I was having a beautiful dream, sleeping among the other RM100 ringgit notes banded together in stacks of 100 when suddenly the loud noise from the opening of heavy metal door woke me up. The lights were switched on and by now all other denomination notes were wide awake as well.

We were inside a strong bank vault with two armed security guards guarding the opened vault. Inside, all the new notes comprising the various denominations were stacked separately from the old notes.

I was part of the new notes, under the RM100 ringgit denomination. I was just released yesterday, after being dressed so beautifully in colors with security imprints and a serial number which I supposed was to be my name, from the authority of Bank Negara to my new owner, the Bank.

The old notes were laughing at us, the new notes, and I asked why they were laughing at us. One RM5 ringgit note started yelling, afraid that we could not hear him because the bankers inside the vault were talking so loudly. ‘You all are going out to face the world, you will be squeezed, splashed with saliva, argued and fought over, loved and hated, all kinds of hands will be touching you and you may get to travel all over the world.

‘The Chinese New Year is just a week away and you all will be in great demand. We the old notes are tired and need some rest, so good luck to you all.’ One banker started to grab us and stacked us inside a tray and after taking a few more stacks he walked out of the vault and ordered the security men to lock the vault.

Once outside, he counted the stacks again together with a nice looking lady whom I supposed must be the cashier over the counter. We were roughly handled and squeezed together inside a drawer. After a while I heard the cashier asking someone over the counter, ‘You want the RM100 ringgit new notes as well?’ and that someone, a bank customer answered ‘yes’, he wanted some new RM100 ringgit notes.

The cashier opened the drawer and took a stack of RM100 ringgit notes which included me and placed us inside a machine. Suddenly we were shaking so vigorously and one by one we were jammed through a tiny slot and came out to the other side. Still dizzy from the shaking machine, which I learned later was a money-counting machine, we were picked up and handed over to the customer, a middle-aged man. Before leaving, the man requested for some ang pow envelopes which the cashier gladly gave him.

My long journey into this new world started with this man, an office manager. He took me back to his office and sitting behind his chair, he pulled me out but not before he put his finger in his mouth to get wet from his saliva and recounted his stack of notes. Still wet from his saliva, I was slid into the red packet and sealed. He continued with what he was doing with the other notes.

Before the office closed, he called in his secretary, a Malay lady and gave her the ang pow with me inside. The manager told the secretary that this ang pow was his personally and her bonus from the company will follow suit. The secretary thanked him and left for home filled with happiness.

The next day, my new owner went to the market to but some vegetables. I was traded for the vegetables to a Indian vegetable seller. With me tagging along, the vegetable seller went to a toddy shop and passed me to another Indian selling the toddy.

Before going home, the toddy man passed by a 4D outlet and gambled me away. By now, I was a little soiled with me being squeezed into the vegetable seller's pocket and spilled with toddy. I remained with the 4D shop owner for a while locked inside a little safe. I guess it was about a week before I was taken out.

I heard the 4D shop owner talking to someone over the phone, ‘We have to kow tim them, a few hundred ringgit should solve our problem’. Out I come again, this time at a small secluded coffee stall. I was handed over to someone. This man took me to a money changer and exchanged me for Thai bahts.

The money changer then handed me over to a Chinese man who just came back from a holiday and wanted to change his remaining US dollars back to the ringgit. The Chinese man with his family traded me for some pork and the pork-seller took me to Genting Highlands. What a nice and cool place? The pork-seller exchanged me for some casino chips and played his heart out while I was squeezed into a small box near the gambling table mixing with other notes of various denominations.

I stayed there for a while until the casino security took the box and delivered us to the casino vault where we were separated and went through another counting machine. I was so dizzy that I dozed off and when I woke up I was about to be exchanged to a young lady for her winnings.

The young lady was so thrilled with her winnings as she could now pay her income tax with her without hurting her monthly income. There I went inside a government office for the first time after the young lady paid her tax. The government then has to pay the civil servants through their bank accounts and I was bundled off by the bank into an ATM machine.

That day was pay day for the civil servants and you could see that almost all banks with ATM machines were crowded. I was withdrawn by an elderly civil servant and he put me inside his newly-bought wallet. Over the weekend, the son of the civil servant requested some money to buy some books. The father took out his wallet and pulled me out and the son took me and went in search for his books. Finally, I landed inside the cashier’s box of a book shop.

The cycle of me going round and around continued for a couple of years. I was owned by all the different Malaysian races at one time or another, Muslim and non-Muslim and all kinds of hands had handled me. There were the hands of the Indians selling vegetables and toddy, the Chinese hands selling pork and non- halal food, the gambling outlets, Malay hands selling nasi lemak, tom tam, ikan bakar , the mamak stalls and even the hands of the corrupt. The government had also used me to pay the salary of the civil servants through the banks.

One day, I found myself back inside the government treasury. The government had announced that elderly citizens 60 years and above will received RM100 each as appreciation for their contribution. Some will be receive cash while others through the bank.

On the day of distribution, I was given to an old elderly, woman. She was so happy and she decided not to use me as yet and she kept me inside her locker at home. There was no problem of me being circulated among the different races, religious or non-religious, for so many years. There was not a single complaint about me.

But out of the blue, this elderly woman who owned me, after hearing rumors that I was ‘dirty’ and ‘non-halal’ or whatever they claim, decided to give me up. I was shocked because all these years I was appreciated and happily-owned without any fuss.

What is happening? Is there something that I don't know? Why condemn me for being dirty after being so useful to everyone for so many years? What is the government and Bank Negara going to do with me - clean me up or burn me?

I pray that those who had insulted me will face reality for I am non-political, non-religious and I was born into this world just to serve every human being without discrimination or distortion.