Still Standing Tall

      It has been almost 5 years I haven't been able to throw away a single things that belong to her, and every time I thought I have a courage to do so I chickened out. My heart started pumping faster, my eyes begin to water, even my hands started to shiver. So I stop and packed her things back in a box and reminded my self that i will do it later. Yes I did give away a few things, clothes, tudungs, accessories, but I still keep things that I felt close to, things that I loved to see her wearing it. Even her undies I havent had the heart to throw it away. My jewel, Intan even asked me to keep a few  things (not the undies mind you) that she found pretty so she could wear it when she is bigger and older. 


    I know it sounded pathetic, even cruel for me to still keep hanging on to this stuff, and I know she will not come back to wear all of her belongings and  I also know that if I ever marry again my future wife will not want to have my late wife's stuff. 


     This end of 2011, I decided to rent out my beloved house, since I need the money, (my children is getting bigger but my salary getting lesser) but the problem is that the house is still full with furnitures,  clothes and all the small and tiny stuff of a house. I guess it is time for the children and I to let go the stuffs which we felt a lot of memories disturb feeling. (kenangan mengusik jiwa) 


     We literary dive into our stuff that may be possibly be a lot of rubbish for some but  precious to us. There was a lot! At the end things that we decided to keep, a little of it we felt unneeded. Overall things still piling up, we had to move it before end of this month, before the new tenants come in, and the stuff most importantly we don't  know where to put it.  


     What am I to do? My parents house, though big had no more space to spare. A few of the furniture I think I can squeeze it in, but most of it I have to throw it away. I guess if I do find someone who sacrifice herself to be with me and my children for the rest of my life what left of it, I have no choice but buy new. Hope she can share the cost.(ha-ha)


      Still the same problem occurred, I still have that beat of my heart, that water in my eyes, the shake of my hands to either throw or keep my late beloved wife's stuffs. Standing tall I have to do it, I want to do it, I need to do it on my own. I really hope I could throw or give away most of it but keep at least a box of her precious memories... or two...maybe three. Standing tall my a**!




hafiz's 121211

The Plan - Chapter 13

We have been together for almost 5 years, and we know that someday we will get married but somehow it was not in our agenda at that point of time. I was also afraid to tell my parents. I came from a big family. I have 2 older sisters, 3 older brothers and a younger sister. I am the 6^th child from seven siblings.

            One of my biggest problem was my two elder brothers were still not yet married.  One of them didn’t have any girlfriend even. In our culture a younger sibling marrying another before they do, was like stepping a rocky stone, but luckily my parents was not that orthodox. Still, to utter the words to them was scary. So I keep my mouth shut and waited for them until that one fine day.

            It was one of the weekend on august 1997, I was at the time was at home. I knew her parents were at Siti’s, so I didn’t have any plan with her, I knew she want to spend her time with her family, so I stayed home. When I received the call, she came straight to the point and asked me to come to her house. Her father wants to have a word with me. I asked why, and all she answered was “just come.” I can hear the trembled in her voice, I am not sure either the tremble was due to excitement or she was scared.

            In half an hour I was on my bike and on the way to her house, they were patiently waiting for me at the dining table. I said my greetings and shake hands (hand kissed and all), her father asked me to sit down. My Siti sat beside me and smile. The first question from her father made me sat straight. “Do you love my daughter, Hafiz?”

            “Yes, Pakcik, I do.” said I.

            “Do you Along (a name she called her 1^st born), love Hafiz?” he asked again.

            “Yes, Abah, I love him so much.” Her answer made me proud and I squeezed her delicate hand.

            “What is your future plan, Hafiz? You had been dating Along for almost ten years now, when do you plan to tie the knot. Both of you are old enough and I love you like a son, so I do want you to be my son in law.” His face was so serious. Siti’s mother was sitting beside her husband and keeps nodding her head.

            I considered my answer and said; “I do want to marry her, Pakcik, Makcik, but my two brothers are still not yet married. I have to wait for them.”

            “When?” he asked.

            “I am not sure…” it was the best answer I could gave at that time, and it was the wrong answer.

            “A few days ago a group came to my house and asked about Along. They were asking for her hand. Pakcik told them that my daughter had someone else in mind, and she also was going to be engage soon. I don’t like to lie, Hafiz, so I really like you to come with your family and make it happen, as soon as possible. I am not asking you to marry Along in this near future. Just an engagement, so other people would not come and try to take her away from you.” Her father explained.

            I was lost for words, at the same time excited because I have her parents blessing. I didn’t know how to answer. It was not a request. It was a choice. Either I come and sent my family to ask for her hand, or I lost her to someone else, and that was not an option I want to consider.

            While I again squeezing my lover’s hand to gain strength, I answered, “Okay, pakcik. I will tell my parents and will try to persuade them.”

            We started to discuss the date and time for my family and I could come. It was set on school holidays, November 9^th. We then discussed the appropriate things like the gifts, what to bring, what to do and what cannot, so on and so forth.

            The trip back home was a blur. I didn’t notice that I reached home when I did. In my mind I was trying to find the rights words and phrase to ask my parents my plan to step over my brother’s. It was almost dark when I reached home, so, I took a bath and prayed. After isyak, as usual, my parents was sitting and was watching the tube at the living room. I sat down and joined them.

            My heart was pounding heart. It was so hard that I felt like my heart was beside my ear drums, but a man got to do what a man got to do. “Ayah, N’cek (we called my mother N’cek, it is a culture from my father's side), I have something important to tell you.” I blurted out.

            At that time I was alone with my parents in the house, we always do. My eldest sister, Yus was still at Bristol UK. She followed her husband Abang E who is working with Proton. My second sister Munirah is in Segamat with her family, teaching secondary school, my brother Yasir staying in Kelana Jaya also with his family, my other brother Mazhar was at that time still working, my brother Safwat was staying and still studying in Serdang and last but not least my younger sister was still studying and stayed at UITM Shah Alam.

            My parents watched me and waited. I felt that a drop of sweat streamed down my face. There was no backing out now; “I want to get engage with Siti on 9^th November at her parents place in Johore.” It was a straight to the point no question ask statement. I could felt that my face was white. Suddenly it was quiet. Even the television was not making sound. All my hearing senses was concentrating and waiting for my father’s answer.




...to be continued...

A Birthday wish...

14th September,

a day to remember,

4 me n my family members,

4 me alone to bear...

a poem should i write,

a poem should i recite,

still a poem untouched,

still a poem she will not sight,

a gift i should buy,

a gift i should ribbon tied,

still a gift untied,

still a gift she will not try,

i am a humble upon YOU,

i kneel in front YOU,

with a prayer of gratitude,

she is now cared under YOU,

for i had done what i could,

i had done what i should,

loving her as much as i could,

and missing her as much as i should,

Happy birthday, dear wife.. may u r at peace...

done deal

15092011

A detour – the missing Link

As many of you know, I befriend with my late wife when we were sixteen, thus there was many memories between us, good and bad. I remembered the 1^st time she came for Hari Raya, timid and beautiful. She came alone. We were seventeen. I was surprised when she came, didn’t expect her to come. We were at that time (I thought) just friends, but as I told you in the previous chapter she had a big crush on me. Half an hour later she was gone. She invited me to go out with her but I declined. My reason? I was tired and in need sleep. Yes, people, I am an idiot.

            Jump 4 years later I was in love with her. On her birthday I was sick though, and I guess as her lover I should celebrate with her but I couldn’t. I had the chicken pox, so I asked my friend Elinna to buy a soft toy and twenty one buds of roses and send it to her office. It made her day. After work she went back and cooks porridge for me and brought it to my house.

           

            She always come to Ampang, but not my house exactly, but near by, and she will called me on a public phone and I will come to her. We went for a “teh tarik” for hours, and every hour I asked her to go home, because she came with her mother motor bike, and she had no license. Sometime I sent her back and got home with a cab.

            At every birthday and anniversary, I will write her a poem, before and after marriage. Once I did not write because the wedding anniversary card had it own poem. The gift it self was expensive, a golden bracelet, it was our 5^th wedding anniversary. She cried when she saw the bracelet, and when she look at the card she, she got angry and ask me “where is my poem? I don’t care about the gift, every time you write me a poem, and that is the most precious to me…”

            Right there and then I wrote her a poem, and she cried again because she made me recited the poem in front of her parents. I was bashful, but I am happy when I saw her tears in her eyes, the spark in it, the way she looked at me, I know I am her champion, who won her heart.

            The point of this entrée was not meant to brag. I have seen relationship breaking down between friends and colleagues, families and foes. My personal advice is you have to maintain the spark. What you did while courting and wooing your partner, like buying flowers, opening doors, holding hands and even a peek on a cheek for no reason at all. 

Recap; a Detour

It has been almost 4 years since she’s gone. She went away in the early dawn. Though  I let her go and redha, but I cannot deny that my heart sometimes ached and felt that she was supposed to be with me now. I felt that I would like to tell people about her, a story that may, I hope, gave the readers  hopes, encouragements, advices,  in a relationship between families and spouse; but mostly I would like the readers; friends and families to know her, to love her as many did.

            I have been through a lot since she’s gone. I lost half part of me. My children lost a mother. Our lives were up side down and from my point of view even now. I am not as good as a father should be. I felt that I don’t have enough time and money to spend with my children. I regretted every time I am not around them.

            I have 3 children, two boys and a girl; Majed Tuah, Aniq Jebat and Intan Seri. They are my life, I die for them, and I would suffer for them if it comes to that. When Siti passed away, my mother in law did ask me to let her take care of my children, stayed with her in Johor; while I work in K,L., but of course I declined as softly as I could, so not to hurt her feeling. I was tempted though, I was not sure if I can give them what they deserved.

            My late wife’s mother is a wonderful person. I could not ask a better person than her as my mom in law. She took after me and my children while Siti was bedridden, and a year after Siti passed. I cannot thank her enough. For her, I was one of her son. We were staying in Semenyih then, but I have to let her went back to ‘kampung’. She still has a mother and need to take care of her.

            A year after that, in 2009, I moved back to Ampang, lived with my parents. I had no choice. I tried to open up my own business; I quit my job and tried my luck. Honestly speaking, if I was not a bankrupt, I think I could make it; I had ideas and a bit of capital, and that was the main problem, a bit only. My grey oyster mushroom is hot in the market. I sold about 30kg per day.

My plan was I don’t need anybody. All I need is my business, my children and my sanity. Each morning I would send Tuah and Aniq to school, while Intan (she’s three n half years old) and I went to my mushroom farm and do some plucking, clean and watered the entire barn. Went back home, cook lunch, if there is enough time, cut the mushroom, bagged it  and went too picked up the boys. After lunch and zuhur send Tuah to his evening school, while Aniq, Intan and I will go and sell the mushrooms. In the evening, picked up Tuah again from school, cook dinner, tucked my children to sleep and I will do some accounting, tidy up the house and rest. The next day I will start all over again.

I should blame this on my business partner. His the one who persuaded me to ventured into the ‘mushrooms’ business, shared the capital he said, but it’s all me at the end. My original planned was to buy a school bus. Get myself a PSV and an E license. Fixed income, almost, a mini bus would do, carried 44 kids at RM40 per person per month.

            All that was history; luckily I was called back to my old job three months after I quit. Working as a driver has no fixed time. My time was my boss’. It belongs to him. I don’t mind. The pay is good; hence my point of not spending much time with my children. I was and will always home late, and I have to most of the time work on weekends. My free time I spent with my children went wherever (usually the movies) and eat whatever. (And people wondered why I am still widowed)

            When Arwah Siti was sicked, we have to use a lot of money. I am not blaming her; I will gladly do it again, even more so if time can turn back. We used a lot of money, I had help from friends and families even co-workers, but it was never enough. I had to sell my car, used to the max my credit cards, made personal loans, missed a lot of monthly payments, etc. Cancer treatment was expensive, and each month my late wife stayed in the hospital for 2 weeks.

            In other words I have debts. Even now I am still paying for it. There is still a few back dated payments. I am struggling, but still Alhamdulillah, I managed. My children went to school with new uniforms every year. Still have new clothes for Raya, but I cannot give them the luxury they wanted. Would love to bring them for holidays but truthfully I cannot afford it.

          

  I pitied my children, tried my best to give things they wanted, but I am a normal man, I could not afford luxuries. Hopefully it would change. Would love to meet a lady n I remarried, so my children have someone to call mother. Planning to do something drastic to overcome my debts and hope it will goes well. Still so many things to do before it become a reality…. Please pray for me and my children.

A Renew Relationship - Chapter 12

A Renew Relationship

          

            We’ve been through a lot for the past years, yet we are still together. She was happy and so was I, and that was the most important thing for us.  All had been forgotten. For me, let by gone be by gone, but for her I knew she sometimes remembered her passed and she cried, most of the time in the middle of the night, I guessed she had a bad dream, she woke me up and told me how sorry she was. I always did the same thing when she was like this, gave her a hug, and whispered to her, “I don’t know what you are talking about, dear.”

            In 1995, I was in ITM. She was so proud and happy for me. At first she was afraid that I had a crushed with other girls who, she thought prettier and smarter than she was. She made sure that would not happened by buying me a pager. (In 1995, mobile phone was considered a luxury). Every morning she would page me and said “I love and missed you.” She also sometime paged me and asked me to call her back if I was free.

            I didn’t think that it was a nuisance. It was the sweetest thing she ever did. While most of my colleagues still looking for a girlfriend, I was content to myself that I have someone who loved me for what I really am. I still remembered how she gave a capital to start a small business while I was studying. It was selling maggi and cigarettes. The business was doing well and the coins were used to call her.  Every time I ran out, she would give me more to buy and sale.

            In 1998, I was out and tried to find a job. Siti did found me one on the same office as hers as an account clerk. She was the receptionist. Everyone knew that we were together and no one ever mind. We went to work and back together, and we spent a lot of time together. Life was good.

            Our parents already knew each other; even my parents didn’t mind we were a couple. Siti would woo my mother, as she knew that my mother was a bit skeptical of our relationship. After her parents accepted me, now it was her turned to do what I did. She really made an effort to proof me her sincere heart. She told me that she never stopped loving me and was always thought of me.

            My mother was not easy persuaded. She (my mother) said to me Siti was too tall and too beautiful for me. She was scared that Siti will let me down. I just smiled and said to my mother; “she’s the one.” My mother disliked her at first because the first time she came to the house; she was not wearing a ‘tudung’ and a bit sexy, wearing a summer sleeveless dress. She learned her lesson when I told her, and she was really trying to get my mother liked her. For me, she would carry my mother up to the peek of a mountain to made my mother accepted her.

           

            After a while my loving mother knew that his son was in love and loyal. Even though her feeling of unacceptable is sill there, but her motherly love to her children was to make her children choose their own path on life (with a lot of advices and naggings). She also felt that Siti’s loved for me was genuine, no will be daughter in law was as daring as her, remember, Siti and I was not even engaged yet.

My late wife path was so bumpy that it is a wonder her heart was still pure. Once, she called herself E.J. I wondered why because her name doesn’t even have these 2 letters. At first I was shocked, but at the end of her life I understand why. She was young and full of anger, and at the same time pointed an accused finger to her father. E.J. stands for Evil Johar. It was rude and cruel, she had her reason. Trees don’t shake without something or someone shaking it.

A little by little she shed her angriness, she became a sensitive person, looking to pleased some one else beside her, especially her brothers and sister. She was always thinking of others before herself, and it was my job to think of her needs. It was not much. She wanted me to be there for her and listened.

Not long, she started wearing a ‘tudung’. I didn’t persuade her to do so. She wore it on her own. I wanted to tell myself I had something to do with it by provoking her. I always bought her tudungs, and told her to keep it for future used, and I always told her that she look prettier and more radiant when she wore a tudung.

It was a great decision. My father was impressed and began to like her, thus our engagement, and that my dear readers will be in the next chapter.





...to be continued...

A mini (car) Poem

It began with an austin 7,
in 1959 it became a sensation,
even celebrities want to earn,
the minies...it want to be driven,

Alec Izigonez was the mastermind,
never thought he could see the sign,
a legend is about to shine,
until today the design is divine,

John Cooper was the culprit,
redesign it so mini can go around the circuit,
rally, touring, you name it,
the whole world can see the mini is great,

Mini is a flexible car,
looks small but the interior is spacious by far,
it can be a wagon, pick up or a family car,
after half a century it's still at par,

it even appears in movies,
The Italian Job and the Mr Bean series,
if there's a category in the oscar nominees,
surely that mini won in a breeze,

now mini can be fabricate,
to whatever design the owner feel fit,
anything can be done to it,
even if you want to put a nuclear jet in it,

From BMC to Morris,
from a prey to a beast,
from west to east,
mini awesomeness cannot be missed,

Owners and fan let us celebrate,
a legend, a sensation a car that is great,
50 years and still no sign of break,
another 50 years let us bake another cake...

p/s : I wrote this for Tish two years ago. He requested this to be recited at the official Mini 50 years celebration day, but unfortunately I have to work and did not get the opportunity to do so. The best part was at the end there were a lucky draw and the winner drive away a mini that he himself fabricated. 

done deal

Roboh Sudah

Roboh sudah rumah ayah,
yang ayah bina dgn penat lelah,
40 tahun berdiri megah,
kini sampai masa ia nya berubah...

Roboh sudah rumah n'cek,
satu ketika amat cantik,
masa mengubah sedetik demi sedetik,
rapuh papan bagai kayu baru berputik,

Rumah ayah sudah roboh,
setelah 40 tahun kami berteduh,
akhirnya tetap  ia jatuh,
dan kami melihat dari jauh,

Roboh la sudah rumah,
tapi tidak apa lah,
penggantinya bakal lebih gah,
dan kami sekeluarga akan segera pindah...

Semoga rumah yang bakal di bina,
bakal di isi dengan gelak ketawa,
bakal di isi dengan iman dan taqwa,
bakal bersama lagi selama mana yang ada.............

241110 done deal

A Year Passed Chapter 11

            I had an accident. I was riding back from Siti’s house. It was around 10pm. Siti told me not to go back, but of course I can’t spend the night. So I ride home. At the junction of Taman Dato’ Ahmad Razali I hit a car. I was going straight; the car was turning into the Taman. I couldn’t stop in time and hit the back of the car. My thigh hit exactly at the back of the car and my femur bone broke into two.

            I felt like I was in a movie, when I saw the car all I managed to say was “oh shit!” When it hit me, it was like a slow motion sequence, flying passed the white car, then hitting the pavement and ending it with….an AAAAaarg!!

            I heard a snap. My right bone had broken, to be precise, my right femur. I was in so much pain after I landed on the hard tar. Luckily I was wearing a full face helmet. I screamed. It was very painful.

The rest was a blur. What I remembered was I gave someone 2 numbers that I would like them to called, my parents, and of course, Siti.

            She came first, as her house was nearer to the hospital. She cried the minute she saw me. She was there until my father and brother arrived. I was hospitalized for a few days. They put a stainless steel brace and screwed it with my broken bone.

            This was it. The year that Siti and I proved our love for each other, but as they said; blessed didn’t came without a hefty priced. I was bed ridden, my right leg was casted.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

            Many people wondered why I haven’t written anything in my blog recently. This chapter is the reason why. I was having a dispute with myself should I tell the story and let the naked truth be told, or I skipped this whole chapter all together. So long I pondered on this, and yet truth be told I cannot. I decided that this part of chapter I will not write for the public view, to those who knew me well, who knew the story, keep it in the heart, and knows that I never stop loving my Siti, and I already put this behind me. I did forgive and forget.

            Sufficed to say that it made our bond tighter than ever, our undying loved for each other become more tangled than ever. I adored her, and I knew, at this moment, after this chapter (which is not told) happened, she loved me more than ever, in her heart and soul only I stand alone….

soulmate

...to be continued...

Just Wanted To Share

We lived in a beautiful country. We lived in a country that is in peace. As far as I know we have our freedom of speech, but to an extend where we don't make a statement about racism and religion that may provoke a chaos and a riot among all the races that so far living happily in one Malaysia.

          I have to be careful what I am about to say about myself, but this is not in any way provoking and poking about socialism and religion. It is about economical. It is also not about political but it is just me and my own financial sorry state.

          I am a bankrupt. And it is not my fault. I was helping a friend. I still remembered the very words he said to me when he asked me to help him; "Seven years is not long. Before you know it, it is done." He even came to my workplace with a bank officer to sign the agreement, so, from my better judgment, I signed. I had become a guarantor for a friend’s car, a Proton Satria. (this happened 8 years ago)

          To cut it short, I am a bankrupt because of this. I paid my own debts, without fail, but ironically, because of someone else mistake, I am one of the many. The car is gone don’t know where, and the people who is responsible was silent.

          What I have now is regrets. If only I said “no” to him. I am most positively still being able to make loans and what not. Now, I’m still paying for my house, my car which is not under my name, my personal loans, and my credit cards, all in due time, and all up to date.

          I think I’m nagging again, because this is not what I want to share about. As far as I know, I owed (or rather ‘he’ owed) around 50k. I have a solution to settle these debts and cleared my name. For the past weeks I thought about it a lot. I want to be able to travel again. I want to go and perform my hajj. With a bankruptcy title I cannot do this.  I am 38 years old. I will die sooner or later, and I want to clear my debts even though it’s not my own.

          It is a drastic planned. I may sell my house. With that money I can pay and clear my name (and his… (How life is not fair for you?))……………………………….

done deal 050511

Drive

I want to drive,
to no where,
with a fuel without refeuling,
with the tires without bursting,

I want to drive,
to where ever,
without me being sleepy,
without me being hungry,

I want to drive,
to what ever place,
without me being angry,
without me being what I am now,


I am tired...............
so tired..................
of.................being me.......


done deal 03042011

Her Family and I : Chapter 10

A few months later, after much persuasion she let me come up to her house and met her parents. I was a bit scared, but Siti’s parents actually are cool. The minute I walked in, they treated me as they known me for years. (Except questions about me personally) To tell you the truth, I expected scorned faces and demanded question, but it didn’t happen. Her father even offered me a cigarette.

            Actually, my father in law, don’t like me much at the beginning. He was just being polite. Mak in the other hand already likde me. After all she knew about me the last time and she knew that Siti is still deeply in love with me. Abah felt that I am too short, he preferred Azlan who was better looking than me, and have a steady job. Even Siti’s brother Azlan wasn’t that approval. He was very protective of his sister, and was afraid that I will let her down again, and once more, her sister will get hurt again.

            They were more concern when Siti quit after going out with me for 6 months. She quit because she was not satisfied with her job, and also Azlan, her ex-fiancé is still monitoring her schedule.  She felt that stewardess was not her calling anymore. She complained to me every time we went out on a date. So I suggested she quit. She also wanted to spend more time with me. She accepted a job nearby her house, a walking distance, as a receptionist. The salary was not as much as her previous job, but she was happy because she could see me everyday.

            I was working at Ampang Park, (I quit college same time she quit her job) as a display artist in Hankyu Jaya. It was near by her work place. I think this was the sweetest memory that we had when we were together before we got engaged. Every day at lunch time, I came and pick her up, and we went lunch together. We usually went to Titiwangsa Lake Garden, bought a ‘nasi bungkus’ then sat at a nearby bench and had our lunch, while talking. We always had something to tell and said to each other, even the tinniest and smallest issues. It was a memory that I will cherish forever. She don’t need much, she doesn’t mind who I was, what I work and what my transportation was. She was just glad that I appreciated her, and this time I brought her a single rose, everyday.

            Maybe you will think that I over doing it or maybe you think that I am crazy, but if I love some one I want to be with her most of the time. Every day, every moment, as Aerosmith said in their song; “I don’t want to miss a thing”. After finished my work, almost everyday I will go back to Siti’s house and spent my time with her family. The other reason I was there was I want to show the family that I am serious about my relationship with Siti. Some people say that if you want to marry someone you have to make her family and friends like you too. So, I want to coerce myself into their life.

             It was not an easy task, and not easy in the pocket. My salary was not much then, only three figures.. As I told you in the previous chapters of ‘Our Story’, Siti had two brothers. Azlan was 16, and Azli was 5. I always bring something for them, tidbits, toys or just something to eat. We had dinner together, most of the time Siti cooked for the whole family, and some time I cooked. Her parents had begun to like me and trusted me. I guess for me, it was fun. I was not sure what they thought of me, why I went there every single night. I think I did a good job courting the family. Even Azlan already thought me as a brother and always asked me for advices.

            Other time we went a family outing together. We went to Sunway Lagoon, Bird Park and Orchid farm among others. She always divided her time equally with me and her family. Holding hands in front of the parents feel awkward, but yet it just showed that she was very serious in love with me.

            I knew they accepted me when I was bed ridden and was hit by the flu. I had the chicken pox. I was 21 years old. It was around her birthday 14^th September. I called my friend, Elinna to help me. I asked her to bought 21 red roses, and a soft toy as chubby as me, (I surveyed it a week before I was sicked) and asked Elinna to delivered the presents to her office, but this was not the story I want to told you. Siti came with her family and came visit me. This was going to be the first time our family will meet each other. I was nervous.

They came, Abah, Mak, Azlan, Azli and of course my beloved Siti. I don’t care about others, but the concern in her eyes when she saw me was just the thing to make me better. It went smooth, our parents talked, luckily not about us. They told my parents that they were worried about me, and wanted to see how I felt. Azlan was lauging his head off, looking at me and Siti. We were blushing and abashed.

I did what I did to get approval from the family. Siti had a bad experienced with her fiancé, and I didn’t want her family thought I was the same. The truth was, all this was her idea. She knew her family better than I. Until now I am still very close to the family. I love them and I guessed the feeling was mutual. Her aunties and uncles, her nieces and nephews, even her cousins’ families, I love them all.

...to be continued

50 Tahun Sejati... untuk Ayahanda & Bonda

Pada malam jumaat itu,
Berkumpul semua diam membisu,
Ditemani dengan pelita yang lesu,
Lafaz terpateri menjadi tugu,

50 tahun berganjak sudah,
Perkahwinan antara Haji Yunus dan Hajah Subiah,
Masih teguh dan masih gagah,
Dibuai bayu, hujan dan bah,

Di Tambun hari Jumaat,
Di Bruas hari Sabtu sejarah terpahat,
Dengan izin Allah yang maha Hebat,
Bahagia bersama sepanjang hayat,

Sebelum pernikahan tidak pernah bersua,
Tiada sebarang surat, gambar atau suara,
Namun cantiknya adat dahulu kala,
Hanya menurut kata orang tua,

Berpindah ke Kuala Lumpur sehingga kini,
Dikurniakan tujuh anak rezeki Illahi,
Gembira kami sekeluarga tidak terperi,
Dengan doa 50 tahun masih sejati dan sejoli...

(15Oct1959-15Oct2009)

donr deal - 150909

Kami masih menari...

Abah masih berdiri,
Tuah, Jebat & Seri,
masih menari,
walau hati kami sepi,

Abah masih menahan hati,
Tuah, Jebat & Seri masih menari,
gelak tawa rawan hati,
hati kami masih sepi,

Abah rindu sebak menanti,
Tuah, Jebat & Seri masih menari,
Tuah Jebat & Seri juga merindui,
hati kami masih juga sepi,

Abah cuba apa saja memberi,
Tuah, Jebat & Seri masih menari,
menari dengan airmata mereka di pipi,
kerana hati mereka masih sepi,

Abah tahu setahun sudah pergi,
Tuah, Jebat & Seri masih menari,
Juga mengharapkan pengganti,
masing-masing terasa sepi,

Abah masih menepati janji,
Tuah, Jebat & Seri masih menari,
Abah akan turut sama menari,
Agar hati kami sepi tapi tak sunyi....

done deal 17012008

Our Story : Chapter 9 : Happy Time Again

Happy Time Again

            Since then, I hear love songs like I never did before. They were like an antidote and intoxicating. We were now an item, not a puppy love any more, but we were seriously in love. I knew that I found the one whom I would love to spent my whole life with. (I did. Well at least, her whole life) I didn’t want any other. I promise my self that she will be the one and nothing can ever change that. Not a single thing. We were twenty years old.

            We only met once a week, because she was then an international flight stewardess and she always flew abroad. Every single night, though I received her call. Even for three minutes it was precious. I made sure if she was working, I would be home before nine pm. She always called around that time. It was great. And each time I would ask where she was. She wanted to give me her schedule, but I declined. I told her that I was her boyfriend then, not her husband…yet. I didn’t’ want her to think that I wanted to hold her down. Furthermore I loved the surprises. She was in Dubai today, in Los Angeles in the next day, in Beijing the next.

            She did ask me every single time she called me if I wanted anything from which ever country she was in. My answered was; “you”. As any other couple who is madly deeply in love we always ended our conversation with; “sayang dia...” (Love him), and the answered was; “sayang dia jugak..” (Love her /him too) When she came back, we always went out on a date, our venue a bit far then, since I owned a motor bike, or we used my father’s blue proton. She preferred the bike, because she felt sorry for my father, whom had to walk to mosque. The other reason was I always had to go back before sun down, but the main reason was she can hug me from behind. She always said that she will never let me go again.

            Siti was not a scrooge. She doesn’t mind spending her salary on her family friends and me. So many times I told her that I don’t want anything except to be with her, but she was a stubborn lady. Sometimes he bought me clothes, a pair of shoe, we went out and have lunch and dinner at fancy restaurants, and even gave me spending money. I was embarrassed by it. I don’t want to be labeled as a money sucker. Once, I don’t want to receive anything from her, but then, she told me if I want to make her happy, please accept. I had a choice; seeing her happy face the entire date, or a dark cloud circling her head. I choose the latter. She knew at that time I was working part time, and still studying to be an architect.

            During our dates, the first few months, we were sneaking around. I picked her up at the small gate behind the police quarters. I don’t like it. I wanted to pick her up at her doorstep. I wanted to ask her parents permission to bring their daughter out on a date, so that if anything happened, they can blame me. I got my wished, but after I knew her true story.

            She was actually engaged. Her fiancé named was Azlan. (Yes! The same name as her brother) Azlan was also working in the same airline company as Siti, and he was the one who handled her time table. Azlan treated her bad. He took all she had, her salary was his. She didn’t protest. She knew what he did was wrong but she didn’t do anything. She let it happened. She felt obligated to love this disturbing bended evil maniac. She was enchanted by him, binded by a black magic.

            Once, she told me that, she asked Azlan for a help. She was sick and in bed. She was hungry and craving a ‘char-kuey-teow’ from Bangsar. He did come, to her house but it was just a tricked. He forced her to get up and went with him. (She was very sick) That’s not the end of it, they stopped by at an ATM machine and withdrew her money, and then they went to Bangsar (with a taxi) and bought the ‘char-kuey-teow’. They went home after that, and he left with her money in his pocket. After that she realized what he did to her, and noticed that she was actually ‘forced’ by an unknown entity. She went back to her home town and found a cure, but a cure not a 100% cleared.

He was lucky because after Siti and I were back together again, I never ever once did see him. I did search for him though, in spite of Siti’s disapproval, because I really love to re arranged his’ face structure.

... to be continued

Dearest Families and Friends...

Dearest Families and Friends   

             I am happy. As happy as the bird flying in the sky, and every sunset returned home to its love ones. Do not misjudge me by what I have written here. The missed conception of me mourning is not true. Yes, I missed her,  I still have sleepless nights, but in all the things that I have been through I do not mourn for her. (I’m not in a denial) I do recite Yassin every Thursday night. I do not have regrets. Instead, I am glad.

          I am glad she passed away early. There was no suffering. She was surrounded by people who loved her. She was a good Muslim, a loving wife and mother. She was the lucky few. By her passing, she teach me and those who she left behind a lot; love, friendship, and God the Almighty.

          I am glad and thankful for so many things. I have three beautiful children that I adore and love. I have my family and friends who supported me through thick and thin. I even have a girlfriend. (Sorry, ladies) I have my health, and of course I have Him to thank for all that I am thankful for. I accepted everything that happened to my life. What I wrote here was actually done years ago. (Except for "Our Story") She is gone, and I am moving forward with strive. …

          A friend (thanks Arish) called me and highlighted me about this charade that I have been minister in my blog. It is hard to explain… some time when the kids are all asleep, I have nothing to do. Television does not interest me anymore, and so does (do I dare to say this?) Japanese anime that I downloaded for my own personal view, does not interest me much. So, I write. Before I wrote I need a subject, and at that particular time and moment, I think of her. (I did wrote in the top of my blog “it is just anything that comes in my mind”)

          My novels stayed untouched, as I buried myself on “Our story”. All this I remembered in a flash, like a rerun old film in my head. I need to put it down somewhere, I need to tell my memories of her to someone, but it would take hours. Days, even. Mourning was not the reason I wrote this. Sharing does. Someone told me it is good for the soul.

          A friend also comment to me that I wrote too much about her, the stories that was so and too personal that she think it was not meant to be shared. It should stay buried. The stories should stay with me. She also said that I opened a very thin line of having the painful truth out in the open, and by doing so disrespect her. My story, was to her, should stay only between me and Arwah Siti, and should start after I married her. She said it will give a wrong impression to those who knew her, and to those who don’t. She was afraid that my children will suffer from it. I must say there are some truths in what she said, I could not deny it.

          But then again, that was not my intention. My late wife as I describe her as best that I can is like a flower, a flower blooming in the middle of the city with the pollution and what not. A flower that with so many disadvantage and so many hurdles to go through and reach the sun. She bloomed to become a beautiful, charming and bright flower. Hopefully my children would understand and their love for their late mother will be greater than ever.

          I don’t consider myself an artist, but an artist to write or draw need something to base on for their masterpiece. It does not reflect the true nature of the artist. Alfred Hitchcock did not become a serial killer.

          My point of having the skeleton comes out from the closet was simply because to inform people that He is listening and watching. Even how far you strayed away from the straight line, there’s always a ‘U’ turn somewhere down the lost road. I want to set my late wife as an example, not to distained her, but to praise Allah. HE has plan for all of us, and only He knows, and with His will I sincerely want to share the bad, the good and the ugly truth of life.

          I hope we learn from someone else experience, rather than experienced it ourselves. I hope that by doing so we can see a mere worm became a wonderful stunning butterfly. We are human, after all and made mistake, and hopefully “Our story” we can learn to make amends on our journey to bliss.

         

          Enough said, being a single father I learnt a lot. I learnt to be patient, lenient and appreciated those who surrounded me. I learnt to cook my children’s favorites dish, I learnt to pick up what a little girl want in her drawers, I learnt to make my own decisions and I even learnt the art of nagging. I guessed this is nagging. Too much had been said here. Sorry if I had wasted your time, but due to the circumstances, I have to explain myself, so there’s no feeling sorry for me and my children. I don’t want your sympathy (though I accept moneyJ), all I need is your friendship, advice and your love.

          I am happy with my life, folks I have parents who scolded me if I did wrong. I have brothers and sisters who helped me emotionally and physically. I have my friends who are there when I need them. I am happy with my life. I have Tuah, Aniq and Intan. I have a job that have no stressed and a salary to feed my family. The best of all I have Allah the Merciful and the most Forgiven and I know He listened to my prayers. What more is there? Everything is summarized in two words… done deal.

          In the mere future, I don’t mind being alone, in my own paid house. All I need is my astro, my internet, my books and a surau near by. I am calm and at peace.

          My apologies if I had misled.

Done deal 080311

Our Story : Chapter 8 : The 2nd 1st Date.

The 2^nd 1^st Date

I can’t find a single word to express and to explain to you how I felt the day she called. After the break up I felt guilty. I felt that I made a mistake, big mistake. I was regretting my decision a few days later, but my ego and male machismo was so high I didn’t call her and ask her back. When she called I was practically screaming her name in her ear. I immediately ask her to meet me. I want to see her so bad. We set up to see each other on the next day, 8.00pm, Ampang Park shopping, mall.

I borrowed my father’s car and went to see her. She wore a vertical blue and white stripe jump suit, and a loose shirt. I was there early, I want to make amends, but she was earlier. She smiled when she saw me, and offered her hand. She was stunning! Total different from the last time I saw her. She cut her hair short. (She had a very long hair before). she have this  glow that I guess I never saw before, or never noticed it, or maybe never acknowledge it. What I saw was a beauty for me beyond compare. My heart goes to her…and this time I am really in love with her, and I vow to myself to never let her go again. If only she accepted me again….

I have some money this time, so we went to a nearest fast food and had dinner. I talked, she listened. She talked and acted like there’s no space and no ridge between us. It was just, I guessed, at that time a casual dinner with a long lost friend. I didn’t force her to accepting me again. I just told her I was wronged and I am sorry, begging her forgiveness. I also told her that I missed her and that I was not seeing any one after I broke up with her.

She didn’t say anything about accepting me again. As far as I know she most probably have someone else, but it didn't stop me from rambling like an idiot. When the time comes to go back I send her home. She still stayed at the same place. She asked me to drop her at the back gate (there’s a small gate for entries and exit).

As she exited herself from the car, she leans over and gave me a kiss on my cheek. It was electrifying! It was my first kiss comes from some one that is not a family. She blushed and said, while stepping out from the car, “I never did stop loving you…”

I smiled and drove away. She never said that she accepted me, and it broke my heart. I enjoyed the time I spent with her that day, but I knew that (so I thought) it was too good to be true, to continue what we had before. I did break Siti’s heart first, maybe I deserved it. I went straight home, didn’t feel like going anywhere but sleep. I was done. I was hoping that at least she wanted to be friends, but she didn’t say anything. Her kiss still lingering on my cheek all night, it was like she just wanted to show me what I’ve been missing with my decision a year and a half ago…

Later that night she called, and she comes straight to the point. She told me she was a different person. I answered; I don’t care. She told me that she may not be the right person for me; I answered; I don’t care. She said that I will regret if we were together again, but I said; you guessed it people; I do not care. I told her that I missed her and I realized how much I love her. I will not ask about her past, but I promised her the future, and I will never ever say and asked to break with her again. She laughed that magical laugh, and said, okay.

Have you ever felt that you are drowning helplessly, and then a hand grab you and bring you to dry land? The relief; the heaviness of dread just lift up from your shoulder, as quickly as it came. It was like an invisible hand was holding your heart, grabbing it and gradually while holding your heart, making a fist, but then it suddenly let it go and your heart is pumping normally again. The phone in my hand suddenly becomes as light as a feather. Siti  and I talked till dawn….

1993

... to be continued

Our Story : Chapter 7 : 1st Break Up.

1^st Break up

As months goes by, she was happy. I was not. She got accepted a position as a stewardess. She was 19 years old. Everybody was happy and proud for her. She cannot wait to tell me the great news. I was shocked and doesn’t like it one bit. She will be exposed to a fast life and will meet a better man than me.

She will leave me, and so I thought. It’s the most difficult, regretful and the dumbest decision I made. I broke up with her. To my stupid logical explanation, before she dumped me, might as well I dumped her first. From my stupid point of view, she will be surrounded with far more good looking men than I. she will meet tall dark and handsome people, for I have nothing. That was a black day. I cannot even remember the exact date. I wronged her. I, for the first time, hurt someone. Her heart broke to a millon pieces. She didn’t cry out loud, but her eyes was leaking and her teardrops streamed down her cheek.

What I knew, after I dumped her she went back crying and told her mum that I don’t love her anymore. That’s when she got wild, she became a rebel. Just to forget about me. She went on and took the job with MAS. We lost contact after that. I have gone through life as normal as can be. I took my STPM in 1992. The result was not too shabby, it was average. I work and further my study at F.I.T., wanting to be an architect. The college was cheap; furthermore, my friends went to the same college, Amran and Tish. It was almost a year I never saw or heard any news about Siti. Not a single word.

In 1993, I already have a bike. I have a driving license. I went to college and I work part time in tumble tots. One day, out of the blue, around 9pm in the month of August, I received a call. It was her, the one and only who had a crushed on me, in 1986; Siti Azura.

The early year of nineties, hand phone was not yet own by everyone. We either used the public phone or house phone, provided by Telekom. Almost every house had one, and the numbers seldom changed, but only on special request or if the provider (Telekom) have to change it for various reason. My house number had changed previously (from 4567193 to 4518980) after I broke up with Siti. It was not intentionally, it was just an upgrade. We want to have a ‘call waiting’ service on our house phone. Many times people called but the line was busy. So, a total change of number was made for that single service.

My late wife was a persistent lady. If she wants something she will try her best to get it. My house phone was listed, in a very big thick book of phone directory. Siti, remembered my father’s name, so with that, she searched the big heavy book. She memorized the number but was afraid to call me at first. She intended to just say hi, and want to know how I am doing. (She also want to know either I was missing her or not because she was….so much)

Siti went on accepting the job she was offered. She was a stewardess. She learned a lot and from here and she becomes an adult. Like a flower blooming, she learned so many things. She learned to speak English better than me (when we were dating before, she doesn’t like me to speak to her in English), grooming and of course socializing.

After I broke up with her, she dated many men. She date men like she change her own cloth. She went on a rampage, and she socialize as most of the socialize stewardesses do. I cannot elaborate more than I could, but I think you got the point. Don’t ask me because I will not tell. Suffice to say, what I wrote before “been there, done that” type of lady is all true. This ‘adventure’ she’s been through made me love and care for her more, because she actually fragile, for me all that made her whole, made her who she was after, made her a better person…

But still, it was I who should be blamed for what happened to her…

1993

1992

...to be continued