MAZNAH'S AUTOGRAPH BOOKS - GHOST WRITER IN THE SKY! (CsH)

My sister Maznah had two autograph books covering 1953 and 1954.  It was beholden on every red-blooded pupil of Pasir Panjang English School to tote up as many signatures as possible in that precious book - like collecting notches in your pistol.  Who else could she recruit as 'volunteers' but the family?  Abah was always willing to oblige, bless his cotton socks.

The other three siblings would not do it for love or money!  We tried to escape but it was to no avail because she was the eldest - the 'she-who-must-be-obeyed'.

My pathetic attempt was ignominously pasted over as  seen below.  You can just see the 'Dear Sister' at the top left hand corner,  'Maznor' at the bottom right hand corner and my creative hearts can be found
at the bottom left. (With age the glue dried up and and my dreadful deed was exposed)  Oh the shame!
                                          

As a result of this boo-boo she dared not recruit the other younger two.  It would be an invitation to disaster.  She would never live down the scorn of her schoolmates.  Yippee ! yelled the two boys.

We found ourselves in demand for her second book.  This was a big risk but she had aces up her sleeve.

My oh-so-clever quote .....

was selected from Abah's big fat  Book of Quotations.

I was given top billing, to be given the coveted page next to her introduction.
                                    

 I did a superb job for my sister.  I took the trouble to draw lines in pencil to keep my writing straight.  I even underlined little red curves under each sentence .

But I drew the line at schmucky words like 'dearest sister' and 'your loving sister'.  You see, I was 10 years old then and I was already a tough cookie.

I had picked a hard-hitting caution about erring.

 This was also because I knew I needed a lot of forgiving for my many misdeeds.  There was the time when I sewed holes into my sister's leaflet from Crescent Girls 'School regarding the pattern for her school uniform.  That left her in tears .  And so did I from the whacking my mother gave me.

As for that eight year old rascal Mus,  his pome was a scream!  It left me with tears ...... of laughter.


I reckoned he was told what to write, how to write and he even succumbed to the salutation of  "Your Loving Brother".  But  one can easily tell that this was a last-minute instruction because the writing went wonky.

Also he did not complete the last 'e' for coffee.  It must be because of the call from his mates to sneak away for a swim at Pasir Panjang seaside .  Oh yes!  He thought he could hide that from our mother.  But she discovered sand in the pockets of his trousers and he was left with nowhere to hide.

She threatened to tie him - naked - to the coconut tree  in front of  our house.  We were all subjected to the same intimidation.  But that coconut tree never had that joy!!

Our late Akim was just five in 1954.  When we were all away at school, he spent most of his lonely time carrying and cuddling  our  family cat.

Akim also loved inspecting the crevices in the walls and on the cement floor -  near our water tank- for creepy crawlies like ants, beetles and other tiny insects .  He did not touch or hurt them.  He simply followed their movement with his little fingers.

I remembered this because I was his 'baby' sitter and minder from that age till the day he passed away in 1982.

As for this contribution, did Akim actually write this mushy tosh?

Was there a phantom writer?  After all this snotty kid was just five.  How could his handwriting be better than Mus's and mine?  His command of the English language was limited to repeating the last word  in sentences that Mus read from his 'Old Lob ' book.  Whenever Mus read "This is Old Lob', you can hear the echo of 'Lob' from Akim.  Also words like Mr Grumps, Miss Tibs, Mr. Dan and Percy the Chick reverberated about our dining-study table whenever Mus was told to read  his book.

Akim's favourite song then was "Amapola"



I shall never forget his sweet rendition of the one-word lyric 'poppy' from the line  "Amapola, my pretty little poppy'.


HERE THEY ARE - looking  like butter won't melt in their mouths..........

From the left:  a cussed-looking Mus,  sweet shy Akim,  pretty Maznah and nerdy me.

Thank you and bless you 'Nah for looking after these two precious books all these years and for allowing me  to publicise the contents for my blog.

Sometimes we need to be prodded to remember with gratitude our happy childhood and our wonderful parents.  This is not just sentimental nostalgia.  This is all about what we are now - warts and all.


BUT I LEAVE THE BEST TO LAST.

This was created for Maznah by Pa'cik Agus.  And the message can also be applied to all for all time.


This is our father's  colleague and good friend from Sumatra who's also a poet and artist.  Thank you Pa'cik Agus for the reflection of the light from your mirror.