Zubir Said, the Composer of Majulah Singapura

6. 190A Joo Chiat Place: A Sanctuary of Bliss and Blessed Woes

Chapter 6 190A Joo Chiat Place: A Sanctuary of Bliss and Blessed Woes rb111313_iseas_zubir_layout_c6_v5.indd 96 13/9/12 11:02 AM It Was Not the Place. It Was Where the Musical Hearts Were In 1956 we moved house again. The Indonesian Club had closed. We moved to a three-bedroom flat, but occupied only two bedrooms. One room was Uncle Dahari’s room. Through the kindness of Uncle Dahari, my father’s musician friend, we were able to share the flat with him, therefore cutting rental costs. Uncle Dahari was the father of Kartina Dahari, a veteran singer in Singapore who sang and popularized Papa’s song Sayang di Sayang, a song which has remained an evergreen and has been sung by many other singers. This flat at 190A Joo Chiat Place was on the first floor of a three-storey apartment building — one that taxi drivers recognized as rumah merah (red house). The flats were not really red, they were actually dark pink in colour. Ours was the corner unit, fronting the main Joo Chiat Place and Chiku Road, a side road. It had a large front balcony, my favourite spot, from where I watched the world pass me by: cars honking, lorries emitting lots of smoke, buses screeching their brakes, a small hotel across Chiku Road, and the PWD (Public Works Department) complex and quarters in front, across the main road. My family formed lasting friendships with some of these neighbours, especially those in Chiku Road, which was a short distance away. It seems incredible that more than fifty years have passed. Everything has changed dramatically except No. 190A, which has remained very much as I remember it. But the “world” that I watched is now only a lingering memory. As for the flat itself, I remember three rooms encircling the living area. There was a narrow passage between two adjacent rooms that led to the kitchen. There was no dining area. Though it was narrow, we were still able to place a long bureau, salvaged from the Indonesian Club, along this corridor. The small area at the end of this corridor, that was meant to be the kitchen, became our dining area. It was just big enough to fit in one small refrigerator and a cheap wooden dining table for six. In one corner of this was the bathroom; and next to it, the toilet; thankfully, it was not a bucket toilet as was the case in Lorong 33. My mother cooked on a single-burner kerosene stove perched on a makeshift top. A simple cupboard was squeezed into whatever space was available in front of the shower area and toilet. The kitchen, shower area and toilet measured only Opposite: 190A Joo Chiat Place where memories are made. A view from Chiku Road. 190A Joo Chiat Place: A Sanctuary of Bliss and Blessed Woes 97 rb111313_iseas_zubir_layout_c6_v5.indd 97 13/9/12 11:02 AM approximately 8×8 feet. Beyond this was a narrow spiral staircase that led to the bottom of the stairs, out the back door and into the alley below where we placed our rubbish in a dustbin. Simple, basic, almost spartan, but this was our home. Here, at 190A Joo Chiat Place were the happenings — both joyous and sad. Uncle Dahari, whose first wife had long passed away, remarried a young, pretty woman. They soon moved to their own place elsewhere. How happy Papa must have been to have his very own “studio” at last — the room that was vacated by Uncle Dahari. The grand piano,1 a gift from the Indonesian Club, occupied half this room. Another identical wooden bureau, the same as that along the corridor, lined one wall of the “studio”, which Papa filled with papers, files and other paraphernalia. There was also a steel cabinet. He was surrounded by musical instruments: violin, guitar, angklung, drums, rebana, flutes and many more, and, of course, the small ukulele. There were two mahjong tables right in the middle of the room; on these lay his current works: sheets of musical scores, stationery and his pipes. Though an organized man, he was not very tidy. His working tables were cluttered but to him they were an organized mess because he knew where everything was. So woe betide anyone who moved around his things. Papa’s modest studio was the noisiest part of the flat as it was just above the main...