X. X. X.

The ‘X’es are everywhere, at every corner and public spot your eyes can possibly reach. No, they do not promote single X-rated pornography or the sequel of X-Files movies. Those banners and posters are meant to trigger your political senses to exercise your precious muscles to write the correct symbol during this upcoming General Election. On a ballot paper, an X symbolizes correct agreement and compromise. Well, I am so not politically opinionated, but shouldn’t they change the symbol to a TICK? I suppose, a tick means ‘YES, CORRECT!’ and an X means ‘NO, NOT CORRECT!” - correct?

As a child, when I looked at those political posters, I always thought that an X written next to a party’s logo meant ‘please don’t vote for another party’ or ‘please write an X to the opponent party’. Silly me. So, when I cast my vote for the first time, I found it weird to write an X next to my chosen party. Wasn’t it supposed to be a tick? Can I put a tick there? Hah? Spoilt vote? Thanks for telling me, Dad.

When I was a little boy, I remember joining the election campaign to woo the voters in my kampong. It was early in the morning of the Election Day. I was riding a bicycle cheerfully, going round and round into people’s houses. The old men and women were excited and ready for the battle. The catchy jingle of ‘Marilah mari, kita mengundi’ was heard almost non-stop through all the mainstream electronic media. The parties’ strong supporters kept exchanging words, jeering and cheering at each other. Name-calling seemed pertinent and excusable. There was a serious war between the Greens and the Blues. I was naïve and clueless of what was happening. But the whole pandemonium looked thrilling for me, as if I was in some kind of a circus carnival where stupid-looking clowns were using their utmost communicative skills to amuse the eager-looking passers-by.

“This is how you do it,” said a religious-looking man to a fragile lady, illustrating her on how to write an X in the correct box. He continued, “Do not ever write an X on another box, nanti masuk neraka (you will go to Hell!)”
“No, no, no. I am very old. Nak masuk syurga (I want to go to Heavan),” said the lady, looking so relaxed and proud.


Being one of the critical 300,000 Kelantanese outstation voters in Klang Valley, I am sure that my tiny hands are gigantically influential for the future path of my home state. With free transportation and all those hoping smiles from desperate faces, my existence must be one of the most sought-after in the universe. Hey people, I am not sure whether I am eligible to go to Heavan, but I am sure that I am eligible enough to go to the polling station this Saturday on my own, without any prince-like escort from those macho body guards or swaying little ladies of yours.

Oh, hello, I am pretty sure that I am NOT one of the phantom voters from Hell. My vote will definitely go straight to the Holy Ballot Box which will actually (and hopefully spiritually) determine the Heavanness or Hellishness of Kelantan for the next four or five years. Because my X matters and is powerful, correct? Not correct? Ah, whatever. Just X it, don’t tick it. And you will be part of this critically-debated power of democracy.

Happy ‘X’ing guys!