a work of autobiographical fiction dedicated to the memory
of my late ex mother-in-law, Puan Sri Asmah Mansor, whose
brilliant idea this exorcism was in the first place
It was a hot Sunday afternoon. I was having a nap after a heavy lunch at my in-laws' house in Jalan Setiaraya when I was rudely awakened. Six strange men were upon me, one holding down each limb and another who put a black hood over my head. I had just enough time to catch a quick glimpse of their leader, an elderly man wearing a battered songkok, who kept circling us, taking care not to be seen by me.
"Siapa Dalam?" the leader, whom I took to be the bomoh-in-charge, asked me repeatedly. This time he had come around so that he was just next to my right ear.
I figured I ought to appease him and say something plausible.
"Azlan," I answered, truthfully.
"Jangan tipu, siapa dalam?" he retorted.
"Boy, the truth is certainly not what he's looking for," I thought. He clearly wanted some demon in me to answer him. But honestly, there were no demons lurking in the labyrinths of my psyche, just me. I decided to play some reverse psychology on him and decided to keep answering him with just a simple "Azlan."
"Siapa dalam? Saya cabar kau, keluar sekarang!" he shouted.
"Boy, is he going to be disappointed," I thought. I decided to stay cool and recited the Al-Fatihah in a soft, but slow and steady voice...
"Bismillah Irrahman Irrahim. Alhamdulillah Irrabbil Alamin..."
"Siapa dalam?" he asked again, this time with some frustration setting in. At some stage, about an hour into the proceedings they removed the hood and I could see my sisters- and brothers-in-laws sitting around me watching the goings-on like some kind of bizarre spectator sport.
"The bastards," I thought as they just sat there as if brutal assailants performing an exorcism were part and parcel of their weekend. Needless to say, they hardly lifted a finger to help me. My wife had gone downstairs, too distressed, to observe the proceedings of this bizarre spectacle.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, the bomoh gave up, and told my mother-in-law, "Baik bawak dia pergi hospital."
My assailants helped me up and hand-cuffed me ("Were they policemen?" I asked myself). I was bundled onto an orange Mitsubishi Gallant and driven to University Hospital. At one point, somewhere along Jalan Damansara, I felt like putting my hands over the driver's head and strangling him, but thought the better of it.
At UH, they took me through to see a medical officer, Dr John Teoh, but not before one of them gave me a punch in the left eye, the bastards. It made a percussive impact that sent sparks and stars flying in my head. I was sure Dr Teoh saw them punch me but he remained outwardly oblivious. Even when I complained to him of the "police brutality" he remained unconcerned and dismissive. He didn't seem interested in anything I had to say and was clearly more interested in what "the policemen" had to say.
But what do they know? Besides my name, I didn't give them anything.
It was at this point that I gave Dr Teoh his nickname, "The Bastard."
Soon I found myself in Ward 5, restrained to a bed as I was obviously not in favour of spending any more time in this nuthouse and wanted to go home.
Eventually, I spent about a month in Ward 5. I couldn't get along with Dr Teoh for obvious reasons and a lecturer, Dr Goh, who had much more empathy, took over my case.
As expected, I was heavily sedated and my regime consisted of 250 mg chlorpromazine, 10 mg haloperidol four times a day with some benzhexol to counter some of the worst side-effects of these medications.
Years later, I asked my ex mother-in-law why she had commissioned this exorcism, she said she realised I was sick and the only way she knew how to get me well was through this (aborted) exorcism. As her motive was sincere, I forgave her. As for her children who thought this was a bizarre form of spectator sport, I cursed them while I being tortured. One is on the brink of perpertual bankruptcy while the other's husband ran off with a GRO after he got the GRO pregnant. The moral here ~ powerful forces are unleashed when one physically restrains a psyche in turmoil, some of these forces are unseen.
Copyright 2003-2004 Azlan Adnan Legal Notice
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