So that I Will remember

 

I have misplaced my glasses many times ever since I needed one. I have misplaced them so many times in a week that my wife begged with me to get one of those neck strap thing for my glasses as to do way with my almost daily questions as to whether she had seen my glasses. But pride prevailed. Though my body ached all over in the morning and rare strands of white are slowly creeping into my black head of hair and I have to spend some time looking for my glasses everyday, I am adamant that I am not of that age bracket. Hell no. Until the day I am offered senior discounts, I will maintain the delusion of time having no mastery over me.

Like my glasses, same goes with things that I encounter. I have learned that what is not written down will be lost or forgotten. That saying of Madey about Malays came to mind. The practice of stories, traditions, laws and customs being passed down from orally from one generation to another is dying out. One might say that written records have somewhat robbed the magic out of oral story telling aspect of memory and records but such is the way of the world. One things perishes and another will take its place. Now, physical books are slowly being complemented with e-books and yet we are still not a society of readers, but that is a matter for another day. Anyhow, point is, write it down or you are liable to forget the damned thing you are supposed to remember. What you jot down, you can see. What you can see, you can retain better in your mind.

I thought that my love of typing things (and making things up) to be no more than a youthful indulgence, a passing fad for many blogs of my contemporary during university days have lain fallow after the late 2010s when most of us joined the working world but time showed otherwise. I am now required to treat writing as an occupational hazard though it be in terse legalese and of the truth and nothing but the truth. Maybe, when I can carve out the time I will be able to type/make things up again for fun (and for a bit of profit). Not in court of course and not here, in this blog.

Unlike its many predecessors lost in the Void, the purpose of this blog is for me to write down what I have discovered throughout my practice as long as I am in practice. More or less- lah. If I do write about family and the human things which I will from time to time it is because I wanted to remind myself the reason why I am in legal practice to begin with. So bear with me.

Another reason I started this blog also is because some time ago in the course of a conversation that began in a clear late afternoon and ended in the dim twilight where you can barely see each other’s face in the murk, a guru of mine suggested to me to get typing again as the means to let off the excess angst and steam of litigation practice in a healthy way. It works, to certain extent.

While I cuss and indulge in profanities (which is one way of looking at it) in my stuff here from time to time, I choose to look at it as putting extra emphasis to certain points I am making. I am after all letting some steam and trying to record things at the same time.

I write in both Malay and English because my Malay is mostly in bahasa pasar which could do with refinement and my English could do with an improvement in terms of clarity and quality. Maybe not King’s English material but something pleasant to the ears and eyes at the very least.

That got me thinking.

If King’s English is the yardstick of the correct and pure version of English then what is the Malay version of it? Agong’s Malay? If so which Agong? I mean we have words like Bajet which is the shameless phonetic copy of the word ‘’budget’’. The word Bajet was previously used by my schoolmates to refer to the act of being stingy with your lunch or goodies or what ever you have on hand.

Eg:

- Weh, sikit roti kau

-Tak boleh.

-Ek eleh, bajet betul kau ni

I’d like to think perhaps one of them have risen high in the world, into the Parliament itself even, to have made the word bajet on the lips of every politicians every year. That would be something.

Anyway, I hope this blog to be the online reference point for my future self as long as the servers are up and running. So that if my memory fails me earlier than expected, it would be a repository of my practicing life. Perhaps my sons would come across it one day, cackling and hooting in laughter at my discoveries and my many attempts to impose order to chaos that is my life as a practitioner.

If my conclusions are wrong, correct me. If you find it useful, good for you. Mine is about the basic stuff. Nothing fancy or in depth as I find most blogs or stuff written by older and more experienced lawyers. Mine is about the kind of things (not strictly about legal practice) you would be afraid to ask your boss or bosses for fear of being seen as less manly or not as bright as previously thought of. If you think what I write about is shit, then it is on you who are reading this to write something better and far more interesting.

In a way this blog is that neck strap thing, but for my practice (mainly). There are after all limits to my (many) delusions.

On Hope. Its abundance or (perceived) lack thereof.

 

Aku seorang yang pesimistik. Tapi itu tidak bermakna aku hanya nampak hari mendung kelabu sepanjang masa. Aku masih percaya lepas mendung, hujan atau ribut selagi ditakdirkan Matahari akan kembali keluar menyinari alam. Cuma aku kemana-mana dengan kebersediaan untuk menempuh hujan (baju cepat kering, beg dan sandal yang kalis air, payung.. Itu mengingatkan aku untuk beli payung baru. Payung lama dipinjam tak dipulang. Cilaka), kalau perlu. Aku adalah Bert bilamana sebahagian lain populasi dunia adalah Ernie yang girang tanpa risau dan aku perasan bahawa makin meningkat umur semakin grumpy aku dibuatnya. I mean is that even natural? To be expected?

Ok, aku mungkin conflatekan keadaan grumpy dengan pessimistic. Tapi pohon bertahan dengan aku.

Aku pernah terbaca satu temubual diantara penulis siri The Witcher, Andrzej Sapkowksi (sebut sekali dengan aku: Ann-jeyy Sap-kov-ski) dengan satu publikasi yang aku tidak ingat namanya. Bila ditanyakan apa yang beliau harapkan dari adaptasi Witcher di Netflix, Andrzej jawab: Life is, basically, fucking shit. Best to keep your expectations low. Maybe you’ll be pleasantly surprised.

Berdekah gelak aku baca jawapan Andrzej. It fits. Satu, Netflix memang dikenali dengan perangai menjahanamkan cerita bagus dengan agenda woke tak bertempatnya. Keduanya, dalam dunia The Witcher, watak utamanya Geralt of Rivia memang satu watak yang world weary, pesimis pun ya juga. Macam mana tak pesimis. Beliau adalah saki baki golongan mutan yang diberikan tugas murni untuk melawan raksasa-raksasa cerita rakyat Slavic tapi sayangnya, dicemuh dan dibenci golongan manusia yang dilindunginya itu. Magis pula dikuasai golongan tamak kuasa yang cuba mempengaruh raja dan permaisuri negeri-negeri yang selesa bergembira atas takhta masing-masing. Kaum bukan manusia penduduk asal tanah pula ditindas, dibunuh. Pada masa yang sama, nun di kejauhan di negeri Nilfgaard bibit-bibit perperangan sedang disemai (pada awal buku/game lah). Senang kata hidup rakyat kebanyakkan dalam dunia yang diperintah raja dan ahli magis tamak adalah poor, short and brutish. Kecuali Geralt dan rakan-rakan. Geralt dan rakan-rakan ada plot armour. Mungkin akan lunyai dibantai tapi takkan mati selagi belum tamat siri.  Tapi setebal mana pun plot armour Geralt, ianya tak tebal di bahagian hati. Disebalik gaya sinis dan tak berperasaan, Geralt ada sense of right and wrong. Ini jelas bila Geralt masih lagi mencari si Ciri walaupun Cintra dan istananya telah jatuh ke tangan tentera Nilfgard kalau ikutkan boleh sahaja dia lupakan segalanya atau beri alasan ; istana dah jatuh mesti Ciri dah mati dibunuh dan teruskan hidup memburu raksasa demi duit dan minuman dan perempuan. Tetapi tak. Geralt si rambut putih ini masih memasang harapan yang Ciri masih hidup.

Sama seperti watak John Stone yang dilakonkan oleh John Turturro dalam siri terhad HBO, The Night Of. Beliau adalah peguambela yang juga world weary, rutinnya adalah untuk singgah dari balai polis ke balai polis demi mendapat kes-kes tangkapan baru (touting). Pendek cerita, John adalah bottom feeder yang putus harapan dengan diri sendiri untuk buat kerja selain touting di balai-balai dan membuat kes-kes pengakuan bersalah hingga bila dituduh sebagai seorang red kerana percayakan penjenayah masih ada hak untuk diwakili peguam oleh polis yang sedang bertugas dia buat bodoh sahaja. Semangat beliau yang sebelum ini pudar dek selama ini bergelumang dengan penjenayah yang ingin dilepaskan atas sebab teknikaliti datang kembali bila berdepan dengan anak guam yang betul-betul tidak bersalah iaitu Naz, anak pemandu teksi yang dituduh membunuh seorang gadis di rumah gadis tersebut. John sudah keluar dari balai, bersedia untuk balik bila dia teringat pada Naz si pemuda nampak datang dari Timur Tengah sedang dalam tahanan system kehakiman jenayah Amerika pasca 9/11. Dia patah balik dan masuk semula ke balai kerana harapkan dia boleh make a difference untuk Naz.

Untuk kejelasan aku bukan world weary. Aku belum cukup lama mengenal dunia untuk ada perasaan sedemikian rupa. Just plain weary and grumpy.  Ini bukan satu aduan. Cuma satu kenyataan fakta. Boleh jadi juga kerana aku menaip ini dengan keadaan tak cukup tidur. Aku perasan yang kau lebih cekal, lebih positif bila kau cukup tidur.

Kembali kepada Andrzej Sapkowski dan tanggapan beliau mengenai Netflix dan kehidupan. Aku setuju dengan pendapat beliau. Harapan boleh jadi tingkap-tingkap kepada kekecewaan tapi kalau kau tak buka tingkap, tak dapat udara segar. 

Fakta Andrej ada beri kebenaran untuk Netflix membuat adaptasi hasil kerja beliau menunjukkan Andrzej ada memasang harapan untuk satu adaptasi yang tulus dan mengikut tulisannya akan dihasilkan oleh Netflix. Sama ada Netflix berjaya atau tak, aku tak pasti.

Pokoknya, perlu ada harapan tapi tak boleh banyak sangat. Kerana bila banyak sangat takut kau lupa untuk berpijak pada bumi yang nyata. Tak ada harapan pula akan buat kau murung, rasa nak buat benda merepek yang mempunyai kesan muktamad. Jadi aku kira satu imbangan perlu dicapai di antara terlalu berharap dengan terus berhenti berharap. Jadi tingkap-tingkap itu perlu dikuak buka tapi jangan besar sangat. Nanti nyamuk masuk, takpun tempias hujan.

Itu pada aku lah. Aku mungkin salah.

Si stoic-stoic lama ada memberi buah fikiran berguna berkenaan harapan. Ada seorang aku tak ingat siapa yang kata unexpected blows from Fortune lands heavier, yang aku kira adalah cara lain untuk mengatakan bahawa adalah, expect the worst. Jauh lebih baik untuk menerima kejutan yang menyedapkan hati, yang buat kau tergelak, senyum melebar daripada meletakkan harapan tinggi yang bila tak jadi, tak tercapai membuatkan kau rasa kecewa tak sudah.

 

Boleh jadi juga meletakkan harapan pada perkara yang berada diluar kawalan kau pun boleh membuatkan kau kecewa atau mudah kecewa. Iyalah, bukan semua benda kau ada kawalan. Sebagai contoh siapa Mak Bapak kau, kaum kau, jodoh kau, negeri mana kau di lahirkan, keputusan kes kau, dekat mana dan bagaimana kau mati. Benda-benda macam tu memang luar kawalan kau. Benda yang kau boleh kawal; siapa kawan-kawan kau, apa kau makan pagi ini, berapa batang rokok kau hisap hari ini, macam mana kau membuat persediaan untuk kes kau, macam mana kau pilih untuk hidup dan lain-lain perkara. Tak banyak tapi cukup untuk bagi kau sense of control. Cukup untuk buat kau rasa bertanggungjawab atas hidup kau sendiri.

Harapan ini memang terang-terangan jatuh bawah senarai perkara yang kau boleh kawal. Kau tak boleh kawal Tuah, Takdir tapi kau boleh kawal kebergantungan emosi kau pada Tuah, Takdir atau apa-apa terma yang kau nak pakai.  

Nak pasang harapan boleh tapi harapan itu perlu disemat selepas usaha sehabis baik dan juga dengan persediaan andaian apa yang tak diharap itu tak menjadi. Tak guna pasang harapan kalau tak ada usaha. Kalau kau percaya, berdoa selepas segala usaha. Itu usaha terakhir. Itu senjata kau. Terutamanya sewaktu hujan.   

Akan sentiasa ada harapan selagi ada ujian sebagaimana akan sentiasa ada hujan selagi ada matahari terik di Malaysia ini. Itu adalah hukum alam. Kadang-kadang kau tempuh hujan keseorangan, mencicit berlari ke kereta. Kadang-kadang kau jalan selamba dalam hujan lebat sebab pada waktu itu tak ada apa yang boleh sakiti kau apatah lagi hujan lebat. Kadang-kadang bila tak dijangka ada yang hulur payung bersaiz jumbo pada kau ajak jalan tempuh hujan sama-sama ke kereta. Kadang-kadang ada juga yang gila dan ajak kau berlari main hujan sama-sama.

 

Jangan dilupa juga, lepas hujan lebat jugalah tumbuh mekar segala jenis tumbuhan. Termasuklah cendawan busut. 

Cendawan busut sedap kalau buat kari. 

 

Honesty

 

Diogenes si filusuf gelandangan pernah dikatakan berjalan-jalan di sekitar bandar Athens (tak silap aku lah) dengan membawa pelita pada waktu tengah hari buta dan menyuluh ke muka setiap orang yang dia jumpa. Bila ditanyakan kerja gila apa lagi yang sedang dibuat, beliau cuma membalas: Aku tengah mencari orang yang jujur.

 

Aku boleh bayangkan berapa banyak boo si Diogenes ni kena dengan jawapan sebegitu. Mungkin kena baling selipar pun ya jugak. Yelah, patutnya jujur itu factory setting kita tapi sebenarnya tidak. Umat manusia ni tak berapa pandai nak menilai kejujuran sebab default mode kita adalah untuk menipu dan buat cerita. Jadi kita semua sebenarnya nak sangat untuk percaya apa yang orang lain katakan tapi pada masa yang sama kita sangat berhati-hati sebab kita memang dilahirkan sebagai penipu. 

Satu benda yang aku perasan dan aku rasa kau pun perasan adalah cerita rakyat dan mitos selalu mengagung-agungkan si kaki putar. Prometheus, Loki, Sang Kancil. Kesemuanya kaki belit, trickster figure yang mana bila lawannya ditewaskan dengan helah/tipudaya kita pun bertepuk tangan sebab hero menang kerana menggunakan akal bergeliga.

 

Berapa banyak kali si Harimau kena tipu dengan Sang Kancil sampai kena belit dengan Tedung, bengkak bengkil kena sengat dengan tebuan tapi kita buat pengecualian bagi kes-kes ni sebagai penggunaan akal yang awsome. Tapi masa kecik-kecik dulu juga kita selalu dipesan mak bapak supaya sentiasa bercakap benar. Kena jujur. Jangan membohong. Siakap senohong ikan buntal ikan duri, bercakap bohong lama lama mencuri. Cerita rakyat cakap satu benda, mak bapak dan pepatah lama pulak cakap sebaliknya. Hairan kan? Bila kejujuran itu bukan default mode manusia, tak berapa nak menghairankan.

 

Liar Liar iaitu filem era 90’an yang dibintangi Jim Carey mempunyai sebagai premis utamanya stereotaip biasa peguam; tak boleh dipercayai, kaki putar dan lain-lain sebelum beliau akhirnya insaf dan cuba untuk bercakap benar demi tidak dipisahkan daripada anak lelakinya.

 

Side note: Dalam Mahkamah hanya saksi yang memberi keterangan yang akan mengangkat sumpah untuk berkata benar. Padahal Hakim dan peguam juga manusia macam para saksi yang mempunyai kebarangkalian sama untuk mempunyai definisi longgar tentang apa yang dimaksudkan dengan berkata benar. Itu kalau minda pesimistik aku yang berkata-kata lah. Ke sebenarnya sebab peguam-peguam dan Hakim itu umpama tukul dan andas (anvil) yang membentuk keterangan saksi hingga akhirnya betul salah, apa yang diterima sebagai kebenaran di dalam sesebuah kes itu diputuskan umpama pandai besi membentuk besi merah membara hingga akhirnya menjadi parang atau keris, sebab tu peguam dan Hakim tak perlu angkat sumpah.

Aku rasa lah.

 

Kembali ke Liar Liar, ok lah, walaupun ada tokok tambah Hollywood tapi itu tidak bermakna itu bukan anggapan sebenar orang awam. Pandangan awam selalunya adalah asal peguam je kaki putar, kaki tipu. Padahal dalam Practice and Etiquette Rules tu tanggungjawab pengamal untuk berlaku jujur dan berterus terang ada diulang-ulang sekurang-kurangnya empat (4) kali untuk bermacam situasi. Seolah-olah nak mengingatkan pengamal yang memang senang nak tergelincir dari landasan yang sepatutnya kalau pengamal dah mula cakap main sembur, tak kira betul atau tidak. Memang ada la pengamal yang kaki scam, kaki kencing ni tapi itu mungkin segmen kecil, tak mewakili kesemua pengamal yang lain. Mereka ni mungkin lupa pasal Practice & Etiquette Rules. Aku pun lupa dan terus lupa kalau bukan sebab jumpa yang mengingatkan.

 

Kejujuran ni kalau bukan peguam pun memang patut ada dalam diri setiap orang, memang dari kecil lagi mak bapak dah ajar tapi bila kau ada Sijil Amalan dan sarung suit hitam-putih kejujuran tu seumpama jadi optional tak kisahlah apa alasan yang kau ada. Itu pengamatan aku. Boleh jadi pengamatan aku sedikit sebanyak dicemari dengan tanggapan orang ramai lah. Boleh jadi juga aku terlalu banyak berurusan/bercampur dengan douchebags sampai kadang-kadang ada juga tertanya-tanya adakah aku juga seorang douchebag sebab aku tak pasti.

 

Anyway, nampak ada disconnect diantara realiti dan idea. Kejujuran dalam setiap perbuatan dan tindakan seorang peguam itu memang sentiasa ditekankan. Fair dealing and honesty and all that cal tapi, sejujurnya, siapa yang boleh betul-betul kata dia jujur dan kekal jujur pada setiap masa?

 

Aku bagi contoh mudah. Ingat bahawa sebagai pegawai Mahkamah kau ada tanggungjawab untuk memaklumkan Mahkamah kepada sebarang perubahan kepada undang-undang atau provisi yang kau ketahui (Rule 20, Practice and Etiquette Rules 1976). Berapa ramai peguam yang terjumpa akan satu kes terbaru yang mengikat Mahkamah dan tak berpihak pada hujahan kau akan membawa kes tersebut ke perhatian Mahkamah? Tambah pulak kalau kes tu tak sampai ke perhatian Mahkamah kau boleh menang. Aku pun tak berani nak cakap kalau aku dalam situasi tu apa yang akan aku buat sebab aku faham kadang-kadang keinginan nak menang tu membuak-buak.

 

Lagi satu contoh, kau nak membuat permohonan untuk injunksi tapi ada beberapa fakta material yang tak berpihak pada kau. Jadi kau tak sebut pun pasal fakta-fakta yang tidak berpihak pada kau itu. Alasannya, kau tak tipu, kau cuma tak beritau. Padahal kau tau Aturan 29 Kaedah 1(2A)(e) Kaedah-Kaedah Mahkamah 2012 ada cakap yang kau kena maklumkan pada mahkamah semua fakta yang mungkin membuatkan Mahkamah tidak membenarkan permohonan injunksi kau itu. Tapi kau buat senyap, tak beritahu sebab kau nak menang. Keji sungguh kau ini.

 

Itu kalau peguam lah.

 

Lagi satu contoh, yang ni untuk lelaki yang dah beristeri.

 

Tengah tengok movie dengan isteri. Cerita Bladerunner 2049. Sampai babak Ana de Armas di skrin isteri tanya dia cantik ke Ana de Armas lagi cantik? Aci potong jari kau akan cakap isteri kau lagi cantik (tak pun buat-buat tertido). Sebab jelas lagi bersuluh itu soalan perangkap, peluang untuk kau jaga hati isteri, untuk validate kedudukan dia dalam dimata kau (tolak tepi risiko tidur luar rumah kalau salah jawab). Tapi itu tak mengubah fakta yang kau tak beri jawapan sebenar, melainkan isteri kau memang lagi cantik dari Ana de Armas. Yelah, kau boleh agak apa akan jadi kalau kau bagi jawapan selain dari apa yang dia harapkan. Isteri kecik hati, tarik muka, merajuk nak dipujuk dan bermacam kebarangkalian lain yang boleh kau elak kalau kau bohong sunat. Semuanya demi menjaga keharmonian rumah tangga.

 Sebab tu kau takkan tanya dengan isteri kau Ryan Gosling handsome ke tak. Tak nak panjang cerita. 

 

Jadi kenapa kita tak berlaku jujur?

Mungkin memang ada dalam survival trait kita, telah dikodkan dalam otak cicak primitif kita untuk mengekalkan apa yang sedia ada dan kalau boleh untuk mendapatkan kelebihan supaya kebarangkalian kita dan spesis kita akan kekal hidup dan selamat. Kalau bercakap benar ada kebarangkalian apa yang kita ada akan berkurang tapi kalau kau pusing, tai chi, kencing mungkin kau boleh kekalkan apa yang kau ada atau boleh jadi juga apa yang kau ada tu akan bertambah. Jadi kenapa pulak kita nak berlaku jujur kalau menipu itu akan memberikan kau kelebihan? Adakah sebab kita ada akal? Dan akal itu mengenal baik dan buruk? Atau adakah itu hati nurani kita switched on? Boleh jadi. Aku pun tak tau. Aku main agak je ni.

 

Bila aku menulis pasal kejujuran ini aku sendiri makin lama makin keliru. Jujur, bohong jaga hati, harmoni. Tolak tepi religious injunction, nampak berlaku jujur itu nampaknya harus dan optional pada masa yang sama. Kalau kau cakap isteri kau lagi cantik dari (masukkan nama perempuan cantik disini) dia senyum padahal dia tau je kau tipu. Bila dia tanya ada perempuan lain ke tak dan kau cakap takde (sebenarnya ada) dia tau je kau bohong tapi kenapa reaksinya berbeza. Walhal, kedua-duanya tak betul. Nampak seperti kebenaran dan kejujuran tu ada banyak degree dia macam Masonic Lodge. Bohong kepada mahkamah satu kesalahan boleh kena penjara. Bohong sunat jaga hati isteri walaupun salah semua suami akan buat. Tipulah kalau kau pun tak buat. Semuanya sebahagian dari keadaan manusia atas Bumi sebab kita mahkluk yang hidup bermasyarakat. Mana tah tadi aku baca yang cakap lying is a social lubricant. But how much is too much? Again, the degrees of honesty.

 

Ke sebenarnya kita semua tak sanggup nak terima kebenaran. Kebenaran kan menyakitkan, membebaskan tapi menyakitkan. Sebab itu kita ajar anak-anak untuk bercakap benar tapi bila makin dewasa dan makin bergaul kita sedari bahawa masyarakat dengan norma dan political correctness dan segala maknenek alasan membuatkan bercakap benar itu nampak makin lama makin optional, tak kira lah apa alasan kau (jaga hati, bersopan santun, diplomatik, whatever).

 

Jadi bila difikirkan semula Diogenes bukanlah segila yang kita sangka. Ada point yang dia cuba sampaikan. Kalau tengah hari buta pun masih menyuluh mencari maknanya memang susah nak jumpa benda yang dicari tu.  Susah, tapi tak bermakna tak ada.  That one truly honest man.

 

 

 

 

 

Nota:

 

Rule 20. Advocate and solicitor to put before Court any relevant binding decision.

(a) An advocate and solicitor shall put before the Court any relevant, binding decision of which he is aware which is immediately in point, whether it be for or against his contention.

 

(b) This rule applies with particular importance in ex-parte proceedings.

 

 

Rule 21. Improper to misquote.

It is improper for an advocate and solicitor-

 

(a) knowingly to misquote the contents of a paper, the testimony of a witness, the argument of opposing counsel or the language of a decision or textbook; or

 

(b) with knowledge of its invalidity, to cite as authority a decision that has been overruled or a statute that has been repealed; or

 

(c) in argument, to assert as a fact that which has not been proved; or

 

(d) to mislead his opponent by concealing or withholding in his opening speech positions upon which he intends to rely.

 

Rule 17. No deception on Court.

An advocate and solicitor shall not practice any deception on the Court.

 

Rule 18. Advocate and solicitor to conduct with condour, courtesy and fairness.

The conduct of an advocate and solicitor before the Court and in relation to other advocates and solicitors shall be characterised by candour, courtesy and fairness.

My Ideal Office

I have my own room  at the office where I am currently practicing at but it is more of a storage area. I’d have my books and files in the room, my desktop computer if I need to do my work. Most of the administrative related work would be done there but not actual legal work. Most of the time I did my thinking and drafting and non-admin work elsewhere out of the office. But if I am particularly tired and still need access to my books, I would lug the books that I need from my room to one of the meeting room where there are windows. I would open one just to listen to the hustle and bustle of the road next to my building while I work and to let the cigarette smoke out. Occasionally I would peer out of them to the City outside. Watch people go about their business while I try to coax my brains into thinking. Them old grey matter would take a bit of time to warm up. When I really need to think without any interruptions, I would do my work out of the office entirely.

 

Before the Boycott and pre Covid I would work out of a Starbucks at the Curve. Sit at a secluded table with a hot chocolate and just get down to work for hours. I could work out of PJ’s historic A&W, a random mamak, a neighbourhood surau, Palace of Justice’s library, the Bar room at court complexes. Whether hours long sessions or in snatches. Anywhere but the office so long it has roof and power socket. I feel boxed in both physically and mentally at the office. I would be like a horse chomping at the bits. Restless for wide open space for me to stretch my legs. The ambient noise of an office is too distracting for me. The hum of the air conditioning,  phones ringing, the sound a photocopier, the clackety clack of the lawyer next door typing furiously on the keyboard, footsteps of people going to and fro outside my room. Too loud. Too distracting. 

 

Right now there are renovations going on in the unit above me beginning sometime before 5pm (sometimes earlier) until 10pm. With all the drilling and hammering of God knows what upstairs it is impossible to concentrate let alone hold a thought. I told myself at least I know it is actual proper human being making the noise and not some supernatural entity moving furniture around or pounding something in their mortar and pestle (probably the makings of some otherworldly sambal belacan).

 

For me there must be a right balance between ambient noise and silence to allow me to be productive with my work. Too silent and it is an invitation to nap. Too loud and it is a major distraction. I find that of all the places I have worked out of eateries would have the balance of noise and silence just right. Hence my preference for them.

What about professionalism you ask? What about it?  So long as I produce cause papers to be filed in court, could appear in court properly attired and prepared for my case why does it matter where I do my work? Most of lawyer’s work are done behind the scenes anyway. Away from the eyes of the clients. The oral submissions and trials are the only ones that the client would really see.  Besides, when I work outside of the office I don’t have a plaque on the table saying: Lawyer at work do not disturb. I don’t lug the whole case file around, I don’t have to. Everything is online. I want to do my work not make a Tik-Tok video out of it. All an observer would see would be me typing away on my laptop or staring into nothing ruminating on something. I would be one of many people typing something up on their laptops. Besides, if I am thirsty or particularly peckish the ane is but one wave away or the drinks counter would not be too far away. If confidentiality is a concern, I work at a cubicle or table that gives me optimum privacy or in a corner with my back to the wall and use my own internet connection. That ought to be enough to safeguard confidentiality.

 

When situation calls for it, usually when I am co-counseling for a friend, I would do my work at their office. A few years ago I was like doctors making house calls. I would rotate between two to three offices, all my friends who are in constant need of a counsel. Most of the time their offices would be a smoker friendly premise where one could and would light up at will. Just like the olden days I suppose. When hungry we ate. Take outs or at the restaurant nearby. When tired we would take a break. Breaks would consist of throwing ideas in between small talks while cigarette smoke would hang above and around us like thought bubbles. No such thing as being stock still when I work with friends. I would walk around, peer at windows, stare at walls. All to get the juices flowing and fingers typing later on. But whether it is out of office or at friend’s the idea remains the same. Variety, not familiarity that aids my thinking process.

 

That is the usual set up for me. It works for me but not my dream working environment I have in mind.

 

The ideal office for me would have two important characteristics. It would need to have wheels and ought to be self-propelled. A touring bus is for rock artistes and football clubs, a car is too small. The ideal size would be an MPV or a cargo van converted into a mobile office. A Ford or a Maxus side panel van would be best. Man, a Maxus side panel van is just sexy. In my eyes at least. Inside would be my office. Doesn’t have to be a moving castle. Just enough for me to function as human being and legal practitioner. There would be a foldable work station flush against one side and chair also foldable when not in use, a bookshelf overhead for all my reference books within easy reach, stationery and stamps, an All-in-One printer and copier/scanner running on batteries (Canon or HP. With HP’s ink based buggery, I lean more towards Canon). Change of clothes, toiletries, an extra suit or two. Mini fridge if you are pushing it and most importantly, hooks. One behind the driver’s seat and another on either rear corner of the van or MPV for me to sling my hammock whenever I need to sleep or need to power down for a while.

 

With wheels this mobile office would have the freedom to roam the courts and allow me work at will. Kuantan today, Klang tomorrow. Roam the courts from Perlis to Johor. Maybe stop by a river or lake for a picnic or a quiet hour or two of fishing or of just plain enjoying the scenery. Inhale the clear out of town air. Go to rest area or petrol station for calls (the other kind) and stuff. Just keep driving and attending court whenever and wherever. That kind of thing.

 

It is not an original idea I admit, but I warmed up to the idea after having to travel here and there back when my MOB gig was still going on and I discovered that I enjoyed the long drives. There is something about being in between places that appeals to me. I probably had a Mongol ancestor way back. The need to be constantly on the move is in my blood. What I lack in horses I made up with horsepower. No horse blood for me, sirap ais will slake my thirst. No yurt for me, a hammock will do just fine. So long as I am on the move (that is, if I am not stuck in a traffic jam) I am free. Being on the road means freedom and I value freedom above all else.

 

Maybe I’ll put idea to practice once my boys are finally done with school and awaiting tertiary stage and get them to drive me around for a while. It’ll be a road trip for the boys.

 

That’s my idea of an ideal office.

Who are you?

 

and what do you do is often the lead up question to the primary question that could be what is your name or anak/cucu sapa ni? Usually the latter is only asked during kenduris and family functions by a very senior member of the extended family. As it is, both are just the normal questions we ask to define and categorize people we meet into neat little boxes and we all just play along. One of those all too human trait I guess.

 

The lone wolf types are an anomaly. Not the general rule. We are meant to be social animals. Hence, the need to belong, the yearning to be part of a tribe to define yourself and your place in society. I guess we go through that at every stage of our lives. From kindergarten until the day we die. Oh the things we do to just to be a part of something bigger.

 

I was not spared the same. During secondary school it was the time of a heady mix of subcultures. Skaters, Hip-Hoppers, Punks and Skinheads. You name it. I was not into overly baggy pants and I was too lazy to find myself a decent skateboard and learn to skate. While I do enjoy a bit of Rancid (even today) the Mohawk hairdo was simply too outlandish for me and it would probably would give my dear old Grandmaster a heart attack. What I do have was a hand me down safety boots from me dad (Not Doc Marten), the desire to find a backbreaking work post SPM to be part of the working class and a cheap crew cut. The suspenders would only come years and years later.  But as it was then I became a half-baked skinhead, that was until I finished reading the Skinhead’s Bible. When I finally did, I could answer proudly answer yes to the question; kau ada knowledge tak?

 

Man, the things I do just to fit in. But I never did. I still stuck out like a sore thumb. I am the proverbial square peg. At least I think so. That is my lot in life. To be an outsider looking in. I don’t mind it anymore.

 

There is no reason for me to dwell on the gender aspect of identity. Suffice to say that I am comfortable with the gender I was born into. Somethings you have a say in, somethings you do not. I guess there is a reason for Men to have fragile things hanging down there. They are meant to be both a reminder of the heavy responsibilities of a Man and of how low a Man can go if he were to do his thinking with them. To be rid of them for whatever reason or to deny their existence is to reject those responsibilities the universe has entrusted to you. But if that defines you, hey. You go, you.

  

Call it a mother’s foresight or what you will but it was my mother, not me who started me on my path towards the Law. ‘’Suka membaca kan? Pi buat Law’’ she more or less said a long time ago. So I went to law school and graduated. With hopes of at most being a drafter at the Attorney General Chambers dotting the I’s and crossing the T’s of statutes. A safe role. Punch in, do my job, punch out. Repeat until retirement, or so I thought at that time. If left to myself I would rather be a brown Indiana Jones, robbing tombs and booby trapped caves for museums. Either that or do something to do with books or writing. I can be accused of lacking in ambition. I don’t mind. I’d rather be left alone in my corner of the world to do what I like to do. Then I found general litigation.

I began my first year of practice doing debt recovery work. Attending court to obtain JID’s and such at court before E-Review was implemented. All mundane work. Contested debt recovery files were rare. Even when I was a pupil my pupil master was a practitioner in the banking and debt recovery section. I used to be asked to serve Notice of Demands and take pictures of the property I had served the NOD at, for Feasibility Studies purposes I was told. After office hours I would be going through drafts of Proclamation of Sale all the while the General Litigation team would have their brain storming session in my De Jure Master’s room just across from my cubicle. I remembered thinking; that looks fun. It is.

 

Then, when I was called to the Bar and joined my current firm a walk-in client related to the boss came in asking for someone to represent him to recover some payments and if necessary, to fight in the courts for it over some storyboards and ideas for a TV show. Being a debt recovery and conveyancing firm, nobody had the time to entertain a potential general litigation file, except for the new guy with no portfolio to manage (me). With permission from my Boss, I went in, researched the hell out of it, issued an NoD and negotiated a settlement in favour of the client. Client left a happy man, bought me fancy dinner but at the end of the negotiation when the Settlement Agreement was inked, that was my Eureka moment. I went: Syiok jugak General Lit ni. I never looked back ever since.

 

I am in my tenth year of practicing the arcane arts of lawyering this year and yet still I dare not associate myself with the title lawyer (yes, this again) or litigator. I am competent brawler in court but to call myself a lawyer or litigator, maybe not yet. In my mind I have a long way to go before I can earn the title litigator.

 

I have a practicing certificate (for this year), I dabble in legal disputes in the courts, attend the Annual General Meeting of the Malaysian Bar whenever I can remember it but still I dare not call myself a lawyer. I dare not give a judge a dressing down on social media. I dare not call myself a lawyer online. For me the exalted title of lawyer meant the utmost dedication to the practice of the Law, to have the willingness to give all that you have in service of the Law, to have your every act and every word uttered in line with that end. Me? I have not reached that stage yet. Don’t know when or if I ever will. I am a practitioner of the Law but still I am an outsider looking in and that is fine.

 

Not to say that I am not dedicated to improve myself in my craft. I take every case that came my way seriously, attend to any prospective client the best I can even if I think theirs is a no-hope case (especially when it is a no-hope case. A lost cause are the only ones worth fighting for) while trying to fulfill the need for money. Maybe it is crass to talk about practicing Law and money in the same sentence but the reality is every law firm is a business and every lawyer provides a paid service unless stated otherwise. A business with higher ethical standard but a business nonetheless. Sometimes I wonder how Big Firms do it, that balancing act. No, I lie. I wonder it all the time.

 

In a conversation with a friend and fellow practitioner some time back about the nature of legal practice he said that in the olden days in merry olde England most legal practitioners came from the nobility stock. That might be the reason for calling the Law a noble profession. It means just that, a profession for the nobility whose lands and possessions would allow him to practice the Law free from worries of bills to pay and creditors to appease. Allowing him to fully immerse himself in the Law and to put the interest of the Client and not his own interest first. It’s easy if you are a nobleman I think. It is all that or the idea that the practice of Law is for the nobility might just be a harmless fib from that said friend. A consolation to our precarious existence as small time nobodies. But whatever it is, in a land of Datuks aplenty it does not matter in the end if you bleed blue or red or fluorescent green, we all have bills to pay. Hell, you might have to pay for your Datukship. It is the question of what you are willing to do to pay those bills. Will you cross that line between putting your interest before your client’s? Move the line a few feet? Or pretend the line does not exist?

 

In an ideal world where money and time is no object I would do cases for the heck of it, buy and read the whole lot of law books and attend as many trainings and courses as I can cram and consult as many senior practitioners that I can consult, all to improve my practice and myself, like a hypothetical noble. Alas, I am but a commoner and I do not live in an ideal world. The world I am in right now revolves around bills and debts to be paid and a little family all of which are clamoring for my attention and time is ever fleeting. So to hold myself to the likes of lawyers who lives on principle (I still need my nasik) and have the Law seeping out of their pores, is simply a big ask. There is always a price to pay. I have heard stories of lawyers coming home to an empty house, a shattered marriage, a family in turmoil, abuse substances. That is not a price I am willing to pay. I do however try my best to live up to the ideals of the Bar, to emulate the ones I look up to and adopt their convictions as mine whenever I can. I fail most of the time but not for lack of trying.

 

I once told my wife that she has my permission to slap me with her full might should I ever forget that I am a father to a two boys and a husband to a wife because when I first realized how much I enjoyed doing contested matters I know that work and life balance will be out of whack most of the time and I will need a constant reminder. A mighty slap will do. My wife and not the Law, is the pillar of my practice. Without my wife, I would not have the opportunity to hunt for opportunities to perform in court, to fight a fair and honest fight. Without my wife and her understanding and patient nature, I could have not done what I have done so far in my practice. I owe it to my wife and kids to be the best at what I do. It is my two boys and not the Law that kept me on the straight and narrow path (may it be so for ever). I know that despite their age, they know and they listen and they see every single thing that I say and do. They inspire me to be the best that I can be as a father, a husband and a lawyer and above all to be accountable for my actions, to extend compassion and understanding to my fellow man (and woman) so that maybe in the future they can say: if Abah can do it so can we.

I hope.

 

There is a scene in Fight Club that I really love. Tyler Durden and the unnamed narrator had a Chinese cashier named Raymond K. Hassel pulled out of the convenience store into the parking lot where he was questioned at gunpoint of what he wanted to be. In the end Raymond told Tyler and the unnamed narrator that he planned to be a veterinarian but stopped halfway because ‘It was too hard’’. With the gun pointed to his head, he had a promise extracted out of him that he will resume his studies to be a veterinarian. I like the scene because it was a crude reminder to us that we need that metaphorical gun pointed to our head to achieve or do what truly resonates with our soul. That yearning that kept us awake late at night. That thing that forms our identity. Screw all those excuses. The practice of Law should not be the end all and be all of you. Practitioner ought to be able to at least dual wield, maybe more disciplines apart from the Law, especially one or two or more that really calls to you. Peter the Great of Russia mastered 15 manual professions from blacksmithing, carpentry to stonemasonry. Okay, fine. He might be an absolute ruler with servants at his beck and call but you get the idea. Leonardo Da Vinci, that natural son of a notary. No noble bloodline, not a Tsar. Now that is another example of multidisciplinary individual. A lot of the big names in the Islamic Golden age have more than one expertise. The point is, the Law maybe a jealous mistress but I’d like to believe there are room in a practitioner’s life for a few more. Maybe a lawyer, silambam master and pro ballroom dancer combo. Or a lawyer, the next Man Kidal and a judo master. Something like that. Even when I was in the volunteer copper corp we were told that officers are expected to be an accomplished public speaker, a golfer and fully capable of belting out soulful tunes. I am working on the first two but the last one is beyond me.

 

Fahri once told me that there was one thinker (I forgot his name, I wrote it down somewhere) who said that there are no solutions to a problem, only trade offs. The said thinker was speaking about the unintended consequence of affirmative action for the African American in the US as I recall it. Be that as it may, the quote was a profound one and true on so many levels. It got me thinking in terms the identity we have constructed for ourselves. What we hold dear, our principles forms a bulk of our identity.

 

No person ever woke up one morning and decided to cast his lot with the Devil. That much is obvious. The fall from grace is never instantaneous. It is more like a gentle slide. In this age of blinding speed communication and hasty decisions, bills and debts past due, it is easy to make an exception. Cut a corner. Pad that bill, increase the disbursement, make something up ‘’Just this time. No one will know (But we will)’’ or ‘’Make a business decision’’ we tell ourselves. Before we know it exceptions became the norm, the general rule. What then remains of our principles? What is then left of our identity?

 

Everyday I have to remind myself that I am not how much money I have in my bank account, not my beat up car that I drive, the contents of my wallet or my beloved khakis. I am the sum of choices that I make every single day. It is not easy to stay the course, to stay you in this confused, hyper capitalistic world. The temptation to keep your head down, follow the herd and float in the calm waters of mundanity is all too powerful. Same goes to the temptation to take the easy way out of things, justify it all you want. What is wrong is wrong. Life is hard and it is not fair but that is not a good reason to be unfair to others and to yourself.  Face that 100 foot wave in your rickety old boat, spank the Devil and tell ‘im to get thee behind me. Be you, stay you come what may. Archimedes once said with a good fulcrum and a long lever, one can move the world. A good sense of who you are as a person is the fulcrum, our patience the lever. Apply that and we can truly move the world. 

 

    

Stars

 

It rained hard this evening. A thunder rain. A scale lower than a thunderstorm on my scale. Heavy rain with its attendant lightning but no howling wind. In any case there was raid but it was the lightning that stole the thunder. The building next door was struck by lightning twice. The glass façade of the neighbouring buildings went blinding white everytime it struck. On the radio PSAs about flood evacuation centers and flooding reminder had started coming on. This morning when I sent my youngest to his kindergarten I had to maneuver around a fallen tree limb that would have severely dent a car or cause serious injury to a motorcyclist. The wind and rain had finally caught up with the grand old tree it would seem. The monsoon is finally here. Get your raincoats out and bugout bags ready. It is not the time for swimming. 

I left office sometime after midnight after catching up on some work and with things with Man. I did not notice when rainclouds had finally done its business over Klang Valley and had finally went to bed because what greeted me when I exited my car at home was a sight so beautiful that I just had to stay out there and brave the cold wet night a few moments longer to just stare at the clear night sky where the stars are all out in force. The sky was sprinkled with stars that normally one could not see with the clouds and the artificial light coming from homes and street lights. I can see the many constellations they had taught us back in primary school. They shone bright against the black night sky. There, the big dipper and there be scorpio or something and many others whose names had escaped my sleep-addled mind. The brightest of them all; The North Star. The guiding star. My God. I might not be able to see something like it ever again for no two night sky is the same. Just like no two sunrise is the same. There will be difference and variations in hue and colour. What a glorious sight.

The stars made me think about life and how myopic I can be most of the time. Too cooped up in my all too human issues that I fail to remember that for all the ugliness and sadness we have here on earth we often forget that just overhead beauty lies. It consoles me and humbles me to be reminded that there are things that bigger than me and what ever issues I may have. I think I get it why the ancients looked to the night sky. Looking at it soothes the heart and mind like a balm over a burn. Like a sweet lullaby. Comforting and familiar. It keeps them grounded to the fact that on the grand scale of things we are but insignificant. A mere mote of dust in the almost unending expanse of universe.

I wanted to keep on staring at the sky and let waking dream slowly cover me again like a warm blanket but I had to go in after my neck started to hurt. I hope I get to see such a beautiful sight again. If I do not, I hope I will the memory of this night will stay lodged in my mind for all time. The night the stars came out to play.

On Death.

 

I am typing this while nursing a headache. Maybe not massive enough to stop me from typing but still enough for me to grit my teeth every now and then when the throbbing ache comes around.

Nothing like a spot of sickness to remind you of your mortality. That your flesh is slowly breaking down until finally it is food for worms and bones for the ground. That ours is a brief existence, our 60-70 years on earth (if we are lucky) are but mere momentary spark in the darkness of space. A blip in the steady march of Time.  

 

I read somewhere that the moment our firstborn comes into this world, after the joy of having someone bearing your surname had tapered off the next thing a man thinks of would be of his end. We ought to. The birth of a son or a daughter was a crossing of an unseen threshold in time. That part of our reason of being has been fulfilled now that we have a progeny. All there is left to do is to ensure to the best of our abilities that our family will survive and if possible, thrive. In modern context, we are to weather remainder of our time with its never ending cycles of bills and payments, building that financial foundation for our children and our family. Gathering all we can in preparation for that inevitable day when we are no longer there. In between all that, trying to find the meaning of it all or to give meaning to it all.

 

 

The long and short of it is that we are born, we find our mate, we procreate, all this while things happen to us. Then we die. At least that is the case with male praying mantis. Quaere: What does one call a mantis who had lost his or her faith? Lapsed mantis? Atheist mantis?  

 

 

The only difference between a landfill and a graveyard is that the latter is full of rituals and tears and headstones. Let us not forget the headstones. Speaking of headstones, it is said (can’t remember who) that the first steps towards civilization began the moment our ancestors developed elaborate death rituals, burials and belief (or beliefs) in the afterlife. But how come for all the advances we have made in the sciences the belief in life after death is no longer the thing? Maybe we have shifted our belief from the intangible to the tangible. From the heaven and hell to dollars and cents. The ATM is our altar, the offering is our bank cards. The afterlife is the better life promised in television advertisements or radio jingles. After all, why yearn for that pie in the sky when a real one will do? Or could it be that all this chase for bigger and better things is just our coping mechanism, our way of distracting ourselves from the inevitable.

 

A painting will crack and lose it’s luster, an iron sword will rust away. Flowers bloom and then wither and rot away. Just like me. I will die, we all will. It is the way of the world. The difference is or how we act in the face of it. I dare not say that I will be brave in the face of it for I really do not know. Come to think of it, it is like a trial or hearing that you dread and try to prepare for. At least you know the trial date in advance and trial dates can be vacated and rescheduled again. Not Death.

 

That final frontier. It can be anytime and for whatever cause. No one has ever come back from it to let us know how it was yet millions had passed through its gates. All descriptions of it are either theories or articles of faith. Disembodied intellect, atoms in the void or the sleep of the dead (if you are lucky) before the Final Accounting and onwards to Heaven or Hell, take your pick. Whatever you hold the Next Thing After Death to be, Death it is also the final lesson in growing up. That one day our fathers and our mothers will no longer be around to sooth us in our moments of pain, to impart us their wisdom when we are in doubt or to nag at us when we truly needed it. All will end. All shall end.

 

In Havamal verses 77-78 it is written thus:

"Deyr fé,

deyja frændr,

deyr sjalfr it sama,

en orðstírr

deyr aldregi,

hveim er sér góðan getr.

Deyr fé,

deyja frændr,

deyr sjalfr it sama,

ek veit einn,

at aldrei deyr:

dómr um dauðan hvern."

English translation:

Cattle die,

Friends die,

So, too, must you die.

Though one thing

Never dies;

The fair fame one has earned.

Cattle die,

Friends die,

So, too, must you die.

I know one,

That never dies;

Judgement of a dead man's life

In Death, our life will be judged by our fellow Man whether or not you believe in the Next Thing. Judged and then gradually forgotten as tears dry, compassionate leave is used up and life went on and it will go on for the living. The Dead has no business cluttering the life of the living. 

Ever since it was mandatory to interact with the Malaysian Bar website for renewal of practicing certificates, I would from time to time look at the In Memoriam section. Partly out of morbid curiosity and partly just to remind myself that some day, it would be my name in the section should I still be practicing at the moment of my demise. It would state in brief where I was practicing and whether or not I was high up in the seniority list of the members. I wonder then what would happen to the briefs I was engaged for, would the client trust my colleague to carry on or would they look for another law firm to represent them. Some days it would be a member of the Bar of some seniority. On another day, it would be someone younger than me. A mother, a father. Someone’s son or daughter. It was their time as it will surely be mine. How then would my family and loved ones fare after my passing? Will they be okay? Will the Lawcare entitlement be of some help to them? But these are worries of the living, not for the Dead. Just like worrying over whether i am making enough. 

I do not expect to make a mountain of gold out of my time practicing the Law. Just some means to provide a living for my family and maybe, just maybe give out a little light of hope or defiance to those who need it. Feeble and windblown as it may be. To give some meaning to my brief existence, to be of some use to people around me.

Immortality is an impossibility. It does not exist. Just like the perfect client. But in legal practice there is immortality of sorts. Your bouts in the courts as reported in the law journals, both good and bad. That is, if it is a case of some significance and some future use and if it is reported. But again, why do i care? I'll be dead. 

 

 

 

 

Bully

Baru-baru ini aku ada diminta untuk mewakili seorang pentadbir estet si mati berkenaan dengan keengganan satu firma guaman untuk melepaskan suratan hakmilik asal satu hartanah milik si mati. Cerita pendeknya, sekitar tahun 2002 Si Penyewa yang merupakan kenalan si Mati telah dihalau keluar dari rumahnya. Kebetulan pada waktu itu Si Mati baru sahaja berjaya membeli rumah mampu milik (hartanah dalam cerita ini) tapi sedang berhempas pulas mencari duit untuk membayar deposit rumah mampu milik tersebut. Bagai orang mengantuk disorongkan bantal, si Penyewa yang terdengar mengenai peluang ini pun mencadangkan pada Si Mati; deposit rumah biar Si Penyewa bayar dengan syarat si Penyewa boleh mendiami di rumah tersebut buat sementara waktu. Duit deposit nanti Si Mati bayar kemudian. Rumah tersebut sewaktu dibeli si Mati masih belum lagi dikeluarkan suratan hakmiliknya.

Bila Si Mati berjaya mendapat pinjaman bank, Si penyewa cepat-cepat menawarkan diri untuk membayar ansuran bulanan bank. Si Mati pun benarkan kerana menganggap bayaran tersebut berbentuk sewaan yang membenarkan Si Penyewaa terus tinggal di rumah tersebut. Si Mati dan si Penyewa ni pun kenalan jadi tiada sebarang perjanjian sewaan dibuat diantara mereka. Agak lama juga Si Penyewa tinggal di rumah tersebut. Si Mati meninggal dunia sekitar tahun 2022. Namun sebelum meninggal dunia, Si Mati ada berpesan pada pentadbir estet, kalau apa-apa terjadi pada Si Mati, pentadbir hendaklah memutuskan nasib rumah tersebut. Hendak dijual pada orang lain atau hendak dibiarkan terus disewa Si Penyewa. Masa akan menunjukkan tindakan Si Mati menolong si Penyewa ini umpama melepaskan anjing tersepit.

Bila pentadbir selesai dengan urusan permohonan surat kuasa mentadbir, EPF dan SOCSO si Mati, sampai pula giliran hartanah tersebut untuk diuruskan. Bila tanya dengan Bank, diberitahu baki pinjaman yang belum selesai dan disuruh tanya kepada pemaju berkenaan pindah milik. Pemaju pula suruh ditanyakan kepada peguam Pindah Milik yang dilantik pemaju sama ada dah dipindahmilik ke belum hartanah tersebut kepada nama Si Mati. Peguam pindahmilik lantikan pemaju pula mengelak-elak dari berjumpa. Macam-macam alasan diberikan. Peguam tak ada di pejabat. Peguam cuti tahunan lah. Jadi pentadbir pun terus ke Pejabat Tanah untuk mendapatkan penjelasan. Di sana, carian tanah dibuat mendapati geran individu rumah tersebut telah dikeluarkan sejak tahun 2007 lagi. Jadi berbekalkan dengan carian tanah itu tadi pentadbir terus ke pejabat peguam pindahmilik lantikan pemaju (kita panggil mereka sebagai Peguam Jahanam). Sampai ke sana, peguam masih tak ada di pejabat. Tak pasti alasan apa yang diberikan. Penerangan diberikan oleh kerani yang menguruskan fail tersebut. Katanya walaupun geran asal memang berada dalam milikan firma, firma memang tidak akan dan tidak mahu memindahmilik hartanah kepada Si Mati atau warisnya kerana Si Mati tidak pernah membuat bayaran ansuran bank, sebaliknya semua bayaran ansuran dibuat oleh Si Penyewa dan kononnya Si Mati ada berjanji akan menjual hartanah tersebut kepada Si Penyewa, buktinya ada satu Borang 14A yang telah ditandatangani Si Mati (Kita panggil borang tersebut Borang Pindahmilik Pelik). Kemuncaknya adalah bila si kerani beritahu pada pentadbir, kesian pada Si Mati, kalau tak pindahmilik pada Si Penyewa takut roh Si Mati tak tenang sebab dah janji.

Pentadbir bijak merakam senyap-senyap penerangan si kerani tadi. Patah balik ke Pejabat Tanah dengan hati kegeraman dan sedih berbaur-baur untuk tanya apa yang boleh dibuat, Pejabat Tanah kata lantik peguam. Pegi ke Biro Bantuan Guaman, diberitahu luar bidang kuasa. Entah macam mana pada masa yang sama pentadbir ada pembeli yang berminat dengan hartanah tersebut. Peguam pembeli yang banyak membantu. Tulis dua surat minta diberikan suratan hakmilik asal rumah tersebut, hanya satu yang dibalas. Satu balasan yang diterima bukan dari Peguam Jahanam tapi daripada peguam yang kononnya mewakili Si Penyewa. Surat balasan mengatakan bahawa Penyewa telah membeli rumah tersebut daripada Si Mati dan Si Penyewa sedang mengumpulkan segala bukti pembayaran yang telah dibuat kepada bank bagi pinjaman perumahan dan juga meminta agar pentadbir mengeluarkan rumah tersebut daripada senarai aset dan liabiliti surat kuasa mentadbir. Bila tak berkesan dengan surat meminta geran strata asal cuba dengan panggilan telefon pula. Bila tak lut juga, peguam pembeli mencadangkan cari peguam litigasi. Di sini aku mula terlibat.

Jumpa dengan pentadbir, semua diceritakan pada aku termasuklah kaveat yang dimasukkan si Penyewa dan keadaan ekonomi keluarga yang memang tak punya pendapatan selepas satu kemalangan di tempat kerja oleh pentadbir yang berniaga membuatkan beliau 3 bulan tidak dapat berniaga kerana tangan kanan ada luka dalaman membawa kepada nanah. Kereta pula ditarik oleh bank kerana tunggakan bayaran (ialah, tak ada pendapatan dari perniagaan), anak kemalangan jalan raya, bapa pula jatuh sakit tiba-tiba. Bertimpa-timpa ujian. Mata pentadbir berkaca-kaca bila tanya aku: jadi Encik ambil kes saya ke? Tentang bayaran nanti saya usahakan.

Aku yang mulanya hati keras nak mintak sekurang-kurangnya separuh dari fee guaman yang aku nak letak terus terdiam. Agaknya nampak jelas aku teragak-agak, dia bawa keluar surat dari JKM yang mengatakan dia dapat bantuan RM 300 setiap bulan. Semalam Encik ada minta saya bawa kan?

Ligat otak aku berpikir. Dengan mendengar sahaja cerita sambil selak-selak dokumen yang disediakan aku nampak Si Mati ni dibuli Si Penyewa. Peguam pindahmilik ni pulak membuli pentadbir. Panas hati dibuatnya. Aku pandang pentadbir dan aku nampak Mak. Nampak Mak seorangan bersusah payah membesarkan kami adik -beradik sambil membebel pada Takdir sampai takdir pun mengalah. Lepas tu Mak kena buli dengan peguam. Actually, takkan berlaku pada Mak. Mak will take no shit from anyone. Least of all, from bullies.

Kesudahannya aku mengangguk setuju. Senyum kelat. Rasa malu sendiri kerana terlalu sangsi dengan kesusahan orang lain. Bukan tak biasa didendang cerita sedih dari mereka yang mengelak dari nak bayar fi guaman. Terlalu biasa sampai dah jadi pesimistik. Dalam kepala masih tak pasti aku buat benda betul ke tidak. Otak rasional kata ini bukan tindakan yang menguntungkan. Janji untuk membayar bukanlah bayaran dan aku bukan dalam kedudukan selesa pada waktu ini untuk buat kerja pro bono. Hati aku pulak menjerit-jeri kalau bukan sekarang, bila lagi?. Sebelum perjumpaan tamat, aku maklumkan pada pentadbir aku takkan bekerja seorang diri, aku akan ajak kawan atau kawan-kawan untuk sama-sama mengerjakan kes ini. Pasal fee guaman, bincang kemudian. Pentadbir cuma kata, tak kisah asal buat sampai jadi. Maka lepas tamat perjumpaan terus aku call kawan aku.

Aku berterus-terang dengan kawan aku itu yang ini berkemungkinan tak dapat bayaran atau kalau dapat pun mungkin sekadar bayaran minima. Dia bilang takpa, tengok dokumen dulu. Jadi petang esoknya kami sama-sama dengan tenang menelaah salinan dokumen yang diberikan pentadbir. Dalam kepala aku seorang sami Zen sedang bertenggek atas batu besar sambil menyapu corak-corak menarik di atas batuan kerikil di taman batu Zen. 

Rumah tersebut adalah rumah pangsapuri kos rendah. Maka Jadual H Akta Pemajuan Perumahan (Kawalan dan Perlesenan) 1966 (‘’HDA’’) adalah terpakai. Jadual H, HDA adalah terma-terma Perjanjian Jual-Beli bagi unit perumahan bertingkat atau akan dipecah kepada milikan strata. Keputusan Mahkamah Persekutuan dalam kes Ang Ming Lee dan PJD Regency telah memutuskan bahawa HDA dan regulasi yang dibuat dibawahnya (termasuklah Regulasi Pemajuan Perumahan (Kawalan dan Perlesenan) 1989 (’HDR 89’)) adalah satu social legislation yang bertujuan untuk melindungi pembeli rumah (Rujuk: Nota). Maka jika kontrak jual beli rumah tersebut jatuh bawah HDA maka Jadual-jadual di bawah HDR ‘89 adalah wajib terpakai sebagai statutory contract tanpa sebarang tokok-tambah dibenarkan.

Dalam Jadual H HDR 89 pada sebelum pindaan tahun 2015, Klausa 11 memperuntukkan seperti berikut:

‘’(1) Penjual hendaklah, dengan kos dan perbelanjaannya sendiri dan dengan seberapa cepat yang boleh, memohon untuk memecahbahagikan Bangunan tersebut bagi memperoleh pengeluaran dokumen hakmilik strata yang berasingan bagi Petak tersebut di bawah Akta Hakmilik Strata 1985.

(2) Apabila hakmilik strata dikeluarkan bagi Petak tersebut dan tertakluk kepada pembayaran harga beli oleh Pembeli kepada Penjual mengikut subfasal 4(1) dan pematuhan segala terma dan syarat yang diperuntukkan dalam Perjanjian ini, maka Penjual hendaklah, dalam tempoh dua puluh satu (21) hari, menyempurnakan memorandum pindah milik yang sah dan boleh daftar bagi Petak tersebut kepada Pembeli, warisnya atau penerima namaan atau penerima serah hak yang sah, mengikut mana-mana yang berkenaan.’'

Macam aku katakan tadi, Hakmilik strata dikeluarkan pada tahun 2007. Bagi aku munasabah. Perjanjian Jual Beli ditandatangani 2002, projek makan masa 3 tahun, baki 2 tahun untuk pecah geran dan pengeluaran hakmilik strata. Persoalannya kenapa pindahmilik nama kepada Si Mati hanya dibuat pada tahun 2022, lebih kurang lima belas (15) tahun selepas hakmilik strata dikeluarkan. Apa yang peguam pemaju buat? 

Kepala penyapu tertanggal secara tiba-tiba. Sami menggaru kepala dan pergi cari penyapu baru.

Ok-lah, Husnuzon. Mungkin pemaju yang lambat bagi arahan pada peguam pindahmilik. Aku tengok lagi dokumen.

Sampai ke Borang Pindahmilik Pelik. Aku tengok bertarikh tahun 2021, ada nama dan tandatangan Si Mati. Penerima pindah milik, nama anak perempuan Si Penyewa. Agaknya ini urusan jual beli yang si Penyewa katakan itu. Bila tengok alasan pindahmilik; kasih sayang.

Kekarutan jenis apakah ini?

Sami tergelincir lalu bergolek jatuh beliau dari batu besar tempat tenggekannya tadi. Bingkas bangun dan membetulkan corak dibatuan kerikil yang rosak. Makin dibetul makin lari, tak sekata dengan corak yang lain. Terkumat-kamit mulut mengulang mantra kesabaran. 

Bila ditanya pada peguam-peguam hartanah semua hairan, alasan kasih sayang untuk pindahmilik ini hanya untuk suami isteri, ibu bapa kepada anak. Semakan kepada perintah Duti setem dari tahun 2001 hingga tahun 2021 pun sama. Whatapp pantas kepada pentadbir mengesahkan Si Mati kenalan sahaja kepada Si Penyewa, tak adalah begitu rapat sampai nak ambil anak perempuannya jadi anak angkat.

Padanlah pentadbir ada cerita bila diberitahu dan ditunjuk Borang Pindahmilik Pelik oleh kakitangan peguam pindahmilik dia naik hiba. Ada nama perempuan lain tak dikenali, lepas tu alasan pindahmilik; kasih sayang. Isteri mana tak kecik hati.

Pastu aku tengok balik Borang Pindahmilik Pelik dan nampak nama firma guaman yang menyaksikan tandatangan memorandum tersebut. Nama firma guaman yang sama dengan peguam pindahmilik. Peguam jahanam. Terus buntang mata aku. Padanlah dok mengelak-elak dari jumpa pentadbir, tak nak bagi Suratcara Hakmilik Strata Asal. Fi pindahmilik ke Si Mati kau dapat lepas itu dari Si Penyewa pun kau nak jugak. Kiri kanan kau sapu. Yang jadi mangsanya pentadbir dan waris Si Mati.

Dalam minda aku penyapu sudah patah dua dan sami sedang mengulang koan-koan kesabaran dengan mata terkatup rapat.

‘’Tengok ni’’ kata kawan aku sambil tunjuk satu dokumen. Satu perjanjian sewaan, lokasi sewaan adalah alamat rumah dalam kes ni. Bila tengok nama pemilik rumah, ianya nama yang sama di dalam Memorandum Pindahmilik Pelik iaitu nama anak perempuan Si Penyewa. Kata beli rumah tu tapi alasan pindahmilik kasih sayang lepas tu peguam pemaju juga adalah peguam Si Penyewa untuk pindahmilik rumah kepada anak si Penyewa. Pastu belum tentu arah lagi dah mengaku jadi tuan rumah, sewakan rumah pada pihak ketiga. Aku bersandar ke kerusi, capai pouch tembakau dan terus gulung sebatang rokok.

Penyapu sedang terbakar bersama-sama daun kering yang dikumpul dan pakaian si sami yang dikoyak-koyak. Si sami yang hanya bercawat pula sedang menyepak-nyepak corak batuan kerikil sambil terpekik-pekik kemarahan.

‘’Celaka punya lawyer’’ kata kawan aku tadi. ‘’Okeh, onz buat file ni’’ dia sambung lagi sebelum sedut asap vape dalam-dalam.

Malam itu juga aku deraf Notis Tuntutan kepada Peguam Jahanam. Selepas itu, aku isi borang aduan pada Badan Disiplin. Kami rancang untuk terjah pejabat Peguam Jahanam, bagi masa sejam untuk dapatkan suratan hakmilik strata asal keesokan petangnya juga sebagai langkah permulaan. Kalau tak dapat, minggu depannya segala saman dan aduan akan menimpa Peguam Jahanam. Pentadbir juga diminta untuk berada di kawasan berdekatan esok untuk bersedia terima suratan hakmilik strata, kalau peguam jahanam tiba-tiba mengalah. 

Esok harinya, aku terlambat ke tempat pertemuan dengan pentadbir iaitu sebuah kedai makan berdekatan dengan pejabat peguam jahanam. Kawan aku dah sampai dulu. Dia dah perkenal diri bagai. Borak dua-tiga minit kemudian terus ke pejabat Peguam Jahanam. Di ruangan menunggu ada pasangan Melayu sedang duduk. Sesampainya di sana ada kerani dengan muka bosan tanya ada urusan apa.

Kawan aku dengan suara keras berkata, saya nak serve Notis Tuntutan.

Pada siapa ya? tanya kerani masih lagi bosan.

Pada firma ni, jawab kawan aku dengan nada kuat.

Terkedu kerani tadi, dari ekor mata aku nampak pasangan tadi terus menoleh pada kawan aku dengan muka terkejut.

Peguam yang in charge untuk file ini Puan xxxxx kan? Saya nak jumpa dia kata kawan aku.

Dia tengah solat Encik. Encik tunggu sekejap boleh? jawab kerani tadi sehabis lembut.

Jadi kami pun tunggu. Sambil tunggu nampak kerani yang terima Notis Tuntutan itu masuk ke bilik peguam dan duduk lama disitu. Bila dipanggil masuk ke bilik peguam sambil duduk kawan aku terus beritahu apa tujuan datang. Seperti dipersetujui, aku biar kawan aku yang bercakap. Aku tak percaya diri aku untuk bercakap bila banyak benda yang nak dihambur. 

Paling penting sekali, kawan aku beritahu, Puan ada masa sejam dari sekarang untuk serahkan Suratcara Hakmilik Strata kepada kami seperti dinyatakan dalam Notis Tuntutan kami ni.

Kalau tak? tanya Peguam tersebut buat-buat bijak cuba cari masa untuk berfikir.

Kalau tak, I’ll see you in court, kata kawan aku tenang. Ayat klise tapi mengancam.

Peguam telan air liur, buat-buat minta kerani carikan fail. Fail tak jumpa kononnya.

Kami dah angkat punggung nak beransur tiba tiba fail sampai. Duduk balik. Peguam cuba nak menerang, kata ada dapat surat dari peguam si Penyewa kata beliau akan mulakan tindakan Mahkamah untuk menuntut hakmilik rumah tersebut kerana beliau yang bayar ansuran bulanan pada bank jadi mereka tak berani nak menyerahkan geran asal pada pentadbir walaupun tahu pentadbir berhak pada geran asal.

Badan aku dah ke depan nak menjawab sebelum teringat janji aku untuk kunci mulut walaupun banyak boleh ditanya dan dimakikan, aku bersandar balik ke kerusi. Kawan aku tolak balik surat itu tanpa tengok, sebab kami dah tengok pun surat tu semalamnya dari dokumen yang diberikan pentadbir. Bila nampak alasan diberi tidak kami terima, peguam beri pula alasan perlu call terlebih dahulu peguam si Penyewa untuk meminta kepastian. Aku tahan keinginan untuk hambur kata-kata kesat atas alasan tak masuk akal yang diberikan.  Kawan aku cuma cakap, Puan buatlah apa Puan nak buat. Puan ada masa sejam.

Kami pun kembali ke kedai makan sambung berborak dengan pentadbir. Kurang dari sejam dapat panggilan. Geran sedia diambil. Cuma peguam jahanam minta salinan surat kuasa mentadbir. Kami buat arrangement untuk serahkan kemudian.

Pegi kembali ke pejabat peguam jahanam. Sign surat pelepasan geran dan ambil geran. Sambil-sambil kawan aku sign surat, Peguam cuba-cuba buat baik dengan kawan aku. Borak kosong. Very eager to please. Siap tawarkan ada satu kes jenayah untuk kawan aku kerjakan. Entahkan ye ke entahkan tidak. Dalam hati aku dok pikir, nampak macam biasa sangat menawar gula-gula untuk melancar kerja atau menghadang bala. Takut dengan kawan aku pun boleh jadi juga.

Peguam jahanam juga ada ulang kembali yang dia tak ada hak untuk pegang geran lama-lama sebab dia kena pindahmilik pada Si Mati. Nak sahaja aku maki; dah tu kenapa sampai lepas 15 tahun geran strata keluar baru kau nak pindahmilik pada Si Mati?

Aku tak percaya pemaju yang lambat setelkan borang pindahmilik. Fakta-fakta yang ada lebih berat menunjukkan kepada peguam jahanam memegang geran strata asal rumah tersebut dengan harapan pentadbir akan putus asa dan membenarkan pindahmilik kepada si Penyewa disempurnakan.

Kembali ke kedai makan, serah geran asal pada pentadbir. Senyum lebar pentadbir, ucap terima kasih berulang-kali. Sebelum mata berkaca (mata pentadbir, bukan mata aku), aku dengan kawan cepat-cepat beransur mencari tempat lagi selesa untuk berbual, berasap dan menyusun langkah seterusnya. Panjang lagi perjalanan kes. Banyak kausa tindakan dan banyak pihak boleh diheret sama.

Bila kami dah tenang-tenang di kedai satu lagi sambil hirup milo ais aku beritahu dia: Brader, lu memang power. Tenang all the way. Kalau aku pegi sorang tak rasa boleh settle hari ini juga. Dia senyum dan cakap rasa senang hati dapat tolong orang yang betul-betul kena tindas. Aku mengangguk setuju sambil sedut asap. Dalam hati berdoa harapnya aku tak tergelincir dari landasan bila digoda dengan wang. 

Nota:

Ang Ming Lee & Ors v. Menteri Kesejahteraan Bandar, Perumahan dan Kerajaan Tempatan & Anor and other appeals [2020] 1 CLJ 162; [2020] 1 MLJ 281

PJD Regency Sdn Bhd v. Tribunal Tuntutan Pembeli Rumah & Anor and other appeals [2021] 2 CLJ 441; [2021] 2 MLJ 60