Dear Tun Mahathir:
We write to you from a certain place not a hospital bed but, still, we ask that you get well and soon.
We trust you have gotten the best treatment and the best care that this country has — a country that used to be one of finest that there is until, of course, we took the wrong foot forward then made it worse taking the wrong turn. Confucius was right about that thousand mile journey, but he didn’t tell us what’s to be done next after we stepped out the wrong door.
There is much for us to do together and never enough time.
For the moment, though, it would be simply trite to go on and on about where things are and what ought to be come next. Even if they ain’t smart, people know in their hearts. We trust the root Malay instinct, and we’ve have every confidence in our Chinese morality — the both aren’t very far apart once you look in through the microscope.
Please take plenty of rest. And listen to your doctor!
Want some poetry? The ones below come from two generations earlier or three and they’re from a distant land.
Again, get well soon.
Our best wishes go with you always and forever and, of course, Siti and all in the family.
PS: We know it is done in official, government documents. But, as a curiosity, why do you still number your paragraphs?