Daisies and Dragon Slayers of the Equator: Dragon Slayer Series, #1

By Penny Singham

The story is a historical fantasy that happens in a fictional small town in Malaysia that depicts reliance on the paranormal. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Penny Singham
• Release date: Nov 5, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393116073

Penny Singham

I was born in a seaside town called Mersing on the east coast of West Malaysia. I went to uni in Singapore and lived briefly in NYC before returning to Malaysia. I live with my cat Putih and two dogs, Brownie and Coco. I enjoy ancient history and mysteries, cooking, baking, yoga and walking. And I love coffee at Starbucks.

Book preview

Three things you cannot hide for long : the sun, the moon and the truth. - Buddha

In  the  end, only  three  things  matter : how much you loved, how  gently  you lived, 

and how  gracefully  you  let  go  of  things  not meant  for  you.  - Buddha 

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Introduction  p.6

Preface  p. 7

Background p.8-p.17

Chapter 1 The Childhood p18-88

Part I Memories p.15-18

Part II Middle Class of the Town  p.19-44

Part III May 13 Race Riot  p.44-52

Part IV The Impact  p.52-58

Part V The Blue Print..p 58-67

Part VI The Transfer  p.68-73

Part VII The Hostage  p 74-81

Part VIII A Light In The Darkening Passage  p.82-83

Part IX  The List Remembered  p.84-88

Chapter 2 - The Beginning pg 89

Chapter 3 - The Alma Mater pg 109

Chapter 4 - Oormila's Family in the Town pg 117

Chapter 5 - No.39A Butler Road pg 100

Chapter 6 - The Chinese Village pg 105

Chapter 7 - Oormila's Friends in School and Neighbourhood pg 122

Chapter 8 - Gifts and Goodbyes pg 223

Chapter 9 - Jo's Journey pg 136

Chapter 10 - Oormila in the UK and Her Return pg 137

Chapter 11 - The Wedding Proposal pg 146

Chapter 12 - Escape and Abandonment pg 150

Part I - The Plan to Escape pg 150

Part II - The Escape and Its Impact pg152

Part III - Oormila on the Run pg 156

Part IV – Oormila’s bleak Journey pg 164

Chapter 13- Sudden Falls and Accidents pg 165

Part I - Car in the Ravine and After pg 165

Part II - Friends Lessen the Bitter Journey pg 169

Part III - The Fall in the Train pg 174

Part IV – Swee Lan’s Visit pg 178

Chapter 14 - Jo's Journey Continues pg 180

Chapter 15 - Jo's Romance pg184

Chapter 16 - Rescue and Revelation pg 185

Part I - Michael Reaches Out pg 185

Part II - Michael Discovers Plan to End Oormila pg 189

Part III - VK and His Geomancer Go Ahead pg 196

Part IV - Michael To The Rescue pg 205

Part V – Michael Lands in Malaysia 211

Chapter 16A – The Leaving pg 214

The acronyms and Malay and other words are explained in the glossary at the end of the book.

All illustrations in this book are by way of photographs with credit to bigstockphoto.com for all photos except one, which is credited to the author.

Copyright©2018 by Penny Singham. All rights are reserved worldwide. No part of this publication may be replicated, redistributed, reproduced, copied or given away in any form without the prior written consent of the author/publisher or the terms relayed to you herein:

Penny Singham (LLB Hons) (LL.M)

Email:  [e-mail]

This book is dedicated to everyone who contributed to its making in one way or other especially Putih and others including editors, reviewers, acquaintances, old friends and schoolmates.  I wish to thank God, life and the universe for making this book possible. And a very special thanks to the founder of the Art of Living Foundation, namely, Sri Sri Ravi Shankar who  taught  that it is my birth right to be able to live in a crime free country with a disease free body, quiver free breath, confusion free mind, inhibition free intellect, trauma free memory and a sorrow free soul.

Introduction

IN ORDER, TO UNDERSTAND the characters, circumstances and cultural ethos prevailing in the 70s and beyond, depicted in the story, it is best that one understands the beginning of Malaysia, the composition of its people, its geographical and historical wealth set out in the Backgroundin Appendix I together with Appendix II which gives the meanings of the foreign and local Malay words and lastly Appendix III which helps readers to remember the names of characters and roles they play in the story.

Preface

21 SEPTEMBER 2018. OORMILA looked behind for the last time from the back seat of the Jaguar as the car hurriedly left the gates of her parents' home. She saw her gardener Jack, still waving. His face was dark with sadness - his eyes hollow as if part of his soul was leaving him. His tall figure stood alone outside the porch on the driveway. The home she came to know and love appeared desolate and bereft against the grey and overcast evening. Her heart sank to leave Jack behind and wondered what would happen to him. She was compelled to put those thoughts away swiftly as she had to focus on the immediate journey to meet the others - who would journey with her - at the Kuala Lumpur International Airport. Her best friend ,Jo, who had flown in to help with arrangements, sat by her side and was calm. They were on a flight out - a flight out of Malaysia. The flight was 33 hours long with stopovers at Luton Airport in the UK and JFK Airport in the US before they would reach their final destination.

As the jet left the tarmac, each of whom, involved whether by design or by nature, reflected on a series of events that when pieced together revealed a future that was made of an indefensible medieval culture dictated by sorcerers, wizards and mediums that made them reach the inevitable conclusion that the only way to survive from being trapped, shackled and made to die in ways chosen in stealth by the practitioners of the dark culture or have their souls manipulated as fodder for their enemies’ intents and purposes, was a flight out - a flight out to a higher and safer ground from whence the dark and merciless forces, prevailing for centuries in dark corners of Malaysia, could effectively be combated, defeated, and silenced and brought to the good side - to the side of the light.

mother and daughter on beach

Oormila and her mother at their favourite seaside retreat nearby the Town

Chapter One -The Childhood

Part I Memories

The seashores were long: Oormila held her mother's hand and walked along the shores, watching the white waves crash into the soft muscovado sand. These mornings etched uplifting, cool, crisp memories in her psyche, notwithstanding where the journey of life took Oormila. Oormila adored her mother because she was a treasure trove of knowledge: of seas and islands, countries and flags; and all sorts of stuff called geography.

When it was low tide Oormila's mother and her brood would roll up their pants and walk from the front of the government beach house, where they stayed, on the weekends - when possible - to the islet that emerged in low tide. Mangrove trees were abound ; crabs in crevices ; mushy mudskippers in mating antics doing flip-flops, summersaults , tip-toeing on their fins, sunbathing on rocks and resting on mud flats on a lookout for a crab or two - as always the opportunist predator. Oormila would squeal, splashing in the waves, her spirit-running wild into the ocean. Her brothers were more secretive. They carried their small blue plastic pails and tiny shovels to erect castles and caves but for Oormila’s elder brother Thina, inside his mind he was already building castles in the air. He wanted to grow up to be an architect like his uncle, Sunny Sundram, who having been born and bred in Singapore migrated to England in the eighties after Singapore introduced pragmatic campaigns like Speak Mandarin to its people so as to anchor itself as an independent nation carrying Sino blood as its majority notwithstanding the historical imprints left by the British and Europeans, Indian merchants and others since 1819 when Sir Stamford Raffles managed to lease the island of Singapore from the Sultan of Johor  - the ruler from the southernmost state of Johor in Malaya. Meanwhile, Thina suppressed his child-like instincts and followed his mother's every word as if it were the Bible since he was the eldest and most brilliant of the three. Oormila’s mum told them exactly when the tide would come to submerge the islet. And how much time they had, to walk back to the shore on the beachfront. She had always checked for tide forecast, came to know that low tides usually happened early in the mornings and that they usually came in the first two weeks of the month, and lasted about six to seven hours. And she avoided those weekends with Spring tides since the high tides reached an amplitude of about 10 feet, which seemed a little more risky than otherwise. She loved the mangrove trees and water in between that kept the fishes and crabs breeding in clean, clear water, hence, safer to be edible.

Chapter One

Part II

Middle Class of The Town

Thina's father, Dr.Ratnam, an ex-surgeon, co-opted to be in the service, was the Deputy Director of the Chief Medical Health Office of  Sembilang - which was known amongst staff and others in the town in its acronym form of CMHO.

Sembilang or rather just referred as the Town amongst its people was the main town, in the state of Ujong, located nearby the capital city of Malaysia namely, Kuala Lumpur. For this story, the word Town’ would be used to refer to the Sembilang town. He assumed the position on 3rd April 1969, and was in the business of getting to know the staff in his department including the staff at the Sembilang General Hospital, which was the main public hospital in the ensuing months that followed his appointment. Everyone in the Town who spoke English referred to it by its acronym GH".

November 1969. Dark clouds were at a distance. Dr.Ratnam figured that it was raining about 4 or 5 miles away and knew he had enough time to get to the GH - and back  to the CMHO office before lunch - to meet new acquaintances in the administration including the medical staff, especially some old friends who had made their way to this part of Malaysia.

His new Toyota Corolla sped up the hill on a road that was aptly named after an Indian doctor, namely, Dr.Karuppan, which name in Tamil meant a black man. It was in the culture of Tamilians to name according to the traits or trade of the family or of the Hindu mythological gods that the family worshipped or loved and they were usually premised on humour. If a male child was born with fair skin, he was called Vellaiyan meaning white one. And when they felt the baby was handsome, they would name it like, Alagappan meaning handsome one. However, most of the time they inclined towards picking names of gods and goddesses that represented wealth, learning, light or love. Lakhshmi was the goddess of wealth and was always depicted sitting on a blossoming pink lotus. As such, many Indian girls were given that name, in the hope the child would bring wealth and prosperity. Saraswati was the Goddess of learning and was featured in pictures sitting on a white lotus playing the veena – an ancient string instrument much like the sitar. The list goes on endlessly, each name representing something of the earth, celestial body or human value. Theirs was a love affair with the solar system – with the sun itself. There was Pongal Day, a harvest festival that fell on 14th January to honour the sun as it made its journey northwards. Homes were spring-cleaned and rice pudding with dried fruits and spices and grain were cooked in ancient clay pots outside their homes whilst the doors were adorned with sugarcane stems to celebrate the sun in gratitude for a bountiful harvest. In all that festivity, cows were worshipped after they were bathed, adorned with bells, sheaves of corn and garlands. They are then fed new grass and other food and allowed to rest. We hear that on Pongal day, landlords would send gifts to their tenants as a sign of gratitude. Besides the Pongal Day, the sun played many roles in their daily lives. The yogic posture called Sun Salutation which carried with it 12 sub-postures was done in the morning facing the sun. So, Tamils, one could say, were one lot in love with the sun. Everything they did had something to do with the sun, the moon and the rest of the planets in the solar.  And one popular name for boys was Surya in reference to the Sun God.

Tamil women had a penchant back then in the 70s to wear their saris in bright colours of the rainbow. Often the patterns came with checks and all sorts of combinations would run through vertical and horizontal columns, and often they did appear off-beat. Bright oranges running with brown vertical columns. Bright green like that of grass would be matched against gold or red or even pink. It was a riot of colours that was dizzying to the so-called modern Malaysians who were just getting into the act of emulating the western office and business wear. It was incongruous. And those women in those coloured saris were quickly given the condescending label estate as if it were a trademark. that meant that these were from the latex tapping lineage and as such, not accepted in the sophisticated world created by the British before they left our shores. The only exceptions were the professionals who dominated the civil service and some who were from the private sector who absorbed the West into their blood and were beholden to the Queen of the England, as if, English tradition and history were part of their history and culture too. This caused deep seated rivalry that bordered on an unpleasant animosity between them and the majority and others in the fat race after the  leaving of  the British.

But, with the advent of independence from the British and even way before that, these names were looked down upon as if they were some tribal sounding jibber jabber, some kind of gobbledygook emanating from some kind of mambo-jambo or sorcery practised in their ornate temples, they did not bother or refused in a steadfast way to find out about. The fine details and mythology of each different of type of temple were never given a chance or even talked about. They judged by the colour of skin, and although Tamils ranged from dark to fair and from tall to short, it did not matter. They were disparagingly seen as blacks, equivalent to the black slaves of Africa before the time of Lincoln. They also secretly exchanged views that these names were like names that seemed to them like they emanated from caves, from uncivilised drum-beating, temple-going pagans who did not have a systematic way of prayer like that which was done in the mosque or church or guduwara. But nobody wondered about Chinese names, which did sound similarly foreign to the unaccustomed, or how they prayed or where they prayed or whether they prayed at all, since most of them held court in the commercial arena and everywhere else, and to add icing to the cake, they all adopted simple English names notwithstanding that they did not bear any trace of English blood line  and neither were they Christians. The bourgeoisie perception of the Town was limited - limited by knowledge and narrow-mindedness that excepted colours and shades that were backed up by wealth - enormous wealth or positions that were advantageous to them.

The fact that those with those funny-sounding Tamil names were also highly educated, and educated enough to be western educated doctors, lawyers, judges, surveyors, engineers and train masters, did not change their mindset. Those who governed and those who stood shoulder to shoulder with them, in concert derided these names, by reason of either scarcity of knowledge or plain ignorance or more accurately, by a deliberate intention to keep them down in the ladder of society.

These names have now been abandoned or modified in Malaysia in favour of more fancy Anglo sounding names, for fear of being derided by the others who were waiting to make fun as to their queer sounds, which was a way to show their stamp of superiority over Tamils who were the leading brains in the medical and legal fields- on the one hand,whilst the rest of their lot formed the brawn and the backbone, not only in the plantations or estates as it were, but also in rendering manpower in the construction and upkeep of the infrastructure of the British, namely, roads, hospitals, colonial office buildings, colonial residences and government quarters, markets, electricity boards and offices, post offices, water department, meteorological department, survey and town planning departments, the town council, inland revenue offices, harbours, rivers, forests and most importantly the railway stations before the arrival of independence.

On seeing the name of the road, Dr.Ratnam's memory harked back to the mysterious stories told by his grandfather involving doctors and medical attendants and how they had performed death defying rescues that baffled themselves and medical field back in the early 20th century in Kuala Lumpur, during the time when the colonial masters and their Chinese counterparts were beginning to prosper through the new found wealth of Malaya.

Dr.Ratnam parked his car in a slot meant for the bigwigs of the CMHO and made his way to the lobby of the A&E section, where he was met by a very nervy Chief Clerk.

He was a slight figure in fennel brown, medium in height, about 64 inches, who could have passed off as a Chinese if not for his colour. He quickly and graciously held his hand for a handshake and introduced himself, Hello, Dr.Ratnam. I'm Saifuddin Ali, Chief Clerk. I got a call from your office last week that you would be here for an informal get-to- know session with us. Our staff is ready. In a split second, he took note of Dr.Ratnam’s countenance, especially his forehead, bridge of his nose and his unusual light brown eyes. He had expected - a ‘regular Joe’ of a Tamil - a medium built, dark skinned man with typical features of a Tamil labourer embedded in a smiley oval shaped face. 

Encik.Saifuddin, glad to meet you. How are you?, Dr.Ratnam replied observing for a moment the face that was diplomatically smiling bearing a Chinese countenance except skin tone and noted his fine grasp of English, remembering related stories about how the darker of the Chinese clans in Kuala Lumpur in the 1920s - when in war amongst clans - would often pass off as a Malay by pretending not to be able to speak any Chinese when in a hostile encounter with another Chinese of a differing clan - much like the chameleons of the rainforest.

^^^

I'm fine Dr.Ratnam. How are you finding Sembilang?

Chinese food is exceptional here. My sister and I have been staying at the Centurion Bay Hotel for last two weeks. Their roasted turkey with Chinese plum sauce and their fried rice have been phenomenal- must have cooked it with lard, Dr.Ratnam replied.

At the hearing of the word lard Saifuddin cringed in disgust and mumbled some Arabic prayer inaudibly. Dr.Ratnam made that about being cooked in lard believing the Malays to be still secular and still without complaints about bacon and ham like they did so when their white masters were around who consumed them rather openly. He was unaware that things had been changing like rapid fire all around him more so in the states outside of his home state of Johor which historically was inclined to favour the British. 

Dr.Ratnam continued, We are waiting for allocation of our government housing but got news today that it's unlikely that one is available as yet. They are placing us at a recommended housing estate at Lim Aik Garden. I took a peek at that area yesterday evening, it didn't seem that bad, atmosphere wise, but I guess it would need some adjustment since we have never stayed at a terraced house. There's a Chinese village behind that housing estate right?

Hmmm.....I've not been there. I did hear something like that from another colleague who lives there, Saifuddin said.

I also caught a glimpse of a Chinese graveyard somewhere behind the houses. Behind the last row. Dr.Ratnam noted.

Before Saifuddin could reply, two other personnel from the GH met them at another entrance, which led to a special lift meant exclusively for officers of the CMHO. Saifuddin charged forward to signal to the other two that he was bringing in the new Deputy Director for the arranged get-to-know session.

Saifuddin quickly darted to their side and introduced them typically in the Malay manner by using his thumb of his clasped right hand - to point at the two. Then he quipped, Dr.Ratnam this is our Matron, Puan Anis. And this is Sister Saraswati

Lovely meeting you. How are you Matron and Sister? Both of you look like you're going to seize the day! Dr.Ratnam said.

Everyone exploded into a diplomatic cackle to clear the air and tension. Saifuddin relieved that he has been joined by his staff, led the way for Dr.Ratnam to the lift while the other two followed behind smiling and admiring the well-built and slightly fair-skinned Dr.Ratnam.

Matron Anis whispered to Sister Saraswati, He doesn't look like the regular Indians ...I'm mean Tamils.

Sister Saras quickly replied, Tamils...er...come in both dark and light!! and let out a giggle amused by her own wit and play on words. She had cleverly avoided the word fair in reference to Dr.Ratnam’s slightly fair skin.

They rode the lift and arrived at the floor that kept the secrets of the hospital especially of the staff and their superiors and what went on inside there. There were whispers amongst those in the know that especially the mortuary and O&G Department were such that a certain dominant ethnic group decided to build their own maternity hospital to ensure the babies came home.   They walked into the main office and met the Head of Admin, a certain James Danker, who reported only to the Director serving at the CMHO. Dr.Ratnam was puzzled why James was not reporting to him as well since he was the Deputy Director. He essentially looked like another version of Saifuddin except that Danker was taller and appeared athletic in his tight white long sleeved shirt. He had an air of confidence about him almost haughty. Danker could easily pass off as a Malay save for wispy bits of wavy brown hair and his command of the English including the ability to speak without any discerning local Malaysian accent, which came in varied forms depending on the race and upbringing of the speaker. Nonetheless, he spoke fluent Malay as well with typical Malay accent adapted in and was able to glibly take off as well into the provincial Malay dialect of the state of Ujong. Nobody outside the Malay staff knew if Danker was actually a Catholic as he had claimed to the non-Malays or whether he secretly was a Muslim who did not change his name to that of a Muslim since his Catholic name sounded good and got him to places where he would be able to hear stuff from others. There were far away whispers from neighbouring countries that folks of Eurasian lineage had their names secretly recorded in a secret log in the mosques. And as such, even if the child was baptised a Catholic, his or her name was recorded in that log. The folks at the mosques considered each Eurasian as one of them since they were the product of the Portuguese  and local Malay women since they arrived in Malaya long ago in 1511. This made sense or perhaps there was truth since the majority Malay government had inducted the Eurasians as Bumiputeras as well in an oblique way by according special privileges and positions in the government. The passion of the Malay Muslims can be gathered from the Maria Hertogh story which reflects how passionately they fought for the return of Maria from her biological Dutch parents and back to her Muslim caretaker mother, in the streets, in the mosque, in the courts. They fought to get back a European child who had been left in the charge of a Muslim woman by the child’s parents during world war II for eight months after the child was forcibly returned to its natural, biological Dutch parents by the courts, reflected the cohesive, undying strength of the Muslim world here.

The get-to-know session was rather a prickly one.

hospital gettoknow session

The "get-to-know session in progress

Dr.Ratnam was teased if he could read the memos, official correspondence, reports, instruction manuals since the government had switched the medium of instruction in the government service from English to Malay or what was typically referred to as Bahasa Malaysia after independence was obtained. Danker was onto Dr.Ratnam the moment he set eyes on him. He thought to himself, Here's one of them. They think they can walk around like the British with their Queen's English. I will show them a thing or two. Or rather give a gentle hint that their days in the sun are quite, quite over.

The get-to-know session was mid-way with the staff and doctors chatting up Dr.Ratnam and taking the opportunity to tuck in some great mid-morning snacks. Coffee, tea and iced lemon tea flowed. There was mirth in the air. Danker struck. Say ol' chap how are you coping with the switch? Are you able to read the memos, letters and manual? Guess your Queen's English has to take a back seat huh! said Danker and laughed.

I'm good. My Malay is reasonable. I can handle it. I went thru 5 years of med school and a couple more in training. If I can handle medical lingo I doubt Malay is as mind boggling!!! said Dr.Ratnam and laughed aloud - louder than Danker. That shut Danker up for now at least. 

An hour or so later after getting to know the machinery that was in place he left. He was rather concerned having discovered that Danker would be reporting only to his boss the new Director of CMHO. 

The decade Dr.Ratnam was in, was an epoch that produced the zenith of Western pop music never to be seen and heard again which became part and parcel of the English-speaking middle class of Malaysia: most of whom got there by working for the British civil service at the height of their power when the British flag flew high amongst the greatest and richest nations on earth owning the sterling pound. The Caucasian civil servants de facto in Malaya were a motley lot chosen from those who exited from Oxbridge and - unknown to the world - were composed mostly of the orphans, the queer, the poor and the disenfranchised. However, together as a team they were eminent, proud, powerful and well-knit, taking instructions from their colonial offices in India and London.Their high bridged noses and tall stature and above all the skin colour somewhat subdued the Malays who were rather insecure of their Mongoloid features and their somewhat brown colour with the exception of the aristocracy who were light skinned with higher noses who did the governing of the Malays in the various states in Malaya.

The Tamils from both India and Sri Lanka who were hired from their homelands together with a small lot of local Chinese – those reformed of wearing their hair in braids and indulging in other activities came to form the civil service of Malaya that evolved to be an integral part of the service such that the need for communication in English was vital and hence, became entrenched. The rigours and needs were compelling and commanding such that the children of these civil servants mostly grew up speaking English at home as if it were their native tongue and consequently picked the norms of the English and many drifted away from their own

mother tongue thus creating a chasm between them and the rest of those in Malaya who spoke their native tongues. And thus was born the Anglophile of Malaya.

The upper echelon consisting of District Officers, Assistant District Officers, Ambassadors and the like came directly from the Malay aristocracy while the plebeians and the hoi polloi were subsumed under the lower end of the service specially called Malay Administrative Service taking on the acronym MAS composed largely of clerks, peons and drivers. They were - we are told by a historian abroad based on past findings of Europeans - temperamental that they were unsuited for working in the rubber plantations except in exceptional circumstances in small holdings. The ideal workers according to the British were the Tamils and Javanese. The Chinese have their own story in rubber plantations of their own proprietary. The Chinese never worked for any European rubber or other plantation and ,if at all, they were engaged as hired hands but not as employees.

As Dr.Ratnam drove back to his office, his thoughts were on the personalities that formed the middle class of the Town and a frown cut deeper into his forehead. He was born in Endow – a small town almost a hamlet on the East Coast of Malaya and was aware that Sembilang Town was more than what it seemed.

JamesDanker

^^^

Sketch_Master_1543560282146

Dr.Ratnam

Upon reaching his office, he headed straight to his colleague Manimaran’s room. He was called Mani in the office and those who endeared to him called him by his nickname, Highway Mani, because in the early days he travelled back and forth to work in Kuala Lumpur going on his motorbike. Adding an English word to a nickname was common amongst Tamils, always bringing on a smile and folks who would ask, why he was called Highway Mani or Tension Mani whatever else.

Mani was the Official Administrator at the CMHO of the Town and his main task was supervision of the administration of all the district hospitals in the state of Ujong. Dr.Ratnam gestured a wave to Mani who saw him and motioned him to enter his glass-panelled room that was specifically built without having a door and the following ensued:

Dr.Ratnam: Mani hi. Can I have a few minutes of your time?

Mani: Of course, doctor. Anything I can help you with.

Dr.Ratnam: It’s nothing official.

Mani: Aaah....... [A sigh of relief was seen on his face] That’s good. We're about near lunchtime anyway. Shoot doctor.

Dr.Ratnam: Tell me about the middle class situation here. So how’s the Lake Club? [Referring to the Sembilang Royal Club, the prestigious social club that was usually referred to as Lake Club]

Mani: Oh.That..hmmm. [He paused and thought for a moment or two before he answered in a fierce gusto] It’s a small, close-knit community. Everyone knows everyone and what position you hold in the government or professional private