PART 3
Chillax in a 3-toner. Singapore Armed Forces Day; circa 1991.
Fast forward more than fifteen years after making the television documentary about the Bawean diaspora in Singapore, the mysteries of my childhood and the lessons learned from my cultural heritage came to a head. I had been feeling unwell for months. It started as a series of minor ailments that I dismissed as the usual stresses of modern life and work.
Then, I was gaining nominations and winning television awards. My films were being selected to screen at many film festivals on all five continents, winning awards at a handful of them. My debut feature film was officially selected to represent Singapore at the 87th Academy Awards in the Best Foreign Language category (now renamed International Feature Film).
In the euphoria of the moment, I strangely started losing weight. Several months later, my health deteriorated further. I began losing my appetite, skipping meals, and my face structure changed. I found myself regularly shifting to find the right angles when taking pictures to hide my thinning body. I developed arthritis and didn't sleep well, with the urge to pee every half hour. On top of that, I had deep headaches and migraines at night until morning. During shoots, I would get exhausted very easily, which in turn gave me more migraines from not having enough sleep. I got cold very easily, even in mild air-conditioning while in the office or studio, on the bus or train, and in the supermarket getting groceries. There was a point during filming when my health was getting worse right before hospitalization, I had to wear a thick hoodie over a down shell from Uniqlo over a long-sleeve, thermal t-shirt. I had to visit the toilet every half an hour during filming. During interviews in a studio for behind-the-scenes elements for a national agency, I was short on words as I was forgetting what I wanted to say.
Perhaps my stint at the elite unit during National Service conditioned me with high threshold of pain.
During this difficult period, I was also filming a documentary series that took me to six countries in Asia. The constant travel and long hours took their toll during the intense three months of shooting and post-production. While dining in India - the land of spices and a thousand curries - it got depressing to watch hungry members of my production team savour the numerous curries and biryanis while I could only swallow one plain naan dipped in chicken curry. I had zero appetite. The sight of food made me nauseous. I was eating just for the carb and sugar. My lower legs were swollen with water retention. The last straw happened when I completely lost my train of thought during an interview with a profile from Malaysia in an episode of the same series. I was just going with rote questioning from the notes. At this period, I lost close to 20 kilograms. I was losing my mind.
I am still thankful to my producer, the filming crew, and the post-production team for keeping it together with me during the documentary production. This is on set family - a dedicated team that truly believe in your work and only wants success for the project.
In early 2017, I was feeling very, very sick. I could not seem to function. I dragged myself downstairs to take a taxi to the hospital. Private hire apps were not yet a thing back then. I had only one intention and it was clear – to get to A&E at the hospital. Whatever happened next, I left my fate to Allah, I thought. During registration at the emergency unit, I was rambling incoherently in response to questions. The next moment, I found myself waking up inside the unit. I fell unconscious again to find myself waking up with needles and pipes attached to my body.
I felt like I was floating, reminiscent of Major Motoko Kusanagi in the prostheses state in the anime, "Ghost in the Shell." I stayed in this state for one week. I spent my birthday in the hospital ward with a kind nurse who brought in a slice of cake. There was no birthday song as I ate the cake quietly.
The diagnosis was Systemic Lupus Erythematosus (SLE) or lupus. I was discharged nearly four weeks later. My body was responding well to therapy and medication. I started ultrarunning again five months later with my batchmates from First Company. I was also actively going to the gym as my body seemed to gain muscle mass very easily. Life seemed to return to normal. I was also happy to be on set for filming. But alas, the problem did not end there.
Around this time, I was filming a long-form drama series and a telemovie. Several individuals I had previously worked with on different productions were also involved in these productions. When production wrapped, my body spiralled into the same pain I had felt before my earlier hospitalization that year. Two months later, I was walking with crutches. The specialists at the hospital suggested that it was a result of side effects from the steroid prescription I was taking for the SLE. It caused the already brittle lower body bone densities to deteriorate further from running.
Deep down, Scully (of X-Files, the series) was adamant that it was just the damn side effects from Prednisolone. "You win some, you lose some," I thought. However, a chance conversation with a kind industry friend who showed considerable concern coaxed me to consult a wise person well-versed in entities of the sixth sense. It took much hesitation but I finally did when my condition went downhill.
What I heard from Wise Person shook me to my core - my pain was allegedly caused by disgruntled three persons from envy. They operated separately. Now I must add, I had not met Wise Person, nor did Wise Person know in detail about my work.
The first question asked: had my work been recognized on an international stage somewhere in 2014-15?
The second question asked: had I been involved in any major production/s recently where the three persons were directly attached? They were also linked to another major work I had been involved in before 2014-15.
Wise Person analysed that when I started work in the recent productions, the 3 persons observed I was doing well, got resentful at my health and subsequently attempted to break me. All they want was for me to literally lie in bed and rot, so to speak.
Finally, Wise Person gave me three random, yet very specific single names. I identified the alleged three individuals. Let's call them Labu 1-3.
Labu 1 promised to help with the film but pulled back last minute, only to agree later with an absurd offer. I decided his conditions was not worth a commitment. Labu 2 pulled back three weeks before production started with a preposterous excuse even after I handed them an advance that he requested. Labu 3, a veteran, badmouthed me within his own provincial circle while making a film that perhaps served his ego more than it served the community.
Wise Person advised the many tactics which a resentful person may act. I recall during production where the three of them were involved, Labu 1 curiously offered me a piece of banana during break fast. During the shoot, sample food packages were offered around on set to the cast and crew. I ordered one container of the food sample. I heard later that allegedly one cast member who bought a container of the food sample had her life in "disarray". Labu 3 was unusually overly friendly on set while he supplied the props for a funeral scene in the production. Labu 2? Well, I have yet to receive the money he owed me from the advance payment. I realised that it was unrealistic to cry over spilled milk. I have Halal-ed it.
Alas, Wise Person advised me to constantly be aware and present as Labu 1-3 may attempt to sneak in a pushback.
I do hope these persons - whoever they may be, wherever they are - find peace in their lives.
For me, it took the hard way with three alleged Pumpkinheads and about $50,000 in hospital bills to realize that finding a true friend in the industry is probably wishful thinking. The industry is a circus full of clowns and acrobats with misplaced egos. Amongst alligators it is always prudent to tread water wisely.
The evil eye exists. It has a coward smile and deceitful generosity. I wish I could be in that long-ago conversation with my father and the Bawean elders again to talk about my experience. I now understand how judgment and scepticism should not be too dominant during such conversations.
Additionally and very importantly, as expressed by the soft-spoken Pesantren head in Bawean Island, the deeds of a person are his own and not reflective of the community to which he belongs.
My encounter with the unseen forces that had plagued me became a transformative experience. This experience brought me closer to my cultural roots and deepened my understanding of Bawean beliefs. It was a reminder that our heritage is a vital part of who we are, shaping our perspectives and guiding us through life's challenges. It also reinforced the notion that there are many layers to health and well-being, some of which are beyond the reach of modern science. The Bawean traditions that I had once taken for granted or half ignored are now a cherished part of my identity, providing a foundation of strength and wisdom.
Allah knows best.
END.
