I find this story quite interesting and relevant to be shared among Desaminium residents. Thanks to Puteri Kamaliah for writing and sharing this rather nice piece of yet another Malaysian ways of life. Yang baik jadikan teladan and yang kurang baik jadikan sempadan.

Pandemonium in Condominium
Are condo walls thinner than the average house wall? It certainly seems so here where we live. Somehow I feel so exposed and vulnerable, with every creak of my bed (ooooh dear!) magnified across a wafer-thin divider.

My children say I am and will always remain paranoid of everything and everyone no matter what the truth. A lot of help they are!

Dear Pak Abu, the logical thinking mathematician not known for his diplomacy at the best of times, thinks the walls are fine. It’s my sense of hearing and attention span he worries about.

The man says it baffles him that I can hear the tiniest noise from upstairs but not his running commentary about the state of Malaysian politics, and why some people tend to nod off to sleep in the middle of meetings and such.

As the norm, I try not to argue with Pak Abu’s observations because he does have a valid point very now and then. Granted, I am pretty opinionated myself and can be as obstinate as a mule sometimes.

Back to the wall issue, I brought up this subject because the people living above us had been having rather over-enthusiastic domestic squabbles lately. You could hear furniture being thrashed and household stuffs flung about.

I assume furniture were broken because I could hear hammerings the following day, presumably of chair legs being reattached and such. The commotion they caused (the fighting and ensuing repairwork) was distracting, to say the least.

Whilst we weren’t nosy-parkers – far from it – we did worry in case the quarrels turned violent. I expressed my concern to Pak Abu but he said we should just sit tight and ride the storm, as it were. And we did, until yesterday.

The pandemonium started just after we completed our subuh prayers early yesterday morning. There was the usual shouting and screaming, followed by lots of stomping and clanging sounds (of pots and pans thrown at each other?).

Much as I was annoyed, I was also amused at the same time because the lyrics of P Ramlee’s song suddenly came to mind: “Periuk belanga terbang melayang-layang, menghentam my belakang…”

The clamour, carried by the still morning air, was such that it felt as though our ceiling was about to cave through. I could see poor Pak Abu’s temperature rising by the moment. Is this what we moved to this presumably high-end condo for?

Suddenly we heard a woman’s voice yelling: “Ooooiii, bulan puasa niiiii!!!” Moments later a man’s voice boomed: “Takder malu langsung!!”

Immediately the din ceased. Bless my unseen neighbours for taking the lead. They must have been exasperated beyond reason to do what they did.

Nonetheless, an irate Pak Abu went down to the security guard station, at six o’clock in the morning, to lodge a complaint. I followed up with another report at the management office a few hours later, only to learn I wasn’t the first.

Without divulging any more than I should, I was surprised to find out the occupant’s identity; quite a well-known personality from the entertainment industry. I just hope that from now on they will keep their domestic scuffles at a manageable noise level.

[I am so very tempted to slip a note under their door, giving them contact numbers of professionals who could soundproof their pad. Honest!]

Now, who says my life is dull?