KUALA LUMPUR, May 4, 2026:
Innalillahi wainna ilaihi rojiun.
Jan 24, 2026 will always stay in my heart. It was the last time we met Husner.
We had lunch at Sate Samuri in Kajang; it felt like any other day. She loved satay and durians, and that afternoon, she quietly savoured both. Rasinah had brought the durians; Mafuzah was there with us too.
But Husner was unusually quiet. At that time, we didn’t think much of it. Only later did we realise… that was her way of saying goodbye.
Husner, 74, returned peacefully to her Creator in her sleep on a blessed Friday morning. We go back a long way — MassComm Class of 1977, UiTM Shah Alam. She was a broadcasting major and later served at RTM until her retirement.
Beautiful in her own way, with a fair complexion and a distinctive mole on her cheek, she reminded many of the late Saadiah, and had appeared in local dramas.
In our early career days after graduation, the three of us (Husner, Rasinah and I) shared a small rented place in Bangsar. Life wasn’t easy. We cooked simple meals: sardines, omelette, plain rice. Yet those were some of the happiest moments of our lives.
Time took us in different directions, but the bond never faded.
That last lunch… now feels so precious.
May Allah SWT grant you Jannah, dear Husner. You will always be remembered
Sunday, May 3, 2026
Songkran Lessons for Kuala Lumpur
KUALA LUMPUR, May 4, 2026: In recent years, the growing popularity of Songkran-style celebrations beyond Thailand has brought with it a vibrant mix of colour, music and, most visibly, water. But as such festivities make their way into urban centres like Bukit Bintang, an important question arises: are we celebrating culture, or merely replicating spectacle?
At its heart, Songkran is a deeply meaningful occasion. It marks the Thai New Year and is rooted in values of renewal, gratitude and respect. Traditionally, water is gently poured over Buddha statues and elders’ hands, symbolising the washing away of misfortune and the welcoming of new beginnings. It is as much a spiritual observance as it is a social one.
However, when transplanted into the context of Kuala Lumpur’s nightlife districts, the festival risks losing its essence. What often emerges instead is a high-energy, alcohol-fuelled “water rave,” an experience driven more by entertainment than cultural understanding.
This shift raises several concerns.
First, the issue of water usage cannot be ignored. Malaysia is no stranger to water supply challenges, with periodic disruptions and conservation campaigns reminding the public of the need to use this resource wisely. Against this backdrop, large-scale water-splashing events, often involving thousands of litres of treated water, may be perceived as excessive, if not irresponsible.
Second, there are questions of public order and safety. Bukit Bintang is already one of the busiest areas in the capital. Introducing mass water activities into such a dense environment increases the risk of accidents, from slippery pavements to traffic hazards. Experiences from other countries have shown that large, uncontrolled water festivals can sometimes lead to spikes in injuries and public disturbances.
Equally important is the social dimension. Malaysia’s multicultural and relatively conservative society places strong emphasis on mutual respect in public spaces. While festive interaction is welcome, the practice of splashing strangers, particularly without consent, may lead to discomfort or unintended boundary violations. This is compounded when celebrations are intertwined with excessive alcohol consumption, which can further erode decorum.
There is also the matter of cultural integrity. When stripped of its spiritual and familial elements, Songkran risks being reduced to a commercialised event — a spectacle devoid of its original meaning. Cultural appreciation should not come at the expense of authenticity.
None of this suggests that Malaysia should shy away from embracing regional traditions. On the contrary, cultural exchange enriches society and fosters regional understanding. But such celebrations must be adapted thoughtfully, in a way that aligns with local values, environmental realities and public safety considerations.
A more measured approach could see Songkran-inspired events held in controlled environments, with an emphasis on cultural education rather than unchecked revelry.
Ultimately, the goal should not be to imitate, but to understand. In doing so, Malaysia can celebrate diversity without compromising on responsibility.
At its heart, Songkran is a deeply meaningful occasion. It marks the Thai New Year and is rooted in values of renewal, gratitude and respect. Traditionally, water is gently poured over Buddha statues and elders’ hands, symbolising the washing away of misfortune and the welcoming of new beginnings. It is as much a spiritual observance as it is a social one.
However, when transplanted into the context of Kuala Lumpur’s nightlife districts, the festival risks losing its essence. What often emerges instead is a high-energy, alcohol-fuelled “water rave,” an experience driven more by entertainment than cultural understanding.
This shift raises several concerns.
First, the issue of water usage cannot be ignored. Malaysia is no stranger to water supply challenges, with periodic disruptions and conservation campaigns reminding the public of the need to use this resource wisely. Against this backdrop, large-scale water-splashing events, often involving thousands of litres of treated water, may be perceived as excessive, if not irresponsible.
Second, there are questions of public order and safety. Bukit Bintang is already one of the busiest areas in the capital. Introducing mass water activities into such a dense environment increases the risk of accidents, from slippery pavements to traffic hazards. Experiences from other countries have shown that large, uncontrolled water festivals can sometimes lead to spikes in injuries and public disturbances.
Equally important is the social dimension. Malaysia’s multicultural and relatively conservative society places strong emphasis on mutual respect in public spaces. While festive interaction is welcome, the practice of splashing strangers, particularly without consent, may lead to discomfort or unintended boundary violations. This is compounded when celebrations are intertwined with excessive alcohol consumption, which can further erode decorum.
There is also the matter of cultural integrity. When stripped of its spiritual and familial elements, Songkran risks being reduced to a commercialised event — a spectacle devoid of its original meaning. Cultural appreciation should not come at the expense of authenticity.
None of this suggests that Malaysia should shy away from embracing regional traditions. On the contrary, cultural exchange enriches society and fosters regional understanding. But such celebrations must be adapted thoughtfully, in a way that aligns with local values, environmental realities and public safety considerations.
A more measured approach could see Songkran-inspired events held in controlled environments, with an emphasis on cultural education rather than unchecked revelry.
Ultimately, the goal should not be to imitate, but to understand. In doing so, Malaysia can celebrate diversity without compromising on responsibility.
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