The new Pope loomed large as he blessed his first highway... 

I think it is wonderful that from the tops of buildings, people look like ants and on the bottom, ants look like people.  

PRINCE ALI, MARVELLOUS IS HE, ALI ABABWAAAAAAAAAA... the High Courts at the new administrative capital of Malaysia, Putrajaya.  

This could have been good, but I'm lazy...

Joining the production industry in KL has definitely changed me as a human being. I don't know whether the overall change is for the better or worse, but on a micro level, there are some very brilliant new skills that I'm acquiring. Things like punctuality, efficiency, and the wonderful ability to find you almost anything you want in this city.

I've also made a very conscious decision to keep my bitching to a 5 minute minimum for each non-industry friend I meet. I don't want to be that guy who complains about his job all the time. That being said, there are tons of things that I absolutely detest about work. Let me explain a little bit about production for a second though...

There are three phases to a confirmed shoot. The first phase is the prep stage, where you go about finding locations, talents, equipment, crew etc. It's the planning and presenting to clients stage. The second stage is the actual shooting of the commercial and the third stage is post-production where the processing, editing, and special effects are done. The first stage is what I absolutely hate. The third stage I don't know enough about because I'm always busy on the first two stages. The second stage though, I am absolutely in love with.

My good friend Pizza the Kid (Mr.Wong Himself) once described shoot as "exams after you've been studying like a fucker for a month". Which is the perfect way to describe them. Rushed late-night prep periods feel exactly like picking up your textbook at 6pm the day before mid-terms and the resulting shoot feels exactly like sitting in an exam hall and just praying that the stuff you studied for comes out. A lengthy prep period makes you extremely eager to go to shoot... it is a special feeling watching all the work that I hate to do coming together seamlessly in an intelligent, chronologically efficient, manner... and bugger it all. Shoot is FUN.

Today I got to drive a fire engine red BMW 330 Ci convertible with 19" Brighton rims and a Brighton bodykit back from the outskirts to the middle of the city. This is a serious car and when you drive it, alot of people turn around to have a serious look at it. It is triptronic and the gear shift is from the steering wheel, to give you that quasi-F1 feeling. It is effortlessly powerful, handles like a pair of handles, and is something I'd never have the opportunity to do on my current paycheck.

In the short time I've been working at Your Mother Pictures, I've got to do some cool things...

- Go all over the city on technical recces. Access to rooftops of skyscrapers in the center of town hence some of the best views of KL. Some have beautiful swimming pools, some have been around since the early 1900's. All make me love my city even more. From 40 storeys above the ground, traffic jams look fun.

- Drop a half-ton metal plate into the Klang River, smack in the middle of downtown KL from about 70 feet above the water... and then raise it back up and do it all over again. It creates a splash about 20 feet high and sounds like a bomb going off.

- Guide a helicopter to its proper landing area and then guiding it back up into the air.

- Go swimming in an underwater river

- Meet, flirt, and talk absolute nonsense with some of the hottest women I've ever seen.

- Watch countless sunrises and be amazed by each and every single one of them. My favorite was at the paddy fields in Sekinchan. Green as far as the eye can see, fog, birds flying in formation, silhouttes of old kampung houses, old man on a bicycle, purple clouds, orange skies. Gor-ges.

- Carry a walkie talkie.

- Drive El Stormo Guapo through Mars like terrain on the top of hill.

- Wade through leech infested ponds.

- Race that BMW convertible while driving a tricked out Mitsubishi Airtrek Turbo through morning traffic. Being late for crew call does amazing things to your ability to charge through traffic.

- Use a loud hailer.

- Cover the brand new unlaunched national car with a truckload of "mucus" (cooked tapioca starch with green food coloring).

- Smash a car with a sledgehammer and then turn it on its side. After that I had to get in and climb out through the window while acting like I didn't know what hit me.

- Flatten an entire beach with a tractor.

- Yell at massive amounts of extras.

- Work with a fun loving bunch of pirates (the crew).

Ok lah enough already. I love shooting. I love the focus, the maddening pace, the constant vigilance, the absolute control that one needs to co-ordinate 45 or so people through the blazing hot sun.

There is more but I'm exhausted. I started writing this blog coz I was too tired from today's shoot to go home immidiately. Now I'm too tired to continue writing it. Instead, I'm going to be lazy and post some pictures.

Man, this is my worst entry ever. I guess I really contradicted my opening paragraph.

Whatever, balls.

Fun with Wigs, #1 in a Series 

Fun with Wigs, #2 in a Series 

doo doo doo doo 

Found in a credit cart debt collection agency filled entirely with machas... 

Anyone have any idea what "Ladunie" means? No point even offering a partial translation if you don't have the third word of a 5 word sentence.  

I'm not a very good older brother... but on his birthday, I managed to get home at 5 like normal people do and spent the rest of the evening teaching him how to ride his bike. 1 month later and he's learning how to bust no-handers down the street. Goombastic! 

The Eye of Koobz... reminds me of R2-D2 on Tatooine 

Hogs of the Mountain...  

All the other condensers gathered around when it became obvious that they had a jumper on their hands... 

I don't like being monitored... especially by Johnny 5.  

This sign doesn't need a witty caption.  

This is where you go to school to learn how to be my mother... 

Ladies and Gents, Krishen Singh! I love this picture of him. He even did his famous Krishen pose as we joked about what could have been if he were a Sikh... 

The Old Man in healthier days... with another one of his crazy shirts.  

The gang... I you can't really make them out (except for the fatty in red) but somewhere in there is Zahim, Ivy, Fred, Ramesh, Gabrielle, Mark, Adrian, Wyn, May Lin, Marion, Raju, Sunil, Nina, Angie, Kung Yew, Andre, Huzir, Claire, and fast becoming one of my all-time favorites, Marge. 

Leaning over the side of the boat as Marion poured his ashes into the water. The rest of us threw flowers, and May Lin added the Panama hat, just in case he might feel it in fashion once more.  

"Done. Threw his ashes and hat and flowers into the sea from a cute wooden boat. He be happy." -- Foo May Lin.  

"Done. Threw his ashes and hat and flowers into the sea from a cute wooden boat. He be happy" -- Foo May Lin 

Zahim pretending to be a submarine officer on shore leave. He really looks the part, in my opinion.  

3.10pm, Thursday April 28th 2005. Rain falling on the University Hospital rooftop. 

Dearest Krishen... Encore, Bravo, and Thank You

Krishen Jit s/o Amar Singh passed away on Thursday, April 28th 2005 at approximately 3.00pm. For a truly dramatic effect, Mother Nature aquiesced and the heavens parted. Thunder boomed, lightning frizzle frazzled across the sky, and flash floods broke out all over the city.



I was with Marion and the army of family and friends that Krishen commanded thru saying our goodbyes at the hospital, going back to the house, lying in wake, the funeral, the cremation, and finally this morning the dispersal of his ash in the ocean, somewhere between Port Klang and Pulau Ketam. This was because while Krishen was not a close friend of mine, he has definitely been an influence, along with Marion and the rest of the indomitable Five Arts family. It was an honor to serve him and his kin, even if it be in his passing.

This entry though, is not so much about the Old Man as it is about the last few days. Much can be said about KJ, and much has already been said about him in a manner far more eloquently and respectfully than I ever can. Read Kathy Rowland's obituary and also the condolence page on Kakiseni.Com

I would like to be sent off the way Krishen was. Everything was done with great care, honesty, attention, and above all, love. Kathy said it right when she refers to it as love in "all its emotional complexity". Instead of wearing a boring suit to the proceedings of his death, Krishen showed up in one of his favorite shirts: Black base color, long sleeved, and covered with ridiculous swatches of bright pink, orange, red, and other maniacal colors. When we first saw his open casket that night at the house, there was a definite undertone of mirth and joy for this man's life. Marion shared a small laugh with us about the shirt as we gathered around the coffin, her fingers tenderly stroking his wild eyebrows. His hobbit fingers were neatly clasped together on his chest as we contemplated whether they should be covered by his ridiculous Panama hat that he took to wearing for a few months in 2004. In the end it was decided that it was a phase that he was already over, so... no need lah.

Like most people of his stature, Krishen's death reunited a community, for at least a few brief days. I saw people I hadn't seen in years... brilliant friends whom it was worth sneaking out of the wake for a roti canai. We exchanged pleasantries, cigarettes, cheap beer, and Krishen stories, all the while sweating like dogs in the unforgiving KL humidity. There was a very palpable sadness but at the same time, a very palpable joy. His was a life very well lived. He touched people from all walks of life and from all generations.

The solemn Christian rites of his funeral were tastefully intercut with gamelan music accompanying the procession of Krishen's coffin, P. Ramlee's 1960's Malay bossanova flavored stylings during the final respects, and then Vivaldi ushered all of us out of the church with his movement titled "Spring" (I THINK that is what it's called anyway). There was a heart wrenching slideshow that covered the requisite "thru the years" theme, but at the same time, none of it was contrived. Every photograph of him kept some part of his soul and his eyes mischeviously shined from behind his crazy eyebrows and his glasses. Photos of Krishen at rehearsal, with his actors, a Krishen caricature by Malaysia's Cartoon Laureate, Lat that finally ended with a beautiful photograph of Marion and Krishen smiling together... that absolutely tore me to shreds inside.

Krishen was given two eulogies at his funeral. First by TK Sabapathy, the famous South East Asian art historian based in Singapore and Krishen's old friend from his UC Berkeley days in the 1960's and the second by Mark Teh, the young publicity manager of Five Arts. Mark was chosen to represent the young, for Krishen touched many a young person. The age range at KJ's funeral was quite amazing, really. Both eulogies were equally touching. Sabapathy had the history, Mark had the gratitude of being respected for who he was. Not for his age or his race or whatever else that idiots in this world use to filter out reality, but just for himself.

At the crematorium, we sang Amazing Grace as we placed flowers on his coffin and Yellow Bird for as the doors slowly closed. As we were turning to leave, Leow Puay Tin announced "Ladies and Gentlemen, how about a round of applause for Krishen Jit?!" and the crowd erupted into a tremendous applause. Applause that complimented the thunderous booms of thunder that only the ever theatrical Mother Nature could provide. Later on at Marion's place, samosas, egg tarts, masala tea and other comfort food held sway as the army of love continued to biouvac in the living room all the way out to the kerb.

The best part of his send off though, for me, was definitely earlier this morning when a small group of us went to pick up his ashes so that we could spread them into the ocean. About 6 cars convoyed from Marion's place to Klang and while the atmosphere was sad, it was definitely buoyed by the underlying excitement and holiday atmosphere of any normal Five Arts outing. Zahim somehow came dressed as a submarine officer and a Krishen shirt, Huzir was wearing Marion's "Life is a Cabernet" baseball hat, and Mark had the most ridiculous Sri Lankan cricket team t-shirt on (sponsored by Dilmah Tea).

We all hoped on a cute wooden boat that shared a jetty with the Pulau Ketam ferry, which by the way, has a woman conductor that is most interesting. She was a petite Chinese woman somewhere in her mid-30's dressed in tight jeans and a sheer yellow top with thick yellow faux fur lining. In her left hand she clutched a bright purple handbag and in her right hand she had a child's loudhailer which alternately broadcast a cheesy version of "Happy Birthday" and her own boat conductor schpiel which was....

"PULAU KETAM PULAU KETAM PULAU KETAM FELLY FELLY PULAU KETAM PULAU KETAM FELLY VELLY GOOD VELLY GOOD VELLY GOOD PULAU KETAM PULAU KETAM PULAU KETAM"

at breakneck speed. My rationale, for her wardrobe at least, is that there must be some sort of direct ferry between Pulau Ketam and Sungai Wang Plaza.

The aforementioned cute wooden boat took us out between Pulau Ketam and Port Klang. The 20 or so of us hung on to the side of the boat as Marion leaned over and emptied his ashes into the water. The rest of us threw flower petals. Krishen took to the petals delightfully, or perhaps it was the other way around, but they hopped on the current and made a gentle arc that stretched behind the aforementioned cute wooden boat. May Lin threw in the Panama hat as Krishen's physical form formally returned to the elements, and his spiritual form moved into our hearts and our heads. Altough, that being said, his spiritual form has always lived in our hearts and our heads, just that now he finally made it official. Change of Address forms at the post office and what not. Angie felt it was really appropriate to spread his ashes in the ocean because "he was so gentle, and his influence pervaded everywhere... it's like what his ashes are doing now... with the flowers, mingling with everything, returning to everything."



What I quite liked about it was that not even 4 minutes after the mini-ceremony, a barge coming from the opposite direction sailed straight into the flowers and the ash. It was one of those moments that Life likes to throw at you where the symbolism is very simple and easy to grasp. Life. Goes. On.

Sabapathy said "The collective store of wisdom and culture is shrinking on both sides of the Causeway (Malaysia & Singapore). And we have no way out." It is a very scary thought and one that Krishen would want us to do something about.

The other thing he would have wanted was to take part in the ensuing seafood meal that we went on to eat, post-ash spreading. The beautiful thing about Krishen is that while everyone has some sort of Krishen story, those lucky enough to have dined with him know that some of the best Krishen moments happen over food. His love for the edible transcended his diabetes, his lack of a driver's license, and everything else. He truly enjoyed eating and sharing good food with good company. He would have loved the 20 odd bottles of beer that were left empty at lunch, or the steamed fish with ginger, the oatmeal prawns, the butter prawns, the mantis prawns, the choy sam, the cabbage, the CRABS(!!) and most of all, the company. Gathered around that table were some of the most delightful people I have ever met, and I'm sure Krishen felt the same way.





My Krishen stories involve among many things, giving him hobbit names after seeing his feet for the first time, road tripping with him to Melaka for Nyonya food and ancient tomb sightseeing, and eating chicken rice with Meera and him in Singapore. My favorite story though, I won't share here. I enjoy it too much, and now I'm going to hold it even tighter to myself. If you'd like to know, give me a call, and maybe I'll tell you.

But now after all the ceremonies are done, and all the official steps are taken, comes the hard part. Moving on within ourselves. I cannot fathom a world where there is a Marion but no KJ. I love the two of them too much for me to even begin to understand this, but I suppose that is what every one of us who knew the man is dealing with in some capacity.

See you later, Mr Jit. Old Man. KJ. Krishen. Chris. Jit The Shit. Utih. I love you and Marion immensely. Even though it was in an indirect fashion, you helped shape me and helped me change myself into a better person.

I'll end the same way Mark ended his eulogy... in fact, I'm going to quote him directly.

"One of the things about Five Arts Center program books, if you know Krishen Jit's Director's notes, he talks about many different layers of things, but there is only one constant thing that he mentions over and over again, always the last line, the ending thought. Marion D'Cruz. Each time, every time, he found new ways to thank you. He called you his anchor, Marion, because you have a lot of weight. You carry a lot of weight. Look at all these people around you. We hope you will let us help you carry that weight Marion, and not just keep it all to yourself".



*****************



More:

"Krishen Jit Dies of Stroke" - The Star
"Krishen will remain a hero for generations to come" by Kee Thuan Chye
"Malaysian theatre director Krishen Jit dies" - The Hindu