IN the early 1970s, Mohd Nor Khalid was a New Straits Times (NST) crime reporter charting an improbable course to become Malaysia's greatest cartoonist who signs off drawings with the famous nom de plume "Lat".
His portrayals, caricatures and parodies of people, places and comedic situations were illuminating but engagingly mirthful. It was this philosophy depicting life in the early 1960s that would immortalise him as a pop-culture superstar.
For decades, Lat sketched cartoons for the NST with a socio-political slant, exhibiting unique observational artistry and rare intelligence to capture, with piercing honesty, the nation's zeitgeist.
The day Lat stumbled upon journalism in the NST, motivated by the urgency to fend for his struggling family, was destiny at work.
In between his crime reporting assignments, Lat sneaked in a cartoon here and there that eventually propelled him to this propitious break, the 1974 Asia Magazine cartoon narrative of a traditional Malay circumcision ceremony.
The cartoon's critical acclaim enthralled then NST editor-in-chief Lee Siew Yee, who beseeched his then managing editor A. Samad Ismail to hire the talent during a private discussion.
Samad's matter-of-fact reply was classic: we already hired him, pointing to Lat, a shout away in the newsroom.
Lee was stunned: a huge talent resonating from this chubby but rugged hippie was simmering right under his nose.
Then came Samad's master stroke, he plucked Lat out of his crime beat oblivion and plunked him into a lifelong vocation as cartoon's national conscience.
To finetune his talent, the editors despatched Lat to a fashionable London art school for a four-month stint.
Lat returned with a mission of enlightenment: caricaturing virtually a Who's Who of Malaysia and the world, hilariously ribbing them with whimsical pen strokes and subtle critique that mesmerised the entirety of Malaysia's pluralistic soul.
Still, Lat's reputation as NST's prodigal son wasn't a licence to print.
By his own admission, several of his drawings were spiked because the editors felt his side-splitting studies of the human condition were "politically incorrect".
Lat's legacy as the nation's resident cartoonist was further cemented this week with the bestowal of the Anugerah Seniman Negara by Her Majesty Raja Zarith Sofiah, Queen of Malaysia.
There is a quiet campaign to get the journalism fraternity to confer Lat, who was bestowed a datukship in recognition of his works, with the prestigious but long overdue National Journalism Laureate.
Distressingly, Malaysia hasn't managed another talent in Lat's mould: the decades yielded many wannabes but none were as popular, charismatic, profound, prolific and prodigious as Lat.
While his panoramic vision basked in newspapers, magazines, books and corporate advertorials, social media is beckoning for a new cartoon "messiah", provided the artist bears Lat's aptitude, abetted by a tolerant and forgiving socio-political environment.
In these volatile times, Malaysians must indulge the cartoonist, grudgingly if they must, with a crucial characteristic: a sardonic sense of humour as self-deprecating as Lat.