Memoir hijrah dua negara Nor Baiti

Oleh GHAZALI ALIAS
Foto FARIZ RUSADIO

NUR BAITI (kanan) bersama anaknya, Izuan menampilkan kelainan dengan mencipta lagu tema untuk buku Across The Causeway: A Singapore Childhood.

MEMBESAR pada sekitar tahun 1960-an tatkala kontroversi pemisahan dua negara Malaysia dan Singapura telah menyingkap 1,001 kenangan yang menjadi rencah dalam kehidupannya.

Pada zaman kanak-kanak yang sepatutnya diwarnai dengan keceriaan, penulis berpengalaman Nor Baiti Badarudin akur dengan keputusan keluarganya untuk berhijrah dari Kaki Bukit, Singapura ke Kampung Datuk Keramat, Kuala Lumpur bagi memulakan kehidupan baharu di sana.

Bertitik tolak daripada penutupan Stesen Kereta Api Tanjong Pagar, Singapura pada 30 Jun 2011, anak kelahiran Singapura itu menghidupkan semula kenangannya dalam semangat Melayu Singapura melalui naskhah Across The Causeway: A Singapore Childhood.

“Buku ini merupakan memoir tentang pengalaman hidup dari sudut pandang seorang kanak-kanak yang hanya menurut arus saat konflik dua negara tercetus.

“Ia juga membawa unsur sejarah yang mencerminkan nilai kemelayuan dan kisah di sebalik setiap perhentian sepanjang perjalanan menaiki tren Senandung Malam,” katanya ketika ditemui Kosmo! di Perpustakaan Awam Bukit Damansara, Kuala Lumpur baru-baru ini.

Lagu tema

Across The Causeway: A Singapore Childhood adalah kisah yang berkisar tentang kronologi perjalanan seorang kanak-kanak untuk menuju masa depan yang belum pasti di Kuala Lumpur.

Ia bukan sahaja berlatarbelakangkan reaksi masyarakat tentang pemisahan dua negara itu, tetapi turut merangkumkan kisah silam keluarganya.

Menurut ibu kepada dua orang cahaya mata itu, idea penulisan naskhah tersebut bermula dengan penglibatannya dalam penulisan blog Rabiah Hijrah pada tahun 2011.

Rentetan kepada perkongsian pada setiap entri dan impiannya untuk berkongsi cerita silam yang terpalit dengan kisah sejarah telah membawa kepada penerbitan buku di bawah syarikat Syurga Media milik anaknya, Izuan Shah.

Membesar sebagai anak Melayu Singapura di tanah Malaysia tidak menghalang insan seni itu untuk berjaya dalam kariernya sebagai pendidik dan penulis.

Pernah berkhidmat sebagai wartawan di sebuah syarikat akhbar tempatan, Nor Baiti melanjutkan pelajaran dalam bidang penulisan kreatif dan deskriptif (kini Jabatan Pengajian Media) di Universiti Malaya melalui biasiswa yang ditawarkan oleh Berita Publishing pada tahun 1977 sehingga 1980.

Pada 1982 hingga 1983, beliau telah melanjutkan pelajaran peringkat sarjana di Boston, Amerika Syarikat di bawah Skim Latihan Akademik Bumiputera sebelum berkhidmat sebagai pensyarah di Universiti Malaya.

Sebelum penerbitan buku Across The Causeway: A Singapore Childhood, Nor Baiti juga bergiat aktif dalam penulisan buku-buku pendidikan dan rujukan dalam bidang media.

Uniknya buku terbaharu yang dihasilkannya mempunyai lagu tema yang memberikan wadah kepada perjalanan cerita Across The Causeway: A Singapore Childhood.

Dua bahasa

Lagu itu dicipta sendiri oleh Izuan dan turut dihasilkan dalam dua bahasa dengan judul Farewell To Foothills dan Senandung Malam.

Tidak lokek untuk berkongsi cerita dan pengalaman, Nor Baiti turut menyuarakan pendapatnya berkenaan trend karya baharu yang semakin kurang nilai sastera.

“Kebanyakan buku hari ini tidak serupa dengan buku yang saya peroleh pada masa dulu. Penerbit buku sekarang juga kurang menekankan perihal struktur bahasa, malah judulnya juga telah dirojakkan supaya dapat menarik minat pembaca,” ujarnya.

Buku Across The Causeway: A Singapore Childhood boleh didapati pada harga RM49.90 di semua kedai buku utama seluruh Malaysia atau membuat pesanan secara dalam talian di laman web www.senisyurga.com.

Untuk maklumat lanjut, orang ramai boleh melayari laman blog Nur Baiti, https://www.rabiahhijrah.blogspot.com

Artikel Penuh: http://www.kosmo.com.my/kosmo/content.asp?y=2015&dt=1223&pub=Kosmo&sec=Varia&pg=va_01.htm#ixzz3v84YLBkA 
Hakcipta terpelihara 

Kosmo! Online - Varia

The Ambassador Segment, MaTic.fm

Update:

Interview on the Ambassador Segment, MaTiC.fm, December 8 2015, 2:00 - 3:00 PM.

The author talked about the potential of Nostalgic Rail Tours along the Keretapi Tanah Melayu Berhad - KTMB's North-South and Northeastern tracks.

Kelantan, for instance, can exploit the Japanese Army landing on Sabak beach near Kota Bharu, Kelantan, which marked the outbreak of the Pacific War 74 years ago, on December 7, 1941. 

This would require the operations of the railway station at Wakaf Bharu, which was ravaged by the Great Flood of 2014, to be resumed.

Other interesting exchanges were the origins of names of Tampin - little pandan pouches for packing dodol and belacan, and Kajang, mats made of screwpine fronds which inspired a well-known pantun about a well-heeled and a threadbare traveler:

Kajang Pak Malau kajang berlipat,
Kajang saya mengkuang layu,
Dagang Pak Malau dagang bertempat,
Dagang saya musafir lalu. 

Izuan Shah wraps up the interview session with haunting strains from Senandong Malam.

Across the Causeway: A Singapore Childhood

God willing, the title will be released on Malaysia Day, September 16 2015. 
All praise be to Allah!

For Rabiah, the love of my life
May you find,
From wherever you are
These words that were left unsaid.

~ Your daughter, Bet

'Cross, across the old Causeway
Aboard the Rhythm Of The Night
Let's start a new home
We're living the history oh
North, to the Valley we go!

~ "Farewell To Foothills" (sung by Emmett)

The Senandong Malam's Swansong

23:00h, 30th June 2011

I have heard and read the news about Keretapi Tanah Melayu (KTM, or Malayan Railways) ceasing its operations at the Tanjong Pagar Station for more than a year now. The Utusan Melayu, that journalistic relic from 1939 that my mother’s father and his colleagues had shed tears, sweat and blood for, has tried to make the incident its cause celebre. But, what can a Malay language newspaper with a rapidly declining readership and advertising revenue do in the face of the modernity juggernaut?

With that defeated mindset, I switch on the television set and surrender myself to the dispassionate coverage of that moment when crass capitalism triumphs over history, legacy and sovereignty.

The screen captures the motley crowd as it swarms the narrow platform of the railway station. Clueless youth pressed against seasoned, nostalgia junkies with their smart phone cameras on standby. It is a ‘happening’ event that any ‘cool’ dude would be wont to miss.

As the seconds ticked and the temperature rises, they work themselves into frenzy as they wait for the night's event to reach its climax. It seems more like a jubilant celebration to welcome the dawn of a new era than a sad farewell to a remnant of the link between the Johor Sultanate and its former territory.

The mob stirs as they catch a glimpse of the monarch and his men appearing from the belly of the night train that HRH has personally driven from the Woodlands station. The royal entourage humours the pulsating crowd as the Sultan and his bodyguards pose against the banner which hangs on one of the passenger coaches' shells. Video-cams, manual and digital cameras rolled, clicked and flashed to capture the historic moment.

The Ruler raises his hands for the customary do'a, prayers asking the Almighty for a safe journey (perhaps). Then he leads the royal entourage back into the waiting carriage. All aboard the Rhythm of the Night as it wakes up from its idle stupor. He takes over control of the rail car from its designated driver. The Station Master takes a seat in the front coach and feigns a weak smile, relieved of the authority to blow the whistle and flag down the departing locomotive. Instead, someone in KTM uniform rang a cast metal bell that strangely resembles that of the Sun Sun ice cream seller. The other uniformed staff members press their lips as they scan the crowd through the carriage window. The Sultan waves to the excited crowd and press the levers that set the carriage’s wheels in motion.

My heart clenches as the last Senandong Malam sighs, slithers and weeps its way out of the Cape of Fence. It seems like only yesterday when Mak and me were seated in the belly of that ‘iron serpent’ as it glided along the railway tracks and cut its way through that balmy December night.

Across the Causeway

Farewell Shot With the Clan 

I remember

It was December ‘65
School holidays

Ma sprang a surprise:

“Siddi said it’s best we shift to KL”

What seemed like a few short days

She threw most of our stuff into some suitcases

And when the Fateful Day came

Yat and I put on our new stripe dresses with the Peter Pan collars

And pulled on the bright, white socks tucked into the brown Mary Janes

“Don’t forget the white hankies and zipped shiny purses for purchases”

When Ma heard the ‘Beep, beep’ sound of the horn

And sighted the taxi without the permit   

With its engine running

And emitting smoke

On the dusty road

She said,

“Hurry up, girls, we don’t have the red carpet and the Rolls Royce at our disposal”

No sooner than the doors were slammed

It raced to the FMS Railway Station at the Cape of Fence

Sending us and our baggage flying for defence

Neighbours and uncles and aunties and cousins and friends

Were already there to say

Selamat Jalan!

Keretapi Tanah Melayu (KTM)

I tagged along

As Mal and Yat paced the platform

Trying to catch the sight of the Station Master in uniform

On the side of the grimy red engine

Were written the words Senandong Malam

The Rhythm of the Night was the night train's name
Which will transport us to our destination

As we passed by the shells of the cream and dark brown coaches

We thought of dust-covered vanilla ice cream blocks on thick chocolate wafers

No doubt thrown on the tracks by the grumpy Sun Sun Ice Cream Seller

The restaurant car was deep in the belly of the train

With shiny long tables and metal benches

And cooks-waiters in white aprons behind steel counters.

At the last few carriages, the writing Muatan Busuk Segera had us baffled

What indeed were these Perishables

That must be instantly loaded

At the tail of the iron centipede

Before they rot and stank and caused a stampede?

Soon the first ‘phritt’ was heard

T’was time to trace our steps back

We kissed our uncles’ and aunts’ hands

Hugged our cousins and friends

By the second ‘phriitt, phriitt’

We had to get our feet on the three short steps

Unless Ma let us pull some stunts

We daren’t jump on rolling wagons!

Our eyes in tears

Our cheeks wet

We jammed the stairs

Our bodies jerked

As the train made a sudden start

When the third ‘phriiittt, phriiittt, phriiittt!!!’

Trilled from the Station Master’s whistle

And his tiny, green flag was unfurled. 

We leant on the thin rubber padding 
With blood red vinyl covering

What passed as benches

On third class coaches

Our arms rested on the open window ledge

The glass was heavy and thick  

And the steel shutters slid down

Like guillotines!

The yellow lights were kind

But the ‘whrrr, whrrr, whrrr’ of the small ceiling fans

Kept yanking our eyelids up

Dozing off was really hard

When so many were milling about

And the ‘clacketty, clack, clacketty, clack’ as the ticket collector made his rounds

Punching holes into thick paper stubs

    Making sure no free riders were aboard

Link:            http://www.brianfloca.com/Locomotive.html