Tunggu Sekejap: The P. Ramlee Suite by Julian Wong
Earlier this week, I found myself swept into a world I didn’t expect to revisit – the world of P. Ramlee.
I had spontaneously bought a ticket to a tribute concert, performed by a 30-member orchestra, and directed by Ivan Heng. As someone who’s always appreciated the grandeur of symphonic music, I expected to be impressed. What I didn’t expect was to be moved to tears.
You see, I’m a sucker for language and music. One of the many reasons I adore the Turkish language is because of its melodies, its haunting lyrics, and the way poetry weaves through even the simplest phrases. It is also why I find so much comfort in Bahasa Melayu, my mother tongue - its softness, its poetic rhythm.
Lately, I’ve been incubating the soul of WorkSlayChill (WSC), diving deeper than ever before into its foundation and future. Much of WSC has been shaped by my life in Istanbul – my soul city.
But that night, something shifted.
Photo source: Wild Rice
The Stirring Begins
The moment the first notes of “Getaran Jiwa” filled the concert hall, I felt my breath catch. The melody was familiar, but I had never heard it this way before. Backed by an orchestra, swelling with emotion and pride, the lyrics came floating through the air:
“Getaran jiwa melanda hatiku
Tersusun nada, irama dan lagu
Walau hanya sederhana
Tetapi tak mengapa
Moga dapat membangkitkan
Sedarlah kamu wahai insan”
Every syllable stirred something deep. This was not just nostalgia – it was recognition. A quiet, undeniable remembering of who I was before I got lost in the chaos of ambition.
The Power of Simplicity and Heart
Midway through the concert, the orchestra paused to narrate P. Ramlee’s musical journey. I listened intently as they shared how towards the end of his life in Malaysia, the industry that once celebrated him turned its back. They deemed his music outdated. Said he was no longer relevant. He was in his early 40s.
His early 40s!!!
I’m 43 this year.
That part hit like a punch to the chest.
How often have I wondered the same? Whether I’ve missed the boat, whether it’s too late to start over, to build something new, to become someone more aligned with who I truly am?
And then the screen flickered with scenes from his films – grainy, black and white, minimalist productions with modest sets and raw, heart-driven performances.
That’s when I realised. It was never about polish or profit for P. Ramlee. It was about passion. His craft was a love letter to his culture, his people, his language. That’s why his work lived on. That’s why he became, and remains, a legend.
Because when art is made with heart, it lasts.
So if you’ve ever felt like you’re too old to begin, too complex to be understood, or too much for this world…
Let this be your reminder:
You’re not too much.
You’re not too late.
You’re not alone.
P. Ramlee reminded me of that tonight. And through the tears that fell, I reclaimed that truth for myself.
Photo source: Wild Rice
A Parallel I Had Never Noticed Before
But what truly made me pause and reflect on my own creative path, was this:
Even P. Ramlee had his own duality of cities.
He was born in Penang, but it was Singapore where his creative career truly flourished. His iconic films and timeless music were born here, in this city I call home. Singapore nurtured his artistry before he returned to Malaysia.
That dual-city rhythm mirrored my own.
Like him (not that I’m comparing myself to a legend), I’m shaped by two cities – Singapore and Istanbul. One is my origin, the other my awakening. Both shaped my soul in equal measure.
I carry that duality not as a burden, but as a blessing.
It wasn’t until tonight, in a concert hall in Singapore, that I remembered why I feel so much. Why poetry always finds its way into my voice. Because my ‘Getaran Jiwa’ got triggered. My roots are rich. My Malay heritage, vast. My emotions, my empath – they are all part of my inheritance.
And perhaps, so is the need to create with heart.
It wasn’t until tonight that I remembered why I feel so much.
It’s cos my ‘Getaran Jiwa’ got triggered.
The Bridge Between Two Worlds
As the orchestra transitioned into “Tunggu Sekejap”, I heard it not as a love song from one person to another, but as a message from my soul city herself –
“Tunggu sekejap, wahai kasih
Tunggulah sampai hujan teduh…”
Wait for me, my love. Wait until the storm clears. Don’t go.
I imagined Istanbul, like a siren, calling me back.
I never expected the concert tonight to stir my thought process in building WorkSlayChill as a creative platform (something I’ve been brewing on the low). The inspiration was much needed and tonight, I feel my dots… connecting.
It will be a slow unfurling, and when I am ready to unveil it, it shall be an offering from my heart to yours. And I’m so glad you’re here for the journey.
Tungguuuu….
Side note:
Even after the final bow, the symphony stayed with me. I left the concert hall with my heart full, but oddly craving more.
I found myself yearning for a playlist. A full collection of P. Ramlee’s songs performed by an orchestra, something I can listen to on repeat on Spotify.
Music like that doesn’t just fill a room. It lingers, y’know.
Besides Sheila Majid, there was one other voice that once stole my breath with his rendition of Getaran Jiwa.
Sean Ghazi.
Just saying his name cracked open a sealed part of my memory.
My late mother and I were such fans of his album. It must’ve been more than a decade ago, maybe more. And in a wave of nostalgia (or maybe intuition), I rummaged through my dad’s old drawer of CDs. A drawer no one’s really touched since Mom passed away.
And there it was. Semalam.
Holding that CD felt like holding time. And just like that, I was transported back to 2007. I remembered getting tickets to Sean’s mini showcase in Singapore. Mom wanted to come so badly but her health wasn’t on her side. I went alone. And after the show, I had the CD signed for her.
Sean Ghazi’s – Semalam
An autographed CD for Mak.
Dated: 20 May 2007
This got me bawling for five solid minutes. This is why I avoid going through my old things. Because sometimes, they pull at threads you thought you’d stitched up for good.
I spent the rest of the day listening to this gorgeous, splendid, helluva album which I had long forgotten but so glad I found.
Now I’m wondering… what’s Sean Ghazi up to these days? Maybe it’s time to find out.
x