Cahaya Ceris and The Case of the Keburas

Note: all words in bold italics are words that are in Malay or are related to Malaysia’s culture.

I opened my eyes and saw the vast plain of grass in front of me. The padi field seemed to stretch out
for miles and miles under the blazing Malaysian sun. How did I get here? Ah well come to think of it,
after I had helped that dying harimau Malaya I had felt nauseous. I must have knocked out. Does that
mean I am dreaming? But this environment seems so realistic. Now I am just confusing myself. I
pinched my arm hard and felt an agonizing shock run through my veins. I must be awake to feel pain.
Well enough of that. Maybe I should look around and try to go home to my nenek and satay. OMG!
My satay! Why oh why had I left my satay stand to try to save that dying tiger? Did the tiger kill me?
Am I in heaven? No, I don’t think heaven would be a padi field full of vibrant and perfume smelling
hibiscus. Ok time to think straight. I walked forwards as the padi brushed against my sun-burnt leg. A
hornbill called out in the distance. Suddenly a faint and wobbly voice called out from the grass. I
jumped back in shock, what small thing could be lurking in the grass and mumble? Surely not an
animal, maybe a tiny human? I felt something furry rub against my feet and whisper the words, “help
me. I fainted.
Once again, I rubbed open my eyes to see a pocket-sized tapir sitting on my leg. My tangled and
bushy hair brushed against my eyes. Huh? A tiny tapir? Now I must be dreaming. “Thank you for
saving me,” said the teeny tapir, making me realize it was the tapir who had said help earlier. Help?
How could I have helped a teeny-weeny tapir by fainting? “You killed the Malaysian pit viper that
was trying to eat me, after you decided to faint right smack on it,” said the tapir as if it had heard my
thoughts. “What? How are you talking?” I asked the tapir. “It’s just like that, all the Kerburas or
animals in this dimension are able to talk,” said the tapir in a knowing tone. “Dimension?” I asked the
tapir. “Yes, usually whenever someone helps a Kerbura they get to come here to receive their gift,”
said the tapir. The tiger was a Kebura? Maybe this wasn’t a bad thing. Maybe just maybe, the gift
would help me and my nenek so she wouldn’t have to sew kebayas for the wealthy and so I wouldn’t
have to sell satay under the blistering Malaysian heat.
After asking about how I could go back home and more, I had finally got an idea of what I was doing
in the Land of the Keburas I had to help the Keburas with their tasks and I could go home. However,
when I had asked about what my gift would be, the tapir simply said that it varies all the time. I began
walking with the tapir on my right shoulder and a hat that I had made from dying padi. After walking
past some mango trees and rambutan trees, at which I had picked juicy mangoes and ripened
rambutans from, I had come across a friendly looking orangutan that was stuck under a pile of rotten
mangoes. I moved away the rotten and foul-smelling mangoes and helped the orangutan up. It
thanked me and gave me a pearl.
My legs were sore after walking miles and miles to look for another task. Finally, I had found another
Kebura, this time it was a hornbill. A large net was stuck in its beak, and it was cooing for help. I
went and picked up the hornbill from the humongous rambutan tree it was stuck in and used a large
twig to free it’s beak from the net. I then helped it up and gave it some of the fresh and juicy mangoes
I picked earlier. The hornbill hopped on my shoulder and followed me as I walked towards what
seemed to be a water hole. Because I was parched and needed something to drink after hours of
walking, I went towards the watering hole and scooped up the ice-cold water in my cracked and
sunburnt hands. Suddenly, I saw something that looked like a log with sharp teeth emerge out of the
large watering hole. I shrieked loudly as I realized that, that so called ‘log’ was a enormous crocodile
that had bitten onto something hard and was bleeding badly.
Even though I was petrified of this large and tremendous crocodile I gave it a mango to bite on to
soothe his gums. The simple and sweet taste of mango juice erupted through the crocodile’s mouth
and suddenly, it stopped bleeding. The blood that had seeped into the watering hole had become grape
juice that looked refreshing and scrumptious. I drank up the grape juice and gave some to the tapir
and hornbill. The hornbill suddenly flew off as I noticed that long and dark vines were creeping up
my thighs and dragging me into the deep and dark watering hole.
I slowly opened my eyes once more to see fairy lights, a desk as well as a bookshelf. Then I realized
that I was at home in my soft and cozy bed. How did I get here I thought? The first thing I did was
pick up my phone and check my Instagram, but next to my pink phone was a iridescent pearl that
glimmered in the morning sun. So, what had happened? Was it just a dream or did I meet the
Keburas? I took the pearl in my hand and rubbed it on my palm, a shimmering substance rubbed off
the pearl revealing a hidden message engraved on the pearl. It read “Thank you for visiting the
Keburas, take this pearl to your grandma she should know,” I wondered what this had to do with my
nenek as I read through this.
I handed the paper to my nenek, and she stared at it and touched it with her Bidayuh necklace that
was round and seemed to glow in her hands. She then took off her necklace and told me her story.
Apparently when you get teleported to the realm of the Keburas it means that you are a guardian of
Malaysia or one of the few descendants of Tunku Abdul Rahman, meaning that you must guard
Malaysia and stand by its national anthem with pride and joy in your eyes. You must weave the
thread of culture through the Malaysian culture and uphold that, for my family was a Malaysian
family. We must stand by our country through thick and thin for the Keburas are a reminder of who
we are. Now, you might be asking, what? What in the world has the Keburas got to do with
Malaysia’s legacy? Well ill tell you.
The tiger or harimau Malaya is famous for being our country’s national animal and for representing
the strength and bravery in our Malaysian blood. The tiger is a majestic and beautiful animal and
serves as a reminder to all Malaysians that even though we might be a small country. An example
being of how the Malaysian football team entered the 1980 Summer Olympics, and even though we
didn’t win our bravery had shone through the pride of winning. The tapir is a ‘living fossil’ meaning
that Malaysians are one of a kind and we have a culture that will last for centuries. From our nasi
lemak to the classic roti chanai or Hari Raya festivities, all aspects of being a Malaysian is unique.
The orangutan symbolizes how we need to keep our culture alive for others by being Malaysian and
staying true to our country. It also symbolizes persistence, intelligence, and wisdom because of the
way an orangutan acts like a human. The orangutans are dying, and our culture will die too if we
don’t keep it alive by continuing to pass traditions down and holding the same celebrations every
year. Lastly, the crocodile symbolizes the old ways or the orang asli people. They have been here
much longer than we have and are true to their country and practice old traditions that are no longer
practiced by many. The orang asli may not be the best at technology or be updated on what the new
trend on TikTok is, but they are one of the many people who are helping to keep our culture alive. We
can all refer to these Malaysian animals during hard times to help bring out our Malaysian spirit.
These animals are all just animals really but can serve as a reminder that all Malaysians are unique,
and we will always stand by our national anthem with pride and glory in our hearts as we remember
that we will always be a Malaysian.