MAGIC OF LAT
The festive mood reminds Alan Teh Leam Seng of his schoolmates who depended heavily on pre-recorded Aidil Fitri songs and Lat cartoons to help soothe their Raya blues when studying abroad
HARI Raya is finally here and the festive mood permeates everywhere you go. Indeed, festive songs from the likes of Datuk Sharifah Aini, Datuk Sudirman Haji Arshad and Tan Sri P. Ramlee have been blaring from the radio and mall speakers for days now, creating just the right atmosphere for Raya. Those of us lucky enough to spend this annual festival with our loved ones often take things for granted and only realise what we’re missing when we’re all alone abroad.
Each year, I meet my former Sultan Abdul Hamid College classmates for our Raya get-together. One thing’s for sure, they never fail to talk about their university days, cooped up in their dormitory rooms in some far flung corner of world. The dreary feeling of homesickness intensified each time Aidil Fitri drew near.
Back in the late 1970s and early 1980s, Malaysian students abroad who couldn’t return home to celebrate the arrival of Syawal with their loved ones had to settle for pre-recorded festive songs played out on their walkman headphones.
Apart from those precious cassette tapes, the students also fell back on nostalgic cartoons drawn by Datuk Mohammad Nor Mohammad Khalid or better known as Lat. His early works, compiled into publications like Lots of Lat
(1977) and Lat’s Lot (1978) helped, to a certain extent, soothe their cravings for
dodol, ketupat and rendang as they allowed nostalgia to satiate their longing for all things familiar.
EARLY BEGINNINGS OF A CARTOONIST
Despite already being a talented cartoonist during his school days, Lat’s early working life wasn’t associated with his artistic skills. Moving to Kuala Lumpur after his Senior Cambridge examinations, Lat first applied for a cartoonist’s position at Berita Harian but was told that there was no vacancy available.
Instead, he was offered a crime reporter’s position by the editor, Abdul Samad Ismail. Lat accepted the offer out of necessity as he had become his family’s sole breadwinner following his father’s serious illness. At the same time, Lat was contented that he could still pursue his passion during his free time by contributing to other publications.
The criminal assignments gave Lat the unique opportunity to observe and interact with people from all walks of life in the city. His eye for detail quickly made him realise that these experiences would one day become excellent materials for his cartoons.
Unfortunately, the same cannot be said of Lat’s crime reporting career. He felt dejected when his detailed, lurid and graphically gory reports were frequently toned down by his seniors. This led him to believe that he was a failure and he eventually tendered his resignation. Samad, who always felt that Lat had a bright future with the press, furiously rejected his request.
Lat’s big break came when the Hong Kong-based Asia Magazine published his work on Bersunat, a compulsory circumcision ceremony for all Malay boys, on Feb 10, 1974. The cartoons caught the eye of Tan Sri Lee Siew Yee, editor-in-chief of the New
Straits Times, who found Lat’s portrayal of the important ceremony humorous yet sensitive.
After a brief meeting in Lee’s office, Lat was handed a newly-created position — cartoon columnist. His first assignment was to document the Malaysian, way of life in a series of cartoons called Scenes of Malaysian Life.
MALAYSIAN FOLK HERO
Around that time, the New Straits Times sent Lat for a four-month course at St Martin’s School of Art in London to gain exposure on English editorial cartoons. Lat’s return was marked by a complete revamp of his existing work. Readers lauded the change and by the end of 1975, Lat was appointed full-time cartoonist with total freedom in his work.
By then, Lat was already considered a true Malaysian folk hero by many of his fans, including those from across the causeway. In 1979, the overflowing crowds in Kuala Lumpur that mobbed him during the autograph-signing session which coincided with the road show launch of his third book, The Kampung Boy, further attested to his growing popularity.
In Johor Bahru, the cartoonist was locked up in a van for his own safety while the police tried to calm his legions of adoring fans. Unperturbed by all the attention, Lat eventually obliged autographhunters with his trademark signature on their scraps of paper, handkerchiefs, teeshirts and copies of his latest book.
Over in Singapore, where he expected a much quieter reception, Lat was very much taken aback when he was once again besieged by hundreds of fans at three book stores where he signed his books. Schoolboys, office girls, matrons, young executives and even well-heeled men and women all scrambled to get near him.
At that moment, it finally dawned upon Lat that he had an equally strong following in the Lion City compared to those back in Malaysia. The Kampung Boy proved to be so popular in Singapore that it remained at the No.1 position of the Times Bestseller list for five consecutive weeks.
Lat was feted everywhere he went as his fans were grateful to him for providing them with hours of unadulterated fun. To his readers, the cartoonist was a person who managed to show them how to look at the funny side of almost everything in life. At the same time, they were also equally curious about Lat’s early childhood and his experiences that led to the numerous side splitting drawings found in The Kampung Boy.
THE JOURNEY
Lat was born on March 5, 1951 in the little village of Kota Baru, located right in the heart of Perak’s renowned Kinta Valley. His father was a government clerk with the Malaysian Armed Forces and his mother was a housewife.
Most of his early childhood was spent playing in the jungles, plantations and tin mines with his friends. Their toys were usually improvised from daily materials and things that they could salvage from Mother Nature. At home, Lat liked to doodle, read comics and watch television.
As a growing child, Lat was a stocky boy with a cute cherubic face. This led his family members to nickname him Bulat (round). His friends then shortened it to just Lat and that name stuck with him ever since.
At age nine, Lat began to supplementing his family’s income through his artistic skills. He drew comics and sold them to his friends. Four years later, in 1964, the young cartoonist saw his work published for the first time in a local movie magazine,
Majallah Filem. He was paid with movie tickets for his efforts.
By the time he left school in 1970, Lat had already published his first comic book, Tiga Sekawan and started a comic strip,
Keluarga Si Mamat for Berita Minggu (the Sunday edition of Berita Harian). Yet, no matter where he went, the life that Lat left behind in his hometown always remained close to his heart.
This fact was proven true when I recently found an interesting article in the 1976 issue of the New Straits Times Annual. Written by Lat himself, the piece entailed his return to Kota Baru after a lapse of 14 years. That visit must have been very important to Lat as he drew all the accompanying cartoons in full colour. This was a rare occurence considering that a majority of his artistic creations had all been in black and white.
While he expressed his initial relief to find that most things had remained largely the same, Lat eventually discovered that nothing, not even his beloved village, could withstand the ravages of time. Kota Baru then was only a single street town, flanked on both sides by blocks of weather-beaten timber shop houses. The nearby stalls selling ice balls were still around and the sight of children enjoying the syrup-soaked treat brought back fond memories for Lat.
NOSTALGIC MEMORIES
The cartoonist felt a tinge of disappointment when he found out that the juke box in the Indian coffee shop was gone, wrecked by several village boys a few years back. That machine had sentimental value as it had introduced Lat and his friends to rock and roll.
Lat also tried looking for one of his closest childhood friends but discovered that so much had changed that they could no longer recognise each other. Then, he went in search of Ismail, his former ‘partner-in-crime’. The duo used to earn a little cash stealing tin by dulang washing at a nearby mine. Their clandestine missions often ended abruptly when their act was discovered by the security guards. After searching for some time, Lat eventually found Ismail. He was working as a security guard at the very mine where they used to steal from!
After meeting up with his former religious teacher who still generously gave his fellow villagers free rides in his jalopy, Lat decided to head back to Kuala Lumpur. He left with a heavy heart after watching the tin mines fill the once crystal clear streams around his village with mud and dirt.
Lat professed that Kota Baru had become the victim of the howling beast of progress. To further underline his grief, Lat drew a tin dredge and made it look like a ghastly monster, munching up the beauty of his beloved village.
This basis of portraying things associated with his own experiences stood Lat in good stead throughout his career. So, when questioned regarding a dearth of cartoon strips related to Singapore despite the huge following he enjoyed there, Lat simply replied that he didn’t know the place and the people there well enough and didn’t want to draw cartoons that made him look phoney.
To further illustrate his point, Lat actually visited a local chapati shop and chatted with the owner when he wanted to do a cartoon strip on Sikh weddings. There, he received a tip off about a nuptial happening at a nearby temple that Sunday. Needless to say, Lat immediately made plans to gatecrash the event. Luckily no one noticed him and the adventure turned out to be one of the best pieces of work he had created!
WORKS THAT RESONATE
Among the reasons why people could relate to Lat’s cartoons was because he constantly made sure his characters were always recognisable. His chettiars were always in their vesi and black umbrellas while the Chinese towkay was never without his abacus and thick rimmed spectacles.
In that same manner, I’m sure his drawings, which were related to Hari Raya celebrations always brought smiles to his fans. Who can forget his piece showing a
makcik embracing modern technology while preparing ketupat using a lap top and printer? Or the group of children balancing precariously on the roof of their kampung house, peering up to the heavens with a telescope, trying hard to spot the new moon heralding the arrival of Ramadan?
I’m sure Lat spoke on behalf for many husbands when he drew a spouse having a terrible nightmare involving his wife’s massive shopping spree. She bought so much until a forklift had to be used to transport her purchases.
In 1980, Lat made the prediction that he only saw himself working for another five years before the public got fed up with his creativity and didn’t want him anymore. Today, 38 years on, the book shop that I recently visited still has shelves filled with reprints of all his famous work.
It’s also interesting to note that the people browsing through the books are actually young kids, those born long after Lat said his popularity would wane. This just goes to show that the magic of Lat isn’t going to disappear any time soon. In fact, I’m sure we’ll cherish his cartoons for a long time to come.