Haunting Halloween

Menacing Jack-o'-Lanterns, screeching witches, haunted houses and blood-sucking vampires.

Yes folks, it's Halloween today. Shortened from All Hallow's Evening, this holiday has its origins deeply rooted in Celtic culture. The Celts originally celebrated the day by lighting bonfires and sacrificing livestock. Halloween was celebrated on the eve of All Hallow's Day, now known as All Saints' Day. These days, however, it's more known for trick-or-treating, costume parties and horror movies.

Like Valentine's, Halloween is heavily influenced by Western practices, and has now found a niche in this part of Asia. While we are most unlikely to see children doing their rounds seeking candy alms, there will be many parties throughout the clubbing circles, as each outlet looks to maximise profits on a day catered more towards costume-dressers and horror buffs.

Seeing as not everyone here is familiar with what a pumpkin looks like, or what exactly ghouls and witches and zombies are, I've decided to shortlist some local 'celebrities' who are equally as menacing, if not more. I emphasise 'shortlist'; there are dozens of creepy creatures wandering about in the still of the night, some of them prominent, while others maintain a low profile in the public eye. Those that I mention below are the more common apparitions, often playing the part of the antagonist in most horror stories and true account renditions.

Toyol: Malaysia's enfant terible. The toyol looks like a child, with red eyes and sharp claws. It has only one purpose - to steal and give the loot to its master. A supernatural Oliver Twist, if you will. With a twist, of course. It must be fed blood, or it'll start turning against its master and the unfortunate individual's family. Occasionally it fancies a pet or two for a snack. One of the reasons why women are strongly discouraged from disposing soiled sanitary pads indiscriminately in toilets is due to this little dude's tendency to view it as a delicacy. There's nothing more heart-wrenching, literally, than sitting on your throne, accompanied by a toyol happily munching on a used pad.

Pontianak: Every guy's wet dream, literally. One night with this hot sexy babe will leave you soaking wet, in your own blood. The pontianak appears as a comely, coy chick, swaying her hips as the whiff of frangipani announces her arrival. Her attractiveness masks a malevolent spirit, a woman who died while giving birth. Seeking vengeance, she scours almost every known part of civilisation, seeking her unsuspecting victims. The only way to stop this femme fatale is to hammer a nail into her head. Once properly nailed, she remains in her foxy lady persona until the nail is removed. Her favourite hangout joint is the banana tree, and many claim to have snared a pontianak by tying red thread around the tree.

Orang Minyak: A real smooth criminal. Covered from head to toe in oil, this despicable villain sneaks into houses and deflowers virgins. Or at least, that's how the legend goes. Having made a pact with the Devil, the Orang Minyak (which literally means Oil Man) uses his oilyness to rob, rape and escape. He can only be stopped when he's forcefully wrapped in batik, followed by some courageous soul biting off the slickster's finger. Due to the drastic drop in oil prices, incidents involving the Orang Minyak have increased tenfold.

Penanggalan: Now this is one freaky woman. She gives head, and I mean, some serious blood-curdling head. A penanggalan is a midwife who's signed a deal with, yes you guessed it, the capital D. When she's in action, her head detaches and flies around, with her entrails in tow. Having broken one of the conditions in her pact, she is doomed to roam around, seeking vengeance for her predicament. She is especially known to haunt homes where childbirth is taking place, sending out her long tongue to suck the blood from the mother or child. She also has a fine eye for the placenta. When a person's blood is consumed by the penanggalan, the victim suffers a wasting disease and more often than not, dies. As with most foul creatures, she clocks in after dark; her comatose body is often stored in a big jar of vinegar in order to preserve it. Hence, during the day, she can be identified by a strong body odour, no prizes for guessing how it smells like. Some say a penanggalan midwife can also be identified by the way she relishes the sight of blood during labour. Many houses in remote villages tend to have strands of thorns lining the windows and doors, which trap the entails of any penanggalan making an illegal entry. Other preventive measures include finding and hiding the creature's body, or filling the insides with crushed glass. Ouch!

Jenglot: Think Puppet-Master. This doll-like abomination with a constantly bad hair day is one mean customer. Yet another blood sucking spirit, this vicious little creature can be fond almost anywhere, which doesn't exactly us corporeal beings feel safe at night. More often than not, it it bound to a master, who uses it to do his or her bidding. Salary comes in the form of blood, though the jenglot doesn't have to physically drink from a victim. These creatures are quite famous in museums which exhibit supernatural stuff, and some owners even rake in money taking their 'pets' on tour.

Langsuir: A close relation of the pontianak, the langsuir is bad news. Hideous when in action, this creature which appears during the day as a beautiful woman (surprise surprise) sucks the life force of a victim from the inside. Once in, it only leaves when the host is dead. Its vengeful nature is said to have stemmed from the fact that at one time, the langsuir-to be suffered the loss of its child during labour, and went through a long period of sickness itself. A parasite of sorts, this banshee is one probably the most feared villain of the piece.

Hantu Kum-Kum: A victim of vanity, the hantu kum-kum can only find peace once it has drained the blood of a certain number of virgins. Legend has it that the hantu kum-kum was once a fair maiden who harboured ambitions of being the fairest in the land. A dark being gave her what she sought, on the condition that she not so much as glance at a mirror for ten days (period varies from one society to another). And yes, she decided to look at her newfound beauty on the last day of her 'probation' period. The mirror cracked, and all she saw was a hideously, deformed face staring right back at her. She ran to the nearest shaman, who told her the only cure lay in the blood of nubile virgins. And thus the bloodthirsy hantu kum-kum began her rounds. The term 'kum-kum' apparently refers to her greeting when she's at the victim's doorsteps. Reported to be wearing a hijab or tudung, she must be first welcomed in the house in order to feast on her unfortunate quarry. Upon entry, she'd lift her hijab/ tudung and lo and behold, one less virgin in the world.

Hantu tetek: Dolly Parton mammaries, on Elizabeth Taylor. Get the picture? This big-chested spirit, in the guise of an old lady, hunts down children at night, targetting those playing outside their houses or on the lanes and paths in both towns and villages. She is known to grab her victims, before hiding them in the vast expanses of her bosom. And that's the last you'd hear of the unfortunate kids. Rumours of a hantu tetek in any given neighbourhood tend to spread like wildfire, and for several weeks, there'd be no sight of young ones in the playgrounds and gardens as dusk approaches.

Pelesit: These devious spirits are used by womenfolk as a form of protection and malice. These dark women use pelesits not only to protect themselves, but to also harm rivals or enemies. These spirits are more than willing to do their mistresses' bidding, provided they get their daily 'meals' and the chance to wreak havoc. At the same time, the mistress is also required to provide some of her own blood to sate the cravings of her 'bodyguard'. It is known to take the form of a grasshopper, especially when out on it's owner's bidding. Hence in some villages, whenever a grasshopper is trapped, its head is snapped off in order to send it back to the perpetrator.The pelesit must be continuously be taken care of by its owner, and therein lies the danger. It has to be passed down through the generations; sometimes the subsequent owner is unaware that she is privy to the services of this creature. If there is a break in the chain of inheritance, the pelesit not only takes revenge on its owner, but also on the owner' family.

So there you have it, folks. Our very own local celebrities, each infamous in its own right. I mentioned earlier that there are many other foul fiends that deserve honourable mention and these include the harimau jadian, poncong, hantu raya, puaka and bunian. I'm no Peter Vincent, and I don't intend to be one. So if you're interested in any of the creatures I've written about, or would like to know more about those that I haven't, one word: Google. Plenty of information out there, especially for those of you not familiar with Malaysian supernatural stars. And you might even get to see some images of them; I know for sure there's a website with a picture of an allegedly trapped jenglot.

Happy Halloween, mwahahahahahahaha...(sinister laugh fades into the background).

liberation, at a price

I had an epiphany last night.

I accepted the fact that I've been burying latent emotions beneath layer upon layer of delusion, suppression, regret and guilt; for many years, at that. It's like a plug in a hole; remove the former and everything comes pouring out, a trickle at first, followed closely by a gush of pent-up feelings. On saying that, it was almost matter-of-factly, how I stripped the festering layers that bandaged my psyche; coupled with the occasional thousand yard stare. My emotional priorities have changed, overnight, and I'm mildly taken aback that it's taken me this long to see things more clearly, and perhaps more rationally as well.

It's not so much as being emo but rather, it's understanding why the emotions linger. Above all, I don't feel the need to justify them any more. That's the way it is, live with it, and if you don't like it, then there's the nearest exit. The devil may care; I care even less. If I'm happy, then I will laugh; I don't need a reason to be happy. And if I'm distraught, then I will despair till I can despair no more, for only then can I say I've addressed what I feel.

I'm being rather disjointed, admittedly. But emotions themselves are swirling colours that spiral in and out of the heart, and such cannot be penned as easily as, say, a book review.

So how does this self-proclaimed enlightenment allow sight of the path ahead? For starters, I've learnt to accept. Acceptance of the loneliness within. Loneliness is categorised by three types - situational, developmental dan internal; I'm strongly contending all three categories. And this has been a constant membranous layer enveloping my mind and heart for more than twenty years. Many a time I've felt lonely in a group, more so in a crowd. But it's never been permanent, for I've continuously wrestled it into submission with companionship, conversations and a circle of friends. Yet it always returns to rear its head, at the slightest given opportunity. In my current vulnerability, it has gained a foothold.

And thus, yet another battle begins.

top of the singles' chart

So do I really want to stay single for ages?

That question distinctly implies that I have choice, doesn't it? "Yeah okay, I don't want to be single, whoop, here's my woman." I'm still tip-toeing around this forlorn, lonely planet called Singledom. It is a bleak kingdom, one without colour, ruled by the harsh King Loneliness. A land painted grey, devoid of life. Oops, slid into DM mode there.

Very well, I'll dispense with the theatrics. But the gist, the essence of my lamentation remains. Being single is so bloody boring. With a capital B; boring, that is. Why is that? Why do many people rejoice in breaking the chains of couplehood? They revel in their newfound freedom, released from the shackles that bound them to the monotony of monogamy.

(shudder) This is without doubt the longest stretch of singleness that I've endured in the past 15 years. Damn, now that piece of statistic amazes even me. Have I become so accustomed to having someone that I've absolutely no inkling on how being single works? I think so. Uh-oh, waves of palpitations are building up; i sense a bombardment of my recently-improved psyche. Breathe, fool, breathe. Repeat this: I will not be single for more than six months, I will not be single for more than six months. Dammit, six months is but a month away, give or take a week. Hope springs eternal, yet there's a rocky road and couple of chasms between hope and reality. And throw in a forest or two for good measure. Really need to have a D&D session soon.

Actually, it's not that I'm desperate or anything. Woe betide anyone who dares imply otherwise. It's more like, I can't stand loneliness. Sigh, okay, I've admitted it. So there, once in a blue moon and all that. Being lonely has always been foreign to me; now it's like close kin. And loneliness has brought a host of other unwanted imps with it, namely boredom, listlessness, tepidity.

"At first I was afraid, I was petrified."

Sometimes I feel there's a supernatural malevolent cat stalking me; it almost always launches itself at my tongue when I try to strike up a conversation with a quarry of interest. And mangles it beyond recognition. As things are, it takes me just over a decade to even approach a woman; the period is usually halved if there's sufficient alcohol flowing through my much-narrowed veins. Think Darcy, bereft of Victorian-esque charms. An awkward hello, a mundane piece of vocal contribution, a tense silence, a quick fiddle of the handphone, and it's Houston, we've lost contact. To a tee.

Then there are days when I walk on sunshine. Confidence is sky high, charm out of this world. A swirl of the glass, a flick of the cigarette, and an eye on proceedings. The end result tends to be the same, but yeah, like I said, confidence is sky high. You can't take that away from me.

But all in all, singlehood isn't exactly how I envisioned it would pan out to be. When attached, suddenly there's a party every weekend, you get plenty of flirtatious talktime, and life's generally a blast everywhere except in your relationship. You go solo, and everything disappears into thin air, compatriots who vowed to paint the town red with you have all of a sudden taken vows with someone else, and you're more often than not the proverbial third wheel in nearly all outings. You're consigned to the 'singles' tables at dinners and weddings, and asked constantly about plans to tinker the wedding bells. Right, I plan to get married, that's why I'm sitting with all the other singletons. Idiot alert.

Pre-New Year Resolution # 7: By hook or by crook, I'm bringing a date for the next function/ dinner/ reception/ wedding I attend. Even if it's some random stranger.

Yeah.