inconsolable soul
i recalled answering the phone call that afternoon. 07.11.1991. it was a man, speaking English, "hello? is Mr. MohdShah home?" 'No, i said. Daddy's working' "is your mother in?" 'yes but she is cooking' "ok can you call your mother? i'm calling from the hospital" 'ok'
i yelled for my mother. i always look at my mom when she talks on the phone. fascinating i guess. but that day after a few sentences, the shocked look plastered onto my mother's face as she repeated," what? passed away on the way to GH (general hospital)?"
i knew what happened.
the next i knew i took my legs out of the door climbed the stairs, ran pass a whole stretch of corridors to the other end of the block ran down a flight of stairs to my aunt's house where she waited at the door and i just came hugging her thighs tightly and crying.
she already knew, my mom called her to tell i was going there.
my grandmother had just died.
Later,i remembered standing behind the door of my room, curled up into a corner and sobbing. it was the day of my grandmother's funeral. i was 7 at that time. i just stayed there and crying out till someone 'found' me and told me it was time to say goodbye. so i asked that relative, " Tok tak kan balik lagi eh (grandma won't be coming again would she?)". she just kept quiet, motioning her fingers to her lips and before pulling me from behind where i was 'held', wiping the tears from my eyes. "lelaki tak leh ngangis tau?!" (Boys cannot cry u know?!)
so i did, as i walked to the living room of my then 3 room flat, i braced myself for what was to be the 'final goodbye'. i wasn't overwhelmed with emotion, i was more, however, affected by the remark my relative made about boys not crying.
i saw my father kissed her forehead. it was the first time i saw him cried after all those years. but somehow, he tried to hold them back albeit some overflowing. he then took me from my relative and placed me on his lap, saying," Opit (daddy gave me this nickname).... pergi cium tok punyer dahi eh nak...?" ( go kiss your grandma's forehead eh son)
it was that moment that i kept myself so strong. never in my life as a kid i had to face such apprehension, for the kind of fears that worried me then were going to school(hated kindergarten), eating fish(never ate seafood despite mummy's attempts) and going for religious classes at night(where the ustaz will always askme to recite lengthy verses from the Quran cause he knows i can do it but i don't like to, so i avoided or cried during classes just to avoid having to read them). closing my eyes i mustered every little ounce of strength from myself to give that kiss.
i ran to my room afterwards, behind the door again. my mom came after.
i had the greatest attachment to my grandma. according to her and my mom, when i was younger she wouldn't keep me out of her sight, she refused to let me be touched by neighbours and talked me to bed every night, taught me how to walk, told me stories of the prophet and always irritate her with questions she can't answer, but she'll say something else somehow. i still also recall vividly me sitting watching her everytime she prayed and mimicked her actions at a point in time i was too immature to comprehend praying at the same time trying to stop our pet cat from scratching the praying mat, and hindering her. we used to talk to the cat together, maybe that's where i got that habit. she would comb me and dress me and gave me money so that i can purchase my favourite snack from the block behind ours. always me! not my brother!
so she said," jangan ngangis lagi opit eh...ok...mak ader kat sini (don't cry anymore ok? mummy's here)". we hugged.
then came the cemetery trip and the burial.
that night, i felt so lonely and so weird. i cried showering cause i had to do it alone. i used to have my grandma outside all the time cause i was so scared to shower by myself. intermittently, i would call her name just to make sure she's there. " yer lah tok ader kat luar ni!!," she would shout back.
i cried getting ready for bed and i cried getting in bed.
i just cried.
somehow, i didn't know why she left. it was unfair! i always dreamed that i could run all theway to her grave as mightily as i could just to talk to her, but i know i can't. so i tell her my stories each night when i go to bed and always say to myself," kenapa tok takde kat sini? kenapa tok?kenapa?" (why aren't you here with me? why grandma? why?) And carry on sobbing my eyes out into my favourite pillow. my dad would hear me sometimes and came in and tell me it was ok.
the whole world told me it was ok.
it wasn't. as a kid i thought it wasn't at least.
now i know why. pulling through was hard for me at least.
it happened again 8 years later, 13.07.1998, to my dad
that was worse.
i yelled for my mother. i always look at my mom when she talks on the phone. fascinating i guess. but that day after a few sentences, the shocked look plastered onto my mother's face as she repeated," what? passed away on the way to GH (general hospital)?"
i knew what happened.
the next i knew i took my legs out of the door climbed the stairs, ran pass a whole stretch of corridors to the other end of the block ran down a flight of stairs to my aunt's house where she waited at the door and i just came hugging her thighs tightly and crying.
she already knew, my mom called her to tell i was going there.
my grandmother had just died.
Later,i remembered standing behind the door of my room, curled up into a corner and sobbing. it was the day of my grandmother's funeral. i was 7 at that time. i just stayed there and crying out till someone 'found' me and told me it was time to say goodbye. so i asked that relative, " Tok tak kan balik lagi eh (grandma won't be coming again would she?)". she just kept quiet, motioning her fingers to her lips and before pulling me from behind where i was 'held', wiping the tears from my eyes. "lelaki tak leh ngangis tau?!" (Boys cannot cry u know?!)
so i did, as i walked to the living room of my then 3 room flat, i braced myself for what was to be the 'final goodbye'. i wasn't overwhelmed with emotion, i was more, however, affected by the remark my relative made about boys not crying.
i saw my father kissed her forehead. it was the first time i saw him cried after all those years. but somehow, he tried to hold them back albeit some overflowing. he then took me from my relative and placed me on his lap, saying," Opit (daddy gave me this nickname).... pergi cium tok punyer dahi eh nak...?" ( go kiss your grandma's forehead eh son)
it was that moment that i kept myself so strong. never in my life as a kid i had to face such apprehension, for the kind of fears that worried me then were going to school(hated kindergarten), eating fish(never ate seafood despite mummy's attempts) and going for religious classes at night(where the ustaz will always askme to recite lengthy verses from the Quran cause he knows i can do it but i don't like to, so i avoided or cried during classes just to avoid having to read them). closing my eyes i mustered every little ounce of strength from myself to give that kiss.
i ran to my room afterwards, behind the door again. my mom came after.
i had the greatest attachment to my grandma. according to her and my mom, when i was younger she wouldn't keep me out of her sight, she refused to let me be touched by neighbours and talked me to bed every night, taught me how to walk, told me stories of the prophet and always irritate her with questions she can't answer, but she'll say something else somehow. i still also recall vividly me sitting watching her everytime she prayed and mimicked her actions at a point in time i was too immature to comprehend praying at the same time trying to stop our pet cat from scratching the praying mat, and hindering her. we used to talk to the cat together, maybe that's where i got that habit. she would comb me and dress me and gave me money so that i can purchase my favourite snack from the block behind ours. always me! not my brother!
so she said," jangan ngangis lagi opit eh...ok...mak ader kat sini (don't cry anymore ok? mummy's here)". we hugged.
then came the cemetery trip and the burial.
that night, i felt so lonely and so weird. i cried showering cause i had to do it alone. i used to have my grandma outside all the time cause i was so scared to shower by myself. intermittently, i would call her name just to make sure she's there. " yer lah tok ader kat luar ni!!," she would shout back.
i cried getting ready for bed and i cried getting in bed.
i just cried.
somehow, i didn't know why she left. it was unfair! i always dreamed that i could run all theway to her grave as mightily as i could just to talk to her, but i know i can't. so i tell her my stories each night when i go to bed and always say to myself," kenapa tok takde kat sini? kenapa tok?kenapa?" (why aren't you here with me? why grandma? why?) And carry on sobbing my eyes out into my favourite pillow. my dad would hear me sometimes and came in and tell me it was ok.
the whole world told me it was ok.
it wasn't. as a kid i thought it wasn't at least.
now i know why. pulling through was hard for me at least.
it happened again 8 years later, 13.07.1998, to my dad
that was worse.
