Harris bin Potter and The Stoned Philosopher

Chapter 2: The Sorting Songkok, Part 2

The first years lined up in front of the Great Hall, staring at the songkok that would somehow be part of their sorting ceremony. Before their very eyes, the songkok twitched. A rip at the front opened wide like a mouth - and the songkok began to sing.

Oh you may not think that I am jambu
But do not judge on what you see
Besides, I’m just a freaking songkok
How jambu can I be?
I am not some random ethnic headgear
You should know this from the start
For I am the Sorting Songkok
Of Hog-Tak-Halal-What
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be
One of four houses named for
The founders of this academy.
You might belong in Fandi Ahmad,
If you possess charm and will
When it comes to void deck soccer
They rule with unerring skill.
You might belong in Sheikh Haikel
Where they are really cool
These groovy Sheikh Haikels
Are the best musicians in school.
Or yet Anwar Ibrahim
Where the clever get it on
Here the term ’smart mat’
Is not an oxymoron.
Last and certainly least
Is George W. Bush
I will be honest - if you go there,
You probably are a douche
So put me on, little one
Do not be afraid!
I promise I will not swallow
When you give me head.

The whole Hall burst into applause as the songkok finished its song - even from the neon pink of the George W. Bush table. Professor McGonnacall stopped it dead when she said aloud, "Welcome to the sorting ceremony. First-years, when I call your name, you are to sit on the stool, and place the songkok on your head. Once you are sorted, you are to sit with your respective new houses."

"I'm going to be in Bush," Harris heard the arrogant drawl he has grown to associate only with Donnie Darko Malfoy. Harris turned to see him announce his Bushy conviction to anybody who would listen to him, which was quite a few people. "Five generations of Malfoys have been in Bush. There is so much Bush in my family that we sometimes forget about Dick." Malfoy paused to clear his throat. "My cousin Dick - he went for a Brazilian." Malfoy cleared his throat yet again, giving the scene all the gravitas of a Strepsils commercial. "-a Brazilian exchange program, so he's the only one not in George W. Bush."

"Ahmad Santiago!" Professor McGogopowerrangers called.

A short, fat boy made his way to the stool, and nervously placed the Sorting Songkok on his head. "Mmm, mmm," The Sorting Songkok said. "I could do with some Maggi Goreng as well. Fine…Sheikh Haikel!"

The cool blues of Sheikh Haikel erupted into celebrations. They got onto their feet, cheering. Potpourri and blue banners exploded into the air. One Sheikh Haikel boy took out his boombox and it blasted out some celebratory, beat-manic hip-hop by Malaysian masters Too Phat. Two Bboys (or if you're too Queen Astrid Park to hit the streets, two breakdancers) among their ranks got onto the table, drifting into a fluid apache step before flipping themselves mad for a sweet one-hand planche.

"Are they going to do that for every person that joins them?" Harris asked Ron.

Before Ron could answer, Professor McGotothemall called for Howe Ahmed Yomudder.

"How about our famous Harris bin Potter?" came yet another Malfoy drawl, as the tall Howe Ahmed proceeded to get sorted. "You know, Harris, I think we would make a great team in George W. Bush. Imagine me and you in the void deck quidditch team!"

Harris was beginning to really not like Donnie Darko Malfoy. "I don't want to imagine that, Malfoy," he said. "Besides, I'm a Fandi Ahmad man."

There was a an impassioned "Yeah! Yeah!" from Ron and Herr-My-Knee behind him. Malfoy turned sharply to Harris' friends. "Red hair, pasar malam clothes. You're an Izfarq aren't you? I've had the displeasure of meeting your dad, Wadyoda Nidstudu." With an obnoxious lift of his nose, Donnie Darko Malfoy added, "Your dad calls my dad 'boss'."

Ron was too angered for a retort - for him, it was the time and place to punch a bastard in the nose. Harris saw this and quickly took a step between Malfoy and Ron. "Blond hair, dead animals for clothes. You're Lady Gaga aren't you? I've had the pleasure of meeting your mom." With another step towards Malfoy, Harris added, "Your mom calls me daddy."

There was the feisty "Oh no he didn't!" of an impending Yo Momma battle, but Professor McGottabeagolfball killed it when she shouted, "Donnie Darko Malfoy!"

As he walked towards the stool, Malfoy glared at Harris. "This isn't over, Harris bin Potter!" The Songkok had barely touched Malfoy's head when it shouted, "George W. Bush!" Loud cheers erupted from the neon pink end of the Great Hall.

A few students later, Professor McGongongcha cried, "Ali Evadass Iz - Is that really your name?"

"Yes, but you can call me Ron." Ron headed to the stool and placed The Sorting Songkok on his head.

"Ugh, you don't need a house. You need shampoo!" muttered The Sorting Songkok. "Hmm… On to business. Right, right. FANDI AHMAD!"

The table marked by the golden motifs of Fandi Ahmad burst with activity as its occupants cheered. A few people did somersaults. Some of them blew kisses to the sky. A few footballs started flying around. Happily, Ron vacated the stool and joined a pair of redhead twins, whom Harris surmised must be his brothers, at the Fandi Ahmad table.

Later, Herr-Aku-Punya-Lutut was also sorted into Fandi Ahmad, more for will, Harris was sure, than for charm. Even so, it made Harris want to be part of Fandi Ahmad even more. He guessed being a member of Anwar Ibrahim or Sheikh Haikel would not be so bad - anything but George W. Bush.

Eventually, the old witch called, "Harris bin Potter!" This caused the entire Great Hall to explode into excited whispers. "Silence please!" commanded Professor McDonalddoll.

The entire Great Hall seemed to draw a collective breath of anticipation as Harris placed the Songkok on his head. "Mmm, mmm, what do we have here?" said the Songkok. "I see vestiges of the great George W. Bush in this one."

"Sweet mother of satay, please no," Harris pleaded.

"Mother of satay? Really? But why not, young one? Mmm, Fandi Ahmad appeals more to you? I see it all in your head, Harris bin Potter. Your parents were both members of Fandi Ahmad, if I recall correctly. And of course I recall correctly, I am THE Sorting Songkok."

"Please Fandi Ahmad, please Fandi Ahmad." Harris was practically begging under his breath.

The Sorting Songkok was still in the midst of an unnecessary monologue. "I wonder if anybody has noticed the inherent sexism in this system - there is no Sorting Tudung. So anyway, Harris, dear boy. I SHALL PUT YOU IN -"

Harris took in a deep breath.

The students in the Great Hall, as one, took in a deep breath.

The staff seated behind Harris took in a deep breath.

A girl in a skirt on the roof, peeping at proceedings, took in a deep breath.

I cannot explain the biology behind it, but The Sorting Songkok, too, took in a deep breath. "- FANDI AHMAD!" A deafening roar of cheers filled the Great Hall, originating from the Fandi Ahmad table. Its members were going insane dancing and punching the air. "We have Harris bin Potter! We have Harris bin Potter!" they yelled. More footballs started bouncing off the table, into the air - one of them flew to the George W. Bush table and smacked Donnie Darko Malfoy in his nose.

Harris, in the meantime, breathed a sigh of relief and started to make his way towards the welcoming arms of his fellow Fandi Ahmads.

Suddenly, he did not feel like a stranger in a new world.

Harris bin Potter and The Stoned Philosopher

Chapter 2: The Sorting Songkok, Part 1
When Harris finally reached the grand castle, he was greeted by the great Doubledoor. One might think that this is a reference to a wise, powerful wizard with a long white beard and says, "Alas!" like it's not the 21st century. One would be mistaken - Doubledoor is really just a big two-door system that makes up the entrance to the school. 

Harris knocked. 

"You're doing it wrong," said a voice behind him. Harris turned to see a tall, skinny Malay boy with a shock of curly red hair. "It is engraved here above the door: Giveth unto the portal two sharp raps, and it will unravel to a realm of unending, glorious sorcery…siol."

Harris knocked again, twice.

"Alamak, you bloody bodoh sial bro," the boy said. "Here, let me." The boy places one hand on the door, and takes a deep breath. 

"I like big butts and I cannot lie," he starts reciting rapidly, rhythmically and indeed, sharply. "All you other brothers can't deny. When a girl walks in with an itty-bitty waist and a round thing in your face, you get SPRUNG!" 

Harris stared at the boy, and then at the unmoving door. He wanted to say, "Well that's…good to know?" He also wanted to clarify what getting sprung entailed, but then the newcomer took another deep breath.

"To the window, to the wall," the boy recited rapidly again, but to a different rhythm. "To the sweat drip down my balls, to all these bitches crawl, to all skeet skeet motherfucker, all skeet skeet goddam." Harris felt like a little john being at the receiving end of such…poetry.

With the creaks of unseen mechanism, the doors slid aside to reveal a Great Hall. Everybody knows how great a hall truly is when it begins with capitals. This one was a vast, vast Hall, lit by magnificent chandeliers hanging from a high, ornate ceiling that could, at will, turn transparent to show the sky above. Girls wearing skirts would do well not to walk on the roof.

The Great Hall had four long tables with accompanying benches, and currently, they were occupied by students in brown baju kurung, the traditional costume of Malays - or in this case, the official school uniform of Hog-Tak-Halal-What. A fifth long table in front seated the school staff - including, Harris noticed happily, the Hygiene Officer Hamid.

The moment Harris walked in, the nebulous buzz of chatter ceased. They were replaced by anxious whispers, most of which Harris caught anyway.

"Is that…?" 

"No way!" 

"It's Harris bin Potter! It's the boy who tak mati siol!" 

"Do you think I can teach Snooki to weave a ketupat?"

"Ki mak, Harris bin Potter dok!"

The whispers were cut by an old witch, who said loudly, "First-years, this way please!"

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Harris and the curly-haired boy who liked big butts followed her as she ushered them into an adjoining room filled with other eleven-year-olds also not in their baju kurung. 

"I'm Ali," the curly-haired redhead boy said to Harris, as they took seats behind a mane of bushy hair that they hoped was attached to a girl. "Ali Evadass Izfarq. But you can call me Ron."

"All He Ever Does - I mean, Ali Evadass - I mean, Ron? Why?"

"When I was younger, there was an elderly Hainanese lady who gave me Math tuition. And every time I showed her my work, she would say that everything was incorrect. But I was sure I did it right, and I insisted. And she would always shout back, 'No, I correct! YOU is ron!' And I believed her."

Harris stared at his acquaintance. For somebody who knew how to open Doubledoor, he sure was pretty stupid. 

The bushy-haired girl seated in front of them turned around to face them after Ron recited his story. "You know, for somebody who knew how to open Doubledoor, you sure are pretty stupid," she said. 

Ron whatever-ed her, but she seemed keen to make friends with the two boys. "My name's Minah," the girl said, shaking hands with both of them, and they exchanged introductions. She then pressed on, "I'm trying to find myself a new name, and I was wondering if you two can help me." The two boys looked at each other uncertainly. It was hardly the kind of thing you asked two eleven-year-olds you just met.

"What's wrong with Minah?" asked Ron, who had changed his own name from Ali to Ron at an error in pronunciation.

"Well, I am an ambitious girl whose life will take her beyond our land," she announced, not sounding like an eleven-year-old at all. "I fear my flagrantly Malay name would be detrimental to my progress in a future career. I think I should change my name to a less Malay one."

"You know, a lot of Malay people won't be too happy hearing what you just said," Harris pointed out. "Especially Malay feminists." Yes, they exist. And they wear tudungs, too.

"How about Siti?" Ron suggested. 

Minah smacked him across his head. "Less Malay!"

After several minutes of brainstorming, in which Ron suggested 'Bedah', 'Nurul', 'Babyrina' and 'Papa Jahat', while Harris suggested 'Emma Watson', Minah exclaimed, "I should take something from the Ancient Runic language!" 

Minah extracted her Ancient Runes textbook - Ancient Runes, Sial! by Wan Prataplis - and started poring through its pages excitedly. Ancient Runes was Minah's favorite subject, and you may wonder how that came to be, since classes have yet to start for the first-years. Well, I wonder the same thing. 

"I want a name," Minah said, impassioned, "that says I am an intelligent, confident, talented young woman."

"Justin Bieber!" offered Ron. Minah smacked him again.

"Well, why not have exactly that in Ancient Runes - Intelligent, Confident, Talented Girl?" Harris took Ancient Runes Sial! from her hands, and started flipping through the pages. "We'll take each word in Ancient Runes, and combine them to make your very own brand new Ancient Runic name!"

"That's a great idea, Harris!"

"Now, what's the Ancient Runic word for intelligent," Harris thought aloud as he flipped through the pages. "There we go - Herr! Confident is…Aku! As for talented it's…Punya! And finally the Ancient Runic word for girl is…Lutut! Combine them and you get -"

"Herr-Aku-Punya-Lutut!" cried the girl formally known as Minah, rising to her feet. "Listen, my friends," she said in a voice that lived up to the 'Aku' aspect of her new name."Henceforth, I shall be known as Herr-Aku-Punya-Lutut, or 'Girl of Intelligence, Confidence and Talent', in the archaic language of Ancient Runes."

Ron cleared his throat. "You know, in the less archaic language of Malay, Herr-Aku-Punya-Lutut translates to Herr-My-Knee," he pointed out for no particular reason.

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The old witch from before reappeared a few moments later. "Allow me to introduce myself," she said in a voice so regal that whoever plays her in the movie should have played a Queen in an earlier film. Except Kirsten Dunst, because she was a crap Marie Antoinette. Also, except Kumar, because we do not mean that kind of Queen. "I am Professor McGongongall", she continued her introduction.

"Sorry?" asked a blond, arrogant-looking student who Harris would later identify as Donnie Darko Malfoy. His friends called him Double-D Malfoy, a name that gave Harris cringe-worthy mental images of anthropomorphized rabbits with large hooters. Sometimes, these images would morph into anthropomorphized owls with large hooters and this would amuse him for a while. Rarely, the anthropomorphized owls go on to morph into anthropomorphized hammers with large knockers and that would be the signal that Harris had taken the joke too far.

"My name," the old witch repeated, "is Professor McGungantroll."

"But you just said..."

"MY NAME," the old witch said again, "is Professor McGoingoinggone. Now, more pressing issues are at hand. You are all to proceed back into the Great Hall to get sorted."

Ron gasped - where he came from, one was told one would get sorted the same way the Italian mafia tells one that one would swim with the fishes. But of course, it was not to be the same thing.

Not long later, Harris found himself back in the Great Hall. This time, there was a stool in the front of the hall. On it sat a solitary black songkok. Maybe they had to try and pull out a kampong chicken from it, Harris thought. Or a rabbit. Yeah, maybe a rabbit.