Friends are forever (Part 2)

In May of last year, I wrote a post about this good friend of mine who took me flying above KL city in a Cessna plane. Captain Norhisham Kassim and I went to the same boarding school in Kuantan. After leaving school in 1979, we lost touch with each other for a quite some time.

Over the years, I did hear that he went to flying school to become a pilot and that he flew for MAS when he got his wings. Whenever I fly on the national carrier on business trips, I'll always listen carefully to the steward's announcement, with the hope that my old classmate would be in the pilot's seat. It never happened.

When I first got to know my wife, I found out that she comes from Mersing, the same hometown as Hisham. Upon getting married, I further found out that my wife's family is remotely related to Hisham's family. His brothers and my wife's brothers are close childhood friends. It was during the wedding of my brother-in-law's son some years ago that my contact with Hisham was re-established. While Hisham lives in Seremban and me in Johor Bahru, we do meet quite regularly in recent years, mostly for gatherings or reunions of our schoolmates from the batch of 1979.

Last weekend, Hisham held an Aidilfitri open house for his K79 friends at his home in Seremban 2. It was quite a sizeable turnout. A total of 35 former teenagers now already 50 years-old, made the gathering a lively and memorable occasion. While most of my friends came from around Klang valley, there were a few of us who came from much further away such as from Kangar, Perlis and Pekan, Pahang. From JB, five of us turned up including myself. That just shows how close the bond is between us.

Our thanks to Captain Norhisham and his wife for being gracious hosts and for putting up with the crazy antics of a bunch of old guys and gals who still think they are seventeen.

Brothers and sisters who grew up eating the same nasi kawah

Remembering the one who has gone before us

Around this time 14 years ago, my mother-in-law passed away. She had been staying with us for some time. She was not in the best of health at the time, having suffered a stroke that paralyzed one side of her body and made her speech incoherent. She was also surviving with the aid of a heart pacemaker, which at the time of her stroke, was already at the end of its service and due for replacement.

Despite all the setbacks, my mother-in-law took her situation with all the patience she could muster. She hardly whined or complained. Redha is the Malay word for it.

I still remember the last few days before she left us. I was working at a construction project in Negeri Sembilan at that time, but was at home in Johor Bahru for the Hari Merdeka holiday. That evening, my wife noted that her mother was in severe pain and asked me to take her to the nearby clinic. I helped my MIL into a wheelchair and pushed her to my car. We drove to the clinic located about 10 minutes away. Dr. Ismail whom we personally know, took one look at my MIL and immediately advised us to go to the hospital. We drove straight to Hospital Tun Aminah and my MIL was admitted.

After the admission process was done with, I had a feeling that this could be the time. I told my wife to call her father (who was living alone at the kampung house) and one of her elder brothers. This elder brother would then be tasked to inform the other siblings, most of whom were staying in the Klang valley.

The next day, my father-in-law arrived from Mersing. Some of my other in-laws also arrived on the same day and many relatives came on the next. But by that time, my MIL was no longer conscious. She passed away early morning on her third day in hospital. She is now buried at the At-Tahiriyyah muslim cemetery in Kg Sri Pantai, Mersing.

Every year during Aidilfitri, usually on the 2nd or 3rd day of hari raya, the family would gather at her grave to recite the surah Yaasin and pray to the Almighty to pardon her sins. Actually, this practice of gathering at the cemetery at Aidilfitri is not a religious command but rather a cultural one. Many Muslim scholars have debated on this issue but it is not my intention to elaborate about it in this post. I am not against it because it is perhaps the only one time of the year where most of the family members can gather at the same place. While the original intention is for us to remember the dead, I believe it also helps to foster closer relations among those still living.

On my own side of the family, this ritual is not practiced. My mother has never brought us visit her father's or mother's grave during our hari raya trips back to her kampung. But one of these days, I would like to bring her to visit my grandparents' resting place because I have fond memories of them, especially during those happy days of hari raya where we would spend at the old kampung house together with so many of our cousins.

I was wondering the other day, if my youngest son has any memory of his late grandmother, because he was only 3 years-old at the time. My wife says that he has... which sort of surprised me a bit at first, since I myself can't recall anything from that age. But I guess it is possible for my son because my MIL was living with us for a few years.

My late mother-in-law, Hajah Sapiah Bt. Mohamad, passed away on 3rd September 1998. On the same date this year, one of our nieces gave birth to a healthy baby girl. The new baby is the 20th great-grandchild in the family.

Prayers for our mother at this year's gathering

Sometimes it doesn't last...

I have been pondering for a while whether to post this, the reason being that it is not a happy story. There is always this reservation of possible regret, or being ashamed or causing embarrassment. As the Malay proverb goes, membuka pekung di dada.

But then life is not always about the rosy things that happen. It is not always a fairy tale. We have to take the bitter with the sweet. Langit tidak selalu cerah. Writing about it may not change anything but hopefully it will serve as a reminder to myself that things do go wrong sometimes, and that there is nothing that we can do about it. Except to learn and persevere.

In the past year and this one, two of my closest kin ended their respective marriages. By some twist of fate, it is the youngest sibling of each family, one from my side of the family while the other is from my wife's.

My youngest and only sister got married in January 2000. It was a very happy occasion. I played a lead role in the wedding arrangement, helping to plan the proceedings and even became the `ketua rombongan', a role traditionally held by my father. Things went nearly perfect and we received praises from guests and relatives who attended. It was a good training for me because in the near future, the experience would be useful when I plan for the weddings of my own children.

My sister's marriage lasted almost 12 years. She and her husband divorced some time last year. I had suspected that things were not going well for quite a while but I have never asked her on the details. It is not that I don't bother but I prefer that she comes to me voluntarily for advice. She chose not to.

She has never revealed to me the real reasons for the break-up except to offer the well-used reply of `we are not compatible any more'.

So who is to blame, if indeed there is a need to find fault? As it stands and based on my own assessment of the situation, I would not blame my former brother-in-law. In the years of being married to my sister, he has behaved in a very respectful manner. He speaks in a soft tone and gets along well with my sons and his other nephews and nieces.

I know it is hard not to side with my own kin but that's the way it is. Some things will never change... although we pray hard for them to. Subsequent to her separation, my sister's life has been going downhill. I helped her out of trouble on occasions but sadly she does not keep to her promise of changing for the better.

Am I disappointed? Yes, I am.

Do I love her any less? No, I don't. But my patience has its limit.

Ok then, now to the other sibling story. Two weeks ago, during the aidilfitri gathering on my wife's side of the family, we received news that my wife's youngest brother is now back to being single. The divorce actually occurred a few months earlier but my brother-in-law chose to keep most of his family in the dark. Needless to say, my wife (plus the other sisters) are very disappointed. But we will leave it at that, for now.

Selamat Hari Merdeka to all Malaysian friends and readers. May the Almighty grant us peace and patience in all the tough situations we face in our daily life.

If you have nothing better to do...

I have just discovered this amusing little website that allows you to create word clouds out of any passage of text that you have penned down yourself or copied from somewhere. It is called Wordle.

The output from the word jumble can be formatted to a number of preset layouts, fonts and colours. Enough variations to fit whatever is your mood or fancy.

The following is the result of a wordle run using the text from one of my earlier blog postings. Now, is that cool or what... or perhaps something utterly unproductive. Don't blame me if your boss catches you wasting time on this thing...

Update 28.08.12

Can't resist doing another one. Here's the result from my Pantun 4 Kerat post...

Aidilfitri greetings

In a news article on The Star Online yesterday, a retired teacher laments the dying tradition of sending and receiving Hari Raya greeting cards. En. Mohamed Yahaya of Penang, collects such cards over the years and to date has more than 300 pieces in his collection. This year he has received only two.

Well En. Mohamed, I have to admit that I am one of those who no longer sends Hari Raya greeting cards. I stopped doing so around 10 years ago when it became convenient to wish my friends via sms. Nowadays, we have even more options to convey our greetings by way of social networking websites.

At one time, I was an ardent card sender. I had a mailing list of around 30 to 40 names which I update annually. It was a nice way of keeping in touch with friends and business associates. A personalised message written on a greeting card gives that satisfactory feeling of closeness compared to a short text message on a mobile phone that is sent to many.

When I stopped sending cards using snail mail, the number of cards I received of course, started to dwindle as well. This year, the postman has delivered to me only two. One from a former colleague who has never stopped the practice while the other is from a former employer. Of the many companies that I have previously worked in, this particular one has never failed to keep in touch. It feels good to be remembered.

I take this opportunity to wish my friends and readers a wonderful Eid Mubarak. May the Almighty keep us all in good health. Selamat Hari Raya Aidilfitri.