Valentine’s X’mas Party

Valentine’s X’mas and New Year parties were legendary. Everyone got invited. The invitations will begin several weeks before the day; everyone Valentine met during that time will be invited. Valentine was a lawyer, which meant that the clients he represented and their families and friends will all be invited. His Learned friends, whether on his or the other side of the case will be invited; so too the court interpreters and other officials. If he chanced upon a magistrate or judge outside the court, Valen would approach them in his most court courteous manner and request their presence at his humble home to celebrate X'mas Eve with him and his friends. Kickoff time 7.00PM, your Honour.

Valentine's office was not far from the courts but the walk to and fro will take you along the busiest street in Kuala Lumpur. Batu Road was the town’s main shopping centre before the advent of the large air-conditioned shopping centres that sprouted everywhere with prosperity. The long Batu Road stretched from the centre of the town to its border with the suburbs. Rows of shops fronted by a covered verandah lined both sides of the long street. Valentine knew everyone, from the shop owners to the shop assistants to the customers who shopped in them. They were all asked to come, don't forget kickoff at 7.00PM.

The staff at the office and their families were included. Friends, relatives, friends and relatives of friends and relatives were all told that he would be expecting them personally. Don’t disappoint me, kickoff at 7.00PM. Same went for all his clients, whether thieves, murderers or businessmen.

Eventually news about Valentine's party will take a life of its own and travel beyond those who received it firsthand. People hear about it from others and swear to be there as if it were a religious festival open to the public, which in a way it was. Must go to Valen's party man, I never miss a single one or, must go to Valen's party man, I missed the last one. What time ah? Kickoff at 7.00PM.

Then the day arrives. Kamala is frantic and angry. Valen cannot confirm the numbers, even on the morning of the day. Volunteers, who have come to help to cut the vegetables, kill the chickens, quarter the lamb, put up the marquee and clean the compound, are already into the booze. Kamala is Valentine's wife. Valentine is back from the market with a gunny sack full of live mud crabs and an assortment of fish, prawns, squids and the like which he stacks in the yard at the back of the kitchen. Don’t worry he tells Kamala, Kuppu is coming to cook the crabs. Just leave them in the sack until he arrives. Kuppu is a kitchen help in a local hotel. He moonlights at parties claiming skills that he hardly possesses. He is expected after he is off work 4.00 PM, three hours before kickoff time at 7.00PM. There are no instructions about all the other provisions Valen had brought.

Kamala summons help from her friends, family, passersby, anyone who will help.

5.00PM, two hours before kickoff time. The house is already full. Kuppu has to work overtime and will arrive late. The crabs are on a walkabout on the yard. The fish and prawns are forgotten. The marquee is raised even as the guests arrive. Already a dozen or so men are sprawled around the place, their party ending even before kickoff time at 7.00PM. One man is crawling around the compound as if searching for something.

What are you looking for? Someone asks him.

What? I lost something.

What?

I don’t know.

He continues searching as the guests arrive and the party gets underway well before kickoff time at 7.00PM.

Kickoff time is passed. Now the party is at its zenith. People eating, people drinking, people sleeping off the party before it has ended, blind musicians from the Association playing White Cristmas, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, Jingle Bells The noise is deafening. Countdown to X'mas is only minutes away.

There is a door that opens to the main hall of the house where most of the guests are mingling as in a railway station. The door has been shut for some time. It is Kamala’s mother’s room. She is eighty, hard of hearing and with a memory that is only as long as the last sentence uttered to her. Two hours ago she was persuaded to bed and the door shut. The door now flings open. Kamala’s mother stands at the doorway, her long hair frayed by sleep.

‘Valen’, she calls. Silence sweeps like a wave across the house, inside and out.

Valentine rushes to her.

‘Valen, what is happening?’

‘We are having a party.’ Valen is now holding her, trying to lead her back to the room.

‘A party?’ his mother in law shakes off his hold.

‘Yes, Aunty.’ Valen grins at the crowd for support.

‘Why?’

‘It’s Christmas Eve, Aunty.’

‘Christmas Eve?’

‘Yes, Aunty.’ He tries to lead her back to the room, but she is now standing firm in the middle of the hall and refuses to turn back. No one speaks.

‘Christmas Eve and you are not praying? On your knees, everyone.’ With one hand on Valen, she slowly kneels, holding on to the back of a chair as she does.

One by one everyone obeys, Christians, Buddhists, Muslims, Hindus, Heathens, everyone. Everyone inside and outside the house are all kneeling.

‘Hail Mary, full of grace. . .’

The prayers continue as the hour strikes midnight and another Christmas is upon us.