Ijok: Strings after gempur

The results have been announced. Behold, a two hundred increase in majority votes. The Barisan cheers have erupted. Moist Lips and Sleepy Hollow and Dark-to-Light are busy congratulating each other and thereafter patting their own backs, as strange a behaviour as it may be.

Half-the-Value has shown he's worth twice the price. That Car Thing will say he burned rubber at Batang Berjuntai. A merry Son-in-Law can now dismount from the uncomfortable kapcai. The photoshoot's done. A job well done.

And the carnival shall leave Ijok. And all shall be quiet at the Markas and the Bilik Geraks.

We have here a gentleman winner in Parthiban. A good guy, say many Ijokians. A wonderful smile that makes many a mother wish her daughter would snag. A legendary son who provided for his siblings, and educated himself via the Malaysian dream.

But wet blankets such as me have never been happy with fairytale endings per se. Happily ever after? Really, for that we have to turn to the yet-to-be-inked storyboard.

Of how a good man becomes a puppet - a morbid Pinnochio in reverse. As the strings are tied, one thread at a time, from favours owed leading to tonight's victory, of beholdenship and masters and servants.

Yea, the story will unfold in quiet Ijok away from the pesky eyes of unemployed women or bloggers. A string for Moist Lips, another for Sleepy Hollow, two for Half-the-Value, another two for Dark-to-Light... and on and on the parts of the body of this scholar gentleman shall be divided among his power investors. And the strings shall tug and slack in a strange Ramayana, and his legs will kick, and his head nod, and there'll be loud choruses along with "three bags full". And he will be rewarded, why even loved.

But the heart remembers. It will remember of a cloudy evening, April 28, before the announcement and the euphoria, when he was a truly good man with a brilliant smile. And most of all, it will definitely remember this: free will.

All the best, Parthiban. Sincerely. I pray it's just the sour grapes oozing from my pores.