The Malaysian peninsula’s ecosystem is
considered to be perhaps the last of the ecosystems in which such species still
thrive. They are often described as ‘those blundering and voracious little
mammals that strategize little but brim with dense joy and determination’ so
that their thrusts over the plains at specific times of the year are watched in
endless amazement, worry and disbelief.
Nowhere else in the world do migrations
of such madness occur except in the valleys and plains that carpet Malaysia.
And in no place on earth have there been witness to movements of beasts in such
deranged droves and manic unison that leaves one gapingly awed. These
migrations begin in the weeks before the onset of the Great Feasts.
The migrations could involve about several
million beasts of three or more species at any one time. They speed and
stampede along the same worn paths each year. By instinct they bolt in clumps,
each made up of two adults and three or four young ‘uns, and it is in this
formation that they start off in unison and with but one insane mind.
Peculiar only to this region, a big
number are victims of their own follies, for they are their own predators and
victims all in one. The spectacle of this suicidal phenomenon can only be
understood when seen in person and only then will it be comprehended as the Seventh Blunder of the Modern World.
This manic migration is a dramatic
story. It takes place amoung the various states of Malaysia and is the
greatest, brainless show on earth. Amoung the open plains of the West Coast and
the East Coast, the North and the South and all the crevices in between these
foolhardy Mammalaysians get into gear and stampede blindly at full speed in
almost all directions and head for the backwaters of Everywhere.
With a show of camaraderie some will
band together at certain stops to embark on the journey in groups of twenty or
thirty and spend hours huddled in a tight pack. If they are lucky they will
arrive at their destination intact and then disperse into smaller flocks. Those
unfortunate enough to have totally incompetent leaders, who lead them like
blinded and lobotomized freaks, may never see the light of a living day again.
The precise timing of these migrations
changes annually, according to the waxing and waning of the moon, the occasions
being very spontaneous, auspicious and natural events. While on the trip to the
backwaters of Everywhere wild hoots of “Balik Kampung! Balik Kampung! Balik
Kampung!” often accompany them and with this they grow manic and crazed and get
out of control. So driven are they that it is not uncommon to see many of them
entangled and splattered in fatal accidents resulting in sad but not
unavoidable deaths.
Before the onset of each migration, wild
life patrols often attempt to regulate their movements with warnings of
dangerous patches along their journey but these warnings, as always, fall on
deaf beasts. They prefer instead to expose themselves to danger and throw
caution to the wind in romantic and problematic waves and sweeps.
The movement back is just as dramatic
albeit with less enthusiasm for the climax of the great migrations have been
achieved. From then on, the migrations take on a downhill dip but with no less
number of crashes and splatterings. Their reckless bravery culminates during
these seasonal migrations, when they turn into feverish, sub-normal
Mammalaysian wildebeests.
The casualties each year are high but do
nothing to discourage a repeat performance the following year with the exact
same casualties, in almost the exact same spots, for the exact same reasons and
in the exact same witlessness, And
thereon we witness, in awful disbelief, the migrations of these two legged,
dying-to-be-dead Malaysian Wildebeests.
"Balik Kampung" may be likened to the original sentiments of " Take Me Home, Country Road". The difference being that this happens at least four times a year marking every festive season and its family reunions in multicultural Malaysia. It is particular only to Malaysia and its inhabitants. Me wildebeest.
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