a man born on a silver plate will never understand a struggle to fight hunger or poverty. My father told me that when the Japs landed at Pantai Sabak and traveled the dusty road by their bicycles through the kampong ; he and his friends would cheered them like we cheered the LTDLangkawi race teams coming through our towns. The difference is that the same Japs would comeback and brutalized his kampong later on. All the horror stories during the war that we heard came to reality. He was in tears when recalling all those times to show his deep sense of fear and agony. The struggle of Tok Janggut was genuine but the Bastards painted it otherwise. When I passed the place where Tok Janggut was hung upside down near Masjid Muhammadi, my mind would stop thinking to let my body feel the whole scenario. The ignorance. The fear. The showcase of death. The Bastards. And the Suckers who fed the Bastards.
It was the time our people searched for their dignity, pride and values. I am not sure whether we really have got it or not but we are consistently being labeled as a lazy race who prefers to “negotiate” our ways instead of fighting for what is right to us. The minds are still “chained up” with bitter memories of the past and has slowed down our pace. Freedom is to let go the chains and be the one race that defines itself. For better or worst.
Happy Merdeka Day folks!
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