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Tuesday, December 02, 2008
Posted at 10:22 pm by wakjaman
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Wednesday, November 26, 2008
HARI ini Wakjaman pergi ke Kundang Ulu menghadiri perjumpaan dengan pengurusan KPR Kundang Ulu Berhad sebagai wakil kepada Boss Wakjaman yang tidak dapat pergi atas urusan lain.
Selepas selesai perjumpaan tersebut, Wakjaman balik dan singgah di kedai komputer Mountain Net Bukit Gambir untuk mengambil monitor komputer yang rosak yang telah siap dibaiki.
Ketika dalam kereta, kira-kira jam 5.30 petang, handphone Wakjaman berbunyi, tengok nombor yang dipaparkan tak diketahui kerana tiada dalam simpanan Wakjaman.
Pemanggil tersebut memberi salam dan memperkenalkan diri. "Assalamualaikum, Wakjaman, saya DJ Rinn dari Melaka FM,".
Terkejut juga Wakjaman kerana dapat panggilan dari Melaka FM, apahal pulak. Dia kata sekejap lagi Wakjaman akan on-air kat Melaka FM dalam 50 saat lagi. Wakjaman tanya nak buat apa. DJ Rinn kata Wakjaman diberi peluang untuk menyampaikan ucapan kepada sesiapa sahaja dalam rancangan Salam 60-an.
Tiba saat yang dinantikan, DJ Rinn mengumumkan "Sekarang kita bersama seorang Teman MelakaFM yang bertuah hari ini, Wakjaman dari Bukit Gambir".
Ketika siaran itu ke udara, isteri Wakjaman, Wak Ipah, anak-anak, Jieha, Dhira dan Eiwan ada mendengar di dalam kereta Kancil Wakjaman, masa tu Wakjaman guna kereta anak Boss Wakjaman.
DJ Rinn bertanya khabar dan lokasi Wakjaman berada dan memberikan peluang kepada Wakjaman menyampaikan ucapan kepada sesiapa sahaja.
"Ucapan ini ditujukan kepada isteri tersayang, Hanipah Umar yang menyambut ulangtahun kelahiran semalam (25/11/08), anak-anak, Najihah, Nadhirah dan Muhammad Ikhwanuddin, warga Kampung Parit Kassan serta semua Teman Melaka FM yang berada di mana sahaja," itu ucapan yang Wakjaman keudarakan di corong Melaka FM.
Selesai ucapan DJ Rinn mengucapkan terima kasih. Bagi Wakjaman hari itu memang bertuah kerana suara Wakjaman berkumandang di ruang udara Melaka FM dan boleh didengar oleh pendengar di sekitar Melaka, Muar, Tangkak, Segamat, dan Negeri Sembilan.
Selepas suara Wakjaman berkumandang, satu mesej sms Wakjaman terima, "Tahniah Wakjaman" daripada kawan Wakjaman, Misran KS dari Sagil Parit 3.
Terima kasih DJ Rinn kerana memilih Wakjaman untuk on-air dalam rancangan Salam 60-an.
~wakjaman:sekalimenulistetapmenulis~
Posted at 08:33 pm by wakjaman
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Tuesday, November 25, 2008
ULANGTAHUN KELAHIRAN WAKIPAH
HARI INI ULANG TAHUN KELAHIRAN ISTERI WAKJAMAN, WAK IPAH YANG KE-35
Posted at 08:30 pm by wakjaman
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Saturday, November 15, 2008
DAPATKAN CARA-CARA MEMBUAT KAD KAHWIN PADA HARGA YANG PALING MURAH. KLIK PAUTAN DI BAWAH UNTUK MAKLUMAT LANJUT.
Posted at 09:25 pm by wakjaman
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Wednesday, October 01, 2008
SALAM AIDILFITRI , MAAF ZAHIR DAN BATIN DARIPADA WAKJAMAN SEKELUARGA
 HAI ROZZAMAN BIN JALAL aka WAKJAMAN HANIPAH BINTI UMAR SITI KHAIRUN NAJIHAH BINTI HAI ROZZAMAN KHAIRUN NADHIRAH BINTI HAI ROZZAMAN MUHAMMAD IKHWANUDDIN BIN HAI ROZZAMAN
Posted at 08:25 pm by wakjaman
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Saturday, September 27, 2008
'BARAAN' DYING OFF BUT ITS TRUE SPIRIT LIVES ON
2008/09/27
JOHAN JAAFFAR: 'Baraan' dying off but its true spirit lives on
THIS Wednesday, the first day of Hari Raya, I will be performing a
ritual that I have been doing since I was little -- baraan. It is a
Javanese word that means visiting every house in the congregation. In
my case, there are at least 30 houses to visit. We will begin with a
short marhaban (verses praising Prophet Muhammad) upon entering the
house and later, the head of the delegation will represent us to seek
forgiveness from the host.
Those days, it was a tedious process. The head
spoke in Jawa Halus (literally fine Javanese or language of the court).
It takes at least 15 minutes of mohon maaf replete with a firm
handshake, lots of nodding and shedding a tear or two. Besides baraan
there are many other rituals still practised by my kampung folk. They
are largely descendents of those who came from Ponorogo in Eastern Java
who form the majority of the Javanese people in Johor.
In
my village, the Javanese lived in an area identified as Darat
(literally further inroad from the main road) while the Malays lived
nearer to the sea (Baruh). I lived at the Darat, among the Javanese,
and I speak the language fluently, even catching up bits and pieces of
the incredibly difficult-to-master Jawa Halus. I grew up with Javanese
boys and girls. My father and mother, both of Bugis descent, lived with
them for many decades, but could hardly speak the language, though they
understand what was spoken.
Any sociologist studying the impact
of modernisation in rural Malaysia should visit my village, Kampung
Sungai Balang in Muar. There, age-old traditions are very much alive
and kicking. Talk about esprit de corps, you'll be surprised social
norms are observed as much today as they were decades ago.
Socialisation is a process that warrants adherence to collective values
and responsibilities and sanctions are applied on those who fail to
comply. Deviants are frowned upon.
The lives of the people are
very much determined by religion and culture. In fact, the two are
intertwined to make it almost difficult to discern the sacred and the
secular. In many Malaysian villages, cooking and serving at weddings
are left to caterers, in my village the pakatan (congregation) is still
intact. Many days before the auspicious occasion, a balai (literally a
temporary structure to feed the guests, now of course canopies are
taking its place) will be erected. The entire congregation will deliver
the utensils the day before and the women will help to prepare for the
big day, decorating the house and making the pelamin (bridal dais).
There will be the lek lek an, when every one will be helping to prepare
the food the night before the wedding.
Those who want to show their talent in berzanji (reading from
a book of praises for the Prophet) can join the group until the wee
hours of the morning. It was an unofficial competition or sport, the
one with the best voice and the perfect style was the envy of the rest.
Of
course, there are rituals deemed un-Islamic by today's standard of
religious correctness. But in those days, sepasaran, a ritual to
welcome an occasion when a baby reaches a certain age, was accepted as
part of the social necessity.
Back then, there was a belief
about those who die on a Jumaat Kliwon (a special Friday in the
Javanese calendar), where the body parts were best suited for black
magic purposes. The graves of those who died on that day would be
guarded for 40 days and nights.
Many of these beliefs have died a natural death, but the ways of the old are remembered fondly by members of the society.
This
is the community that brought along with them performing arts in the
form of wayang kulit, wayang wong, wayang gedok, kuda kepang and
barongan. In fact, many of these performances have survived the test of
time.
Do not take these theatrical expressions lightly. When
the Tourism Board promoted barongan as one of our own to show our
diversity, the people of Ponorogo in Java erupted in protest, claiming
barongan was theirs and we had no right to it. It became a public
relations and diplomatic nightmare last year.
Baraan has not
changed over the decades. We used to cycle around, meandering through
peat soil, sometimes into inaccessible areas and on soggy paths. It
took us at least seven days to finish visiting all the houses, moving
slowly a few hours a day, sometimes even at night. Now the process is
speedier. We could complete it in a day.
But modernisation is
rearing its ugly head. Many of the boys who lived in the cities now
avoid joining the baraan, citing time constraints and other
commitments. But I have soldiered on for more than four decades. I
missed the baraan only twice, the first time when I was studying
abroad, the second time when we decided to berhari raya in the city, a
decision my children never forgave me for.
Things have changed
in my village. But the spirit of baraan lives on. Perhaps, it means
different things to different people. Perhaps it will not even survive
the challenges of the day. But to me, it means more than just nostalgia
and a social commitment. I take it as an opportunity to visit the
people I have known since I was a kid. Some were an integral part of
the founding of the settlement there. Many came from Java with only the
determination to open up jungles and start a life. More importantly I
grew up with their children. There are fewer old faces every year as we
go on the baraan rounds.
I remember many of them fondly. Wak
Rahmat the gasing (top) maker; Wak Dayat the storyteller; Wak Kemis the
village clown and Hassan Bai the footballer. They have all passed away
together with many of the women who scolded me and my friends for
muddying the stream while they were washing their clothes. Many of them
-- Mbah Wek, Mbok Tuginah and Kak Ra -- helped me define the meaning of
respect and honour.
They are part of my narrative, a village boy
hurtled into the city. For that I don't mind joining the baraan again
this Hari Raya.
SOURCE: NEW STRAITS TIMES
Posted at 08:04 pm by wakjaman
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Monday, July 14, 2008
ULANG TAHUN KELAHIRAN DHIRA
HARI INI ULANG TAHUN KELAHIRAN ANAK WAKJAMAN, DHIRA YANG KE-9
Posted at 09:16 pm by wakjaman
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Monday, March 10, 2008
ULANG TAHUN KELAHIRAN EIWAN
HARI INI ULANG TAHUN KELAHIRAN ANAK WAKJAMAN, MUHAMMAD IKHWANUDDIN YANG KE-4 TAHUN.
Posted at 09:06 pm by wakjaman
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