Cindaku

By Ahmad Nazri Abdullah

The story weaves an intricate web of suspense and excitement as folklore and legends traveled down the path of history and wended their way into the life of the young protagonist, Jamil, as he spent his semester break at a friend's house close to the Titiwangsa Range in Gerik, Perak. As he trekked through the jungle in search of fun and excitement, his ancestor's past was fast catching up on him. He was surprised to learn who his ancestor was: an orphan, an itinerant seller of traditional medicine, a soldier of fortune; and he was more than just an ordinary human being, he was a cindaku. The story is fraught with tales of human greed, court intrigue, internecine war and foreign intervention which saw the fall of old kingdoms that used to prosper along the Strait of Malacca. It takes you traveling down the path of history and back again into the present world, an incredible tale of revelation and salvation.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ahmad Nazri Abdullah
• Release date: Aug 17, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393672685

Ahmad Nazri Abdullah

Ahmad Nazri Abdullah is a retired university lecturer. He holds a Bachelor of Arts degree in English (Literature) from George Mason University and a Master of Arts degree in TESL from Central Missouri State University.He now resides in Kedah, Malaysia.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

July, 1873. The forest of Jambi, off the coast of Sumatera, Indonesia.

The two beasts fought on ferociously for almost an hour now. Neither was about to give up. It was a fight to the death. From the inner bowers of the forest the two inched closer to the edge of the cliff. The sound of the rolling sea could be heard down below as waves leapt against the foot of the hills.

The two beasts, with bared claws that could easily rip open the guts of a big, hefty buffalo, and armed with jaws of fanged death, circled one another tentatively with sinewy muscles rippling underneath their striped coat as they looked for an opportunity to deliver the killer blow that would end it all.

Suddenly, the slightly smaller, younger beast lunged forward as it saw an opportunity, a slight one though, as the bigger, older beast crouched lower than necessary in an act of exhaustion. The two were really close to the edge of the cliff now and were perched precariously on it as the sound of the mighty sea could be heard crashing against the foot of the hills. As the smaller beast impetuously leapt into the air to sink its jaws of death into the other beast’s neck, the bigger, older tiger rolled deftly away, sending its opponent sailing down into the waiting sea and into imminent death.

The bigger beast rose from its crouching position and, as the fading light of the sun fell on its face, its claws and fangs rolled away into oblivion as its whole body miraculously took on a human form.  It was a were tiger, the legendary beast of Sumatera, Cindaku as the locals called him, the mighty one, greatly feared by both man and beasts. He looked wistfully down below but could not see anything much in the fading light.

CHAPTER ONE

The trip began

Present day Sintok , in the state of Kedah, northern Malaysia.

Eight in the morning and the sun was slowly rearing its majestic shiny orb for all to see, throwing tall shadows against the hilly landscape that surrounded the university. The university was already almost empty of its denizens as it was the beginning of the long semester break. He moved quickly to fold some clothes that he took out from the cupboard that stood at the far end of the room and stashed them into the large back pack he bought a few months ago just for this purpose. 

His good friend Hamid would come any minute now and the two of them would hit the road for the long journey back to Hamid’s hometown of Kerunai near the listless town of Gerik in the state of Perak. He had planned the trip last year but had to postpone it because his mother was not feeling well. She was down with an acute bout of dengue fever that had hit home in Kuala Lumpur. She recovered fast, thanks to the advancement made possible by modern medicine. He was a city boy and life in the city had gotten pretty dull for him and he craved to go to a place where pristine jungle beckoned and tall mountains stood guard like sentinels watching over the animals that roamed freely in the lush green undergrowth.

The two of them were second year students majoring in computer science at this state university in northern Malaysia. The university was equipped with good facilities but their main grouse was the location of the place, which was right smack in the middle of nowhere. He remembered when he bade goodbye to his parents after all the registration nuts and bolts were taken care of. He could feel the lump in his throat and he was no cry baby. He was a tough guy inside and out. At five-foot-eight he was taller than the average Malay kids and he played rugby for the university, scrum half, and crying would not come easy to him. He remembered when his left arm was broken due to a bad tackle and he had to be hospitalized for a few miserable days, but he would always be at the field to cheer his teammates on when he got better. But his rugby days were over, doctor’s advice. It saddened him much not to be able to play anymore, to run like the wind to bring the opposing players down as they came his way. 

Registration day was the first time he was away from home and for the first few months he missed the great amenities that a big city like Kuala Lumpur provided.  Everything he wanted was only a few blocks away from his house. His parents were both professionals and had provided him with the luxuries of life that would be the envy of other less-privileged kids. But after a while, he became inured to the slow-paced life on and off campus ground.

Hamid, on the other hand, came from a small village in upstate Perak where tigers and other wild animals could still roam free in the jungle despite the increasing number of poachers who came from as far  away as Vietnam and Myanmar to hunt them for their skin and meat, purportedly for medicinal purposes. At five-foot-six, Hamid was the team’s wing three-quarter. He was the fast guy. Light but built tough nonetheless. His father lived off the jungle; every day he would be trekking the land in search of jungle produce like wild banana leaves, bamboo shoots, herbs and sell these fortnightly at the small town of Gerik which was about five miles away from the village of Kerunai.  Hamid was on the state government’s scholarship meant for the Bottom 40s. As a village boy, he was resilient but intelligent.

The two became bosom buddies the first time they met on the field for team practice.

Hey, you ready, Jamil? he heard the voice from behind and  spun around to see Hamid standing in the doorway.

Yes, about done...give me a few more minutes.

Don’t forget the teddy bear your Mom gave you.

Yeah, right, he shot back in mock anger. But he missed her much.

From the campus, they would be travelling west towards the small town of Changlun about 10 miles away before getting on the North-South Highway, and from the entry point there would turn left and  be coasting along for about two hours where they would exit at North Sungai Petani toll plaza and travel the city road before connecting with the rural road that would carry them to Gerik about two hour’s drive away. The road would be wending along hilly terrains as Gerik was located close to the Titiwangsa Range that formed the backbone of peninsular Malaysia.

Parts of the land were still pristine jungles and untouched by modern life. Some places were still without amenities like electricity and running water, and the inhabitants lived quite a Spartan lifestyle but most didn’t mind the rugged life. The green hilly terrains afforded them the kind of life that some would crave for. Imagine this—bathing in the open space at the crack of dawn, trekking the jungle for fresh produce, watching wild animals in their natural habitat, and occasionally going to the small town for some provisions like Man Friday. They didn’t mind at all, and the government provided a mobile clinic to take care of the sick and check on their health at the end of every month.

Okay, I’m done packing. Let’s hit the road.

He turned around to see his friend grinning from ear to ear. Hamid was carrying his back pack on his left shoulder while the other hand was spinning the keys to his room around in their round metal chain, the jangling sound soft but audible. He looked happy.

Have you told your parents you’d be coming home with me to Gerik? Hamid asked.

Done that and they just told me to keep safe.

Let’s go then. Is your car ready for the journey?

I sent it for check-up yesterday. It’ll be fine. Not a Porsche you know, but it is good enough. It’s already 8.30.

Jamil hefted his back pack onto his left shoulder with ease, took one last look and locked the door behind him. They sauntered casually to the car park down below, and upon reaching the car Jamil manually unlocked the door on the driver’s side and did the same from inside for the passenger door. Threw his back pack into the back seat and tried to make himself comfortable.

You want me to carry you into the car or what? Get in here pronto or I will leave without you. He looked at Hamid who was still grinning sheepishly outside.

I was waiting for you to invite me in. If you don’t do that I would feel unwelcome, Hamid shot back.

Okay, please get into the car now.

Hamid climbed into the passenger’s seat, made himself comfortable and strapped the seat belt for good measure. It’s the law of the country. The government just loves to make sure that the people are safe on the road. Jamil slotted the key into the ignition, gave it a good turn and the engine rolled over without much effort. He spread his arms in a show of pleasure and smiled at Hamid who gave him the thumbs up. He slowly reversed the car, got it straightened up and made a slow drive for the exit. The security officer in the guard house waved at him and he waved back goodbye. See you next moon, old man. Gerik, here we come, he said to no one in particular. It would be a four-hour drive but they wouldn’t mind since it had been more than three months since they last clawed their way out of the campus and hit the open road heading for an out of the way place that promised them the lush green hills of the Range and all its hidden secrets.

CHAPTER TWO

The rescue

July, 1873. A few miles off the coast of Jambi, Sumatera.

In the early morning