13th May: A survivor's point of view.

I know i never write on something like this, but what the heck.

I just returned from my grandmother's. she lives in a flat. when we arrived there, there were people everywhere downstairs and there were police. i asked one of the neighbours what had happened. she told me somebody hanged himself. it was a total shocker but the tragic part is yet to come.

I tried valiantly to cover my young sisters' eyes and ears as we went up to my grandmother's house. It was a waste because once we got up there, my grandmother told us that that someone who hanged himself was a 10 year-old boy. apparently he was fooling around with a rope and well.. i'll leave that as that.

Anyway, i chatted with my grandma after that. she asked whether i remembered that today was 13th of May. I said i do remember but i don't quite know what actually happened. For the people who are totally oblivious about what happened on this date, here's a dummies guide to 13th May.

13th May 1969 will always be remembered by all Malaysian as the bloody dot in their calender. and i mean it literally. there was a clash between two races and it got ugly. what i know was that it started in Kuala Lumpur and that spread. people were fighting with firearms and parangs and all sorts of weapons. A lot of people died that day. They say one of the reasons for it to start was the fact that the Chinese were monopolising the economy and the Malays couldn't quite settle with the idea. Some claim it to be part of a conspiracy and some other exterior motives. I guess if you put it that way, conspiracies are everywhere and we can't really trust anybody can we?

Anywho, my grandma's version was a lot more interesting to listen to.

It started off in Penang with an old man walking back from a surau. He went through Kampung Pulau at night, after Isya' prayers i guess and stumbled upon a chinese man selling kuihs. Kampung Pulau is a place where the majority of the chinese lived. It was dark and he couldn't see and when he accidentally hit the chinese man, the food fell off the motorcycle and supposedly, he hit the old man over and over again. Grandma told me there was a paint shop nearby and the old man was beaten using the paint can of which he died.

The story continues when the Malays from Jelutong heard of the news, obviously they weren't satisfied. They went to Kampung Pulau and picked a fight. BOOM! People came from everywhere and was fighting of which spread to KL.

She told me that that day was scary and it brought back memories from the WW2. The Emergency period was declared and there were curfews all the time. They had to stay in the house after dark and switch off all lights. they were only allowed out at about 6am to go to the market and buy their groceries and the market will close again at about noon. No one dared to sleep at all fearing for their lives. Grandma told me they dared not fall asleep because they are too afraid that someone might break into the house and slaughter them.

Police and FRU officers were everywhere. They would shoot at anyone who came out after the curfew. An emergency crew was placed in the suraus and masjids to give warning and to ask the people to evacuate their homes and go to the nearest surau or masjid if anything were to go even bad.

People were coming from everywhere with their parangs and guns. the police guarded the roads and houses, but they found another route to attack- from the sea. Luckily someone saw them and reported to the police. Grandma said God wanted to help the people if not the people in Jelutong would have been burnt to the ground. Another interesting part of her story was the way they chased away the chinese people. Supposedly the malays engaged a bomoh to make the chinese see flying parangs of which scared them away. I'm not claiming this to be true, but hey, who knows right?

It's really different when you hear the same story from a different point of view. Sometimes, the story will become livelier or if your unlucky, it will become dull. as for me, the 13th May story for me has always been about politics and propagandas and conspiracy theories. hearing my grandmother's side of the story was a change. It added colours to the history eventhough 13th May will always be in the colour red.

There's nothing political about this post. I just wanted to share a story told by a survivor. I mean, It's history after all right? The only thing that i can hope for is that the bloody past won't come back and haunt our future.

Oh, another historical movie i watched today was 'The boy in the stripped pyjamas'. It reminded me so much of the 'Kite Runner' where innocence loses to power. It shows how stupidity and ego can overpower the truth and purity that comes with innocence. It's good. You should really check it out. :)