Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Did Dad Dub A Dot On That Dart Dear ?

Have ever, an event so significant, that goes slamming right onto your nose hard, that it doesn't leave you smiling ear to ear, nor make you cry blood, nor make you run outside, stretch your arms up to the sky and scream EUREKA (!) naked, like this guy ?

It does exactly what post head trauma would normally do - stun you numb.

Eyes fixed to a point, but not one thing is in focus. No matter how important everything around you sounds, it's just gonna sound in one, blurry monotone. Sort of like having your head submerged underwater.

That's exactly what happened on Sunday.

My cousin just got married. And at a very tender age of 20 years old, some of you would think this can't be all serious, or worse, if this were to be perceived by filthy numb-skulls. Just to make a point clear, she was engaged a year ago. And no, in the time gap of 9 months (plus another three), her tummy remained as hourglass-y as it was since she was in her early teen years, or heck, since forever. I bet this cleared off some vast assumptions.

We're talking about life-long, dead-serious commitment here, far more realer and heavier than your race to your target weight.

Congratulations Zac & Vaness..I mean Wan & Aleen !

You all should feel very happy for them, although I don't blame some of you for hating her metabolism.

Guy in blue circle : Not single anymore.

Guy in red circle : Ehehehe

Photos courtesy of photographer(s) extraordinaire : Nurul Suhaimi

You'd imagine, such spectacular event of joy and wonder would make me prance around in circles and have confetti bits stuck in my hair while making merry with family members who have confetti stuck in their hair too, or at least smile by the thought of it.

I would, but then,

The Lord took one of my most favourite uncle, Pak Zali by His side, leaving us to wait for our turn in the non-existent que.

It was sudden. I came back home late, just to find my dad rushing to my uncle's house with the news that he fell. That's just it, he fell. Worried, I was, but not expecting the worst, I was too. My cousin told me to come, and with the restlessness of his voice, I would, in a heartbeat. But then, I would leave my mum and my sister alone. And that's not safe. Since like I said, I wasn't expecting the worst, so I just hoped that by tomorrow, Pak Zali would just shake off the dust off his knees and still make his Utara-slang based unintended jokes.


Knocks were heard on my door. And door-knocking at wee hours of the morning, mostly don't bear good news. Like school.

The door creaked open, with my mother standing there. Her words were simple ;

"Pak Zali dah takda"

But the effect was devastating. Those four words hit me hard, did what any physical means can't, passing through skin, and shatter all process of my mind, leaving me to just sit there, stunned, unable to exert a single thought of anything rational. Numb.

Just plain nothingness.

Seeing the still body, laying there for the first time ran a jolt through my body. It shocked, and strangled my eyeducts so tightly, that they couldn't even shed a drop. Was once that uncle who'd go "Abang Shiyaaaaaff " everytime I'm at his front door, and would happily announce my cousin that I'm there, was now silent.
I grabbed the Yassin, and read the verses shakily.

But seeing how calm and easy his face was, it made us somewhat relieved too, reassured us that he was a good man in his past life. He really was. Like my father said, he was a really straight forward guy. Not the kind to be a shrimp behind a rock, everthing he did was sincere. One of them who would overlook emo hairmops, and tiny tshirts and just see you as the good honest kid he knew since the day the kid sucked Optrose from a bottle.

And it's good to know that he passed on very easily, without a struggle too. Alhamdulillah.

It's rather surprising, when my cousin and I, gave him a bath, handled him, wrapped him in white cloth, we were as calm as his facade too. When all the years I thought, I would be so squeamish that I'd be too shivery to even hold a sponge right if it ever come to situations like this. When in truth I should've shaked my knees like jelly with too much water added, but instead, I even tip-toed to get the soap. I don't think the calmness came just like that, I think the reasons are far more spiritual, which I can hardly interpret.

When he was lowered into his dugged dirt bed, my father put his hand on my shoulder and said ;

" Handsome mana, kaya mana, billionaire ke, last-last, masuk situ jugak *referring to the liang lahad*"

Although in the strong heat of the afternoon, I felt chills down to my every nerve endings. Yes, I admit I'm scared of death, but more specifically to death of dying unprepared for Him.

You wanna know what's more spine-tingling ? . My cousin, when he was in the pit piling back up the dirt to bury him, he gave a last look to his late dad, and saw his dad's lips stretched a tiny bit wider, giving his beloved son the final smile. Hanan wasn't scared, he was happy. Sangat-sangat. He told.

Death is always perceived as dark and that jerk in a black hood carrying a plastic scythe. When in fact, if viewed from the right light, would be a lesson, the wisest advice, given without even a single word.

I've learned firsthand that death doesn't come knocking on your door three times and would leave if the door is unanswered. It'll kick down the door, grab you and put in his van whether you like it or not, whether you've put on your pants or you have not. You can't even ask him to stop at gas stations if you need a toilet break.

It's good that we're thought to not take death as permanent absence, but as the changing of phases. Thought not to go into an outburst of bloody tears, but to take it as a reminder, a challenge from The Almighty.

A salute to my best cousin, Bahnan, for being ever so strong. Being the only child, this is harder for you to take than anyone else. But how you held on your head high, not showing even a flinch of weakness displayed perseverance that goes beyond your young age. Sure, you shed a tear or two, but that doesn't strip the amount of strength I see in you, not even a micrometer. Hold on cous' , if ever your grip slipped, you've my muscular (mhhm) biceps to hold on too. Get your 10 A's. For yourself, and for Pak Zali. You're awesome, to every strand of your manly, trimmed (not shaved) moustache :)