AS the whole nation was sent into distraction by the wild goose Malaya-centred debacle about blended whisky and Malay womanhood, the bumigeoisie elites carried on business-as-usual.

I kept my peace because I felt there was already enough knowledgeable and rational retorts, which are encouraging.

There was also the gut feeling that this was just another typical distraction method by the hegemony from addressing more pressing matters, something we are accustomed to in the land of truly Asia.

The late great (and truly Malaysian) poet/writer Salleh Ben Joned coined the term ‘bumigeoisie’ to refer to the Malay elite and their pretentiousness.

Although not fully fleshed and articulated in any of his writings (he mentioned the term in interviews allegedly), this term is apt to understand what is going on in Malaysia right now and the preceding decades leading up to the narrow path we are heading.

Malays have forgotten and lost their laidback and cosmopolitan roots, and all we have now is coarse ideologies spit out from the bumigeoisie elites, dressed in pretentious, shallow simulacra of piety.

There are many other reasons why I didn’t weigh in on the whole whisky-Malay womanhood debate. Another is that as an ethnic Malay, who finds the history of whisky intriguing (key word is “history” here), I felt incredibly insulted by the Malay politicians who were supposedly speaking on my behalf and “shielding” the gullible ummah.

Give me a break.

When I had the opportunity a couple years back to travel to the UK (the promised land of sophistication and class for most wannabe aspiring bumigeioisie) for only the second time in my adult life, I made it a point to make my way up to Scotland – the historical heartland of the ‘water of life’.

I am often intrigued by things that I am not allowed to do. The allure of the forbidden, as they say, and I want to understand why it’s forbidden and its allure.

Rock n’ roll is one of the obvious examples. Pop yeh yeh, which is well appreciated now, was seen as a scourge by Malay adults and elites of the time.

I enjoy prying the thin membrane of excuses by so-called elites that pass off as their authority over others. Oftentimes, pry long enough you’ll find out it’s all just hot air and hearsay.

Anyway, I digress. Back to my water of life adventure: as I boarded the train to the north of the island towards Edinburgh, I was taken aback by the vivid green hills and the pastoral farmlands with serene quaint farmhouses that rolled past my view as we crossed the Scottish border – the source of all things decadent and evil to the bumigeoisie, if you believe everything they say.

Surely, I was an interloper, a spy, an undercover Malay agent crossing the enemy line into dangerous territory where no Bumi dares to tread? I must telegram headquarters!

Of course, I wasn’t. I was a mere mortal, a wayfaring Melayu stranger in a strange land, making a pilgrimage to the mystical land of uisge beatha, Braveheart and Trainspotting. A land I had only seen and experienced in popular media, of which I was very sure was just the tip of the iceberg of what its people were really about.

Mind you, I only had about 48 hours or so to discover Scotland, so I had to pick my battles. After checking into the Airbnb (the owner was a lovely emigrant Indian lady), I headed straight to the Scottish Whisky Experience, which was a stone’s throw from the Edinburgh Castle, the more typical attraction which I’m sure would top most travelling bumigeoisie itinerary.

Not once did it occur to me that I was walking through the decadent den of Satan’s piss – whisky is tied to Scottish polity, history and culture.

While oftentimes I harboured the desire to inoculate myself from the “bebalism” (another apt term coined by the late great Syed Hussein Alatas) that accompanies most bumigeoisie public discourses, I find pleasure in resisting the idea of throwing in the towel and let out a resigned sigh instead.

Much ado about nothing over what is essentially water and life is too short to yak about with what Malays call “cakap kosong”.

In fact, one must be like water, my friend, as the late great Bruce Lee advised, for then you will flow and be a part of the water of life and nourish the bumi, I mean, the earth.

From which the cycle repeats and we nourish our parched selves. Let’s raise a toast to that instead, while the bumigeoisie aren’t looking.

Slàinte! – November 5, 2021.

* Azmyl Yunor is a touring underground recording artiste, and an academic in media and cultural studies. He has published articles on pop culture, subcultures and Malaysian cultural politics. He adheres to the three-chords-and-the-truth school of songwriting, and Woody Guthrie’s maxim “All you can write is what you see”. He is @azmyl on Twitter.

* This is the opinion of the writer or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of The Malaysian Insight. Article may be edited for brevity and clarity.