/// DESATURATED

wirasangga
2004-02-22

The past haunts me like vultures hound half dead zebras.

Don�t you think I rival Karam Singh Walia at making up weird metaphors?
Hehe.

History was revisited when a friend wrote me an email a few days ago.
Mueez is a friend I respect because he is the antithesis of my faithlessness; he believes in the goodness and fairness of god. When I am with him I feel like I am a step closer to a divine presence.
Anyway, he asked me why I didn�t include in my �what you might not know about me list� the fact that I used to be a pretty good silat exponent.

To tell the truth, I totally forgot about it.

If you asked me four years ago whether I would consider giving up that age old martial art in my daily life, I would probably have spat at your feet and cursed your ancestors.
Well, not really.
But I would very likely reply with a vehement �No!�

But look at me now.
I�ve forgotten that I used to be a pencak silat enthusiast.

It was my obsession, my passion, my raison d�etre. I would think for hours on how I should throw a punch. I would count the minutes until my next practice session.
At 15 I started to actively take part in wirasangga competitions, literally choreographed �fights�, the most strenuous and dangerous of the three events in silat seni. My partner and I were two-time champions at state level competitions; we made it to the nationals even.

Due to our sudden achievement of greatness, the silat club began to receive attention at a school that once considered it to be something of a nuisance. Now, my alma mater regularly produces silat exponents for SUKMA.

It�s sad that now I don�t even remember the most basic of �bunga�s, the dance-like �lenggok� that makes the silat distinctively Melayu.

Spurred by Mueez�s email, I started rummaging through old photos, and found a cd of my friends and I practicing for a competition.
I was such a posturing cock during those years.
Hehe.

I miss that passion that would drive me to drop everything just to feel the rush of throwing a punch and being kicked in the gut.
I miss the theatrical nature of the silat seni.
I miss the pride I used to feel when people asked, "Kau main apa silat?" and I'd answer, "Aku main tempur."
I miss that feeling of abject misery when we lost and jubilance when we won.

Anyone out there an anak Gayong in the states?
Drop me a line yo.

previous - next