death, die, dying and the dead

Death. For every living things must die one day.

Death is such a sombre thing to even begin with. The sheer thoughts of death, and process of dying - when one's soul crosses that bridge and depart from this world onto the next is unimaginable and scary.

I remember year 1999. That was a sombre year for me. From my beloved grandpa (my dad's father) who passed away due to old age (he was 89 years old) and then my uncle 'Utih' Derih (my dad's older brother, he succumbed to his long battle with Parkinson) and followed by a very shocking death of another uncle 'Pak Itam' (my dad's brother in-law) just 1 month after uncle 'Utih' passed on...that year was our family 'Black Year'. So much so, even my school friends were saying how weird it was to have strings of death in one family (all from my dad's side) - and true enough, I had to went back to my dad's hometown which was in Lubok China for all three funerals and for that skipped classes (i was in my SPM year - so it was a big frown to skip classes to my teachers). 

As if that was not enough, year 2000 opens with another sombre passing. This time my beloved grandma (my dad's mom) was taken away from us and met her Creator. Grandma ( I called 'uwan') suddenly fell ill and was admitted to Seremban Hospital and we learnt that her liver's was not functioning well and that was the reason her stomach seems bloated). Uwan didn't suffer too long, within a month after she was diagnosed with that, Uwan passed away...I remember vividly that sad night, when the doctors told us to take her home as the hospital's given up hope on Uwan, we already started to cry. And as Uwan was transported back to her home, my relatives and I, convoyed from Seremban to Lubok China like past midnight with the ambulance leading the way. My parents were in the ambulance as well...and suddenly just right at the corner before Uwan's place, the convoy stopped. There was panic and commotion. And everyone just literally stopped and leave their car and started running....so was I. My cousins and I ran as fast as we could and I was literally screaming "uwan, uwan..." with tears coming down...I knew Uwan has left us. who knew that she wanted to leave us from her own house and not the hospital. All of her children and almost all grandchildren and great grandchildren of hers were there witnessing her passing. All of us cried, inconsolably. That night, was the longest night I felt...all of us didn't sleep much, and kept Uwan companied. 

However, just as we thought the dark skies were cleared for us, just few months after Uwan's passing...my dad's younger brother and also his closest buddy whom I called 'Acik' Bakar, followed suit and succumbed to his long battle of Diabetes. For the first time in my life, I saw my dad looking so terribly sad, grief-struck, devastated. We knew he felt his life is much more emptier than it used to be now that Acik is gone...his baby brother. Our favourite uncle as well...Acik was loved by many. And I loved him dearly too. During his last few months and warded in HUKM with his health  deteriorating...my parents would never fail to visit him and my baby sis and i would tag along. We would sleep in the corridors of that cold, long alley nearby his ward often losses sleep and would resume life just as normal the next morning. At that time I was still waiting for a place in Uni after SPM thus often I would catch on some sleep in the morning till afternoon! and by 4pm after dad's back from office - he would take us all to HUKM and stayed there for many hours....and this was the cycle again and again....

now, 15 years has passed - my dad's siblings are down to four - with the eldest  we called 'Pak Ngah' and then aunt 'Mak Itam' (the widowed of Pak Itam), aunt 'Mak Lang' (also a widow for more than 30 years) and lastly my much beloved dad, who his nieces and nephews called 'Achek'. At this point, pak ngah is quite frail and so is mak itam - both in & out of the hospital quite often...even dad is not doing so well post-prostate surgery, he's never been the same. Only Mak Lang is still looking so strong and healthy.

I missed dearly all of my beloved uncles and grandparents. I missed those days we would go back to 'kampong'. I missed so much my Atuk and his stories during the war in Malaya, Atuk was also fluent in English, Tamil, Hokkien and some Japanese. My Atuk, the 'stubborn son' of his dad - one of the richest guy in Lubok China in the 1940s, in fact all of Atuk's brothers made through formal education and became 'somebody' except him who was known to be 'stubborn' and didn't want to do what his father told him to. he didn't want to help with the family business and 'stubbornly' stayed away from his family's wealth - doing all sort of odd jobs to make ends meet. My Atuk left the comfort and lived as 'nobody' ...he was an educated man who ended up as a lorry driver. 

I also missed my Acik Bakar, who was very kind, fatherly, and so giving. I remember he would repeat calling me by my full name until i answered him as "yes Acik Bakar" instead of simple "yes"...he was so strict on manners and was such a family guy. Being the last in his family, he had the opportunity to finish school to uni level - he was a PTD (high ranking government officer) and thus was the only siblings of my dad who was well-off. BUT he never lost his ground and treated us all with kindness. I remember him as a funny guy too. (just like my dad, always cracking jokes).

AlFatihah to all of them. Atuk, Utih, Pak Itam, Uwan and Achik. I know all of you are now resting well in heaven. Wait for me, for my time will come...and we would rejoice once more in the everlasting jannah insyaAllah.

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As for me, 2015 too have seen many deaths thus far. First, there was the shocking and so inhumane death of my dear university friend whom I've known since 2000 - Allahyarham Rais Ramzidi Rrahim. Rais, was such a significant friend in my life. He was my classmate since day one in UiTM and we kept in touch even way after I got married and all. Rais, was very soft-spoken, petite guy, nice and always smiling. Rais was the only friend who would always called me up every now and then, and would never failed to asked about my mom's health. I named my second child, Raessa which is the feminine name of Rais - that means "the wise" in Arabic/ Islam. I cannot lie that when I was looking for a name that starts with the letter 'R' (as to sync with my husband's name that also starts with R) I thought of the name Rais and inevitable thought of Rais, my friend. In fact, I wanted to tell him that I named my daughter just like his name...because that name just so nice & beautiful...Rais was killed by his own construction workers who've strangled him with some cables, beaten him up and ditched him to rot in his own bathroom in his parents old house (which was under renovation) only to be found 36 hours later....the killers (believed to be indon workers, still running free - reckon have fled the country...). When I learnt the news about him, I couldn't help but cry my eyesballs out....I did, cried alone in my office...I thought of his face, I can hear his voice and even recalled that sheepishly shy smiles of his..:(( 

Rais, my dear dear friend...you are sorely missed. Even your bloody murderers scot free, know this, you are now safe in heaven...no one can ever hurt you my friend. Al-Fatihah Rais Ramzidi, may your soul blessed by Allah and rest well my good friend. 

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And on a national level, the passings of famous sports commentator Dato Hasbullah Awang with his legendary remarks such as the "oh sayang sekali..." everytime one misses to score a goal....and of course Allahyarham Tuan Guru Nik Aziz Nik Mat the former Kelantan MB and PAS's spiritual leader...Lee Kuan Yew also passed away, and more recently we are saddened by the passing of another prominent political figure and a statesmen, Tan Sri Jamaluddin Jarjis who was killed in a helicopter crash in Semenyih after attending the PM's daughter wedding in Pahang, 

Tan Sri JJ as he was fondly known just by his initials, was one of PM best buddies and significant malay leader, an MP from Rompin which is also my husband's grandparents hometown. I personally do not know him, but i've met him several times during those years when he was the MOSTI minister during my short journo stints - he was a sharp minister, brilliant economist, certified engineer, but most of all he was so down-to-earth, kind and approachable VIP, a minister. cooperative to journos which is a trait all journos appreciate. 

AND my last honour to have met him and worked with him was during one of UMNO's Selangor roundtable meeting - I was involved as the rapporteur for economy's section which had him as the Chairman. I wanted so bad to snap a selfie with him, but due to the overwhelming work that I had to finish in such a tight deadline and not to mention of a subject that is quite foreign to me ( i dislike economy!) LOL - thus i didn't seize that moment. But I remember that time I came in 5 minutes late  (or rather he was super early just like most of those big guns who attended the economic meeting, such important part of the whole UMNO meeting) - my hands trembled as I was typing away things that I did not understand, and often there were many typos and pauses and Tan Sri JJ would stop and point to the screen and corrects my typing (just when I taught he didn't care about such petty things like my job as 'typist'). 

For the haters, say what u want about this man, but he was an exceptional leader - top scorer of his days , he was one of the very few smart ministers in malaysia and UMNO. and now we've lost another great mind in this counrty. AlFatihah Tan Sri JJ :((

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I often wonder and shivers in fear of what my end would be...what it would be for my loved ones. my parents, my husband, my daughters. For I've sinned so much to even deserve a decent passing...but I hope if I am taken away to meet Allah Almighty, that I'd go in peace, with my body intact so that my loved ones would remember me as that, that my death be swift and Allah be gentle with my soul for his keeping. I pray that Allah do the same with my much beloved parents, my loving and kind husband and my two beautiful daughters. 

O Allah forgive my sins. Grant me your jannah. And keep me and my loved ones, safe. Amiin.

Kullun Nafsin Za Ikatul Maut

Kullun Nafsin Za Ikatul Maut... Innalillahi wa inna ilaihi rajiun...may his soul rest in peace. AlFatihah and condolences to the family of Datuk Bukhari Che Muda, the CEO of AlHijrah TV and was also the ex-COO of TV9. He suffered brain tumour/cancer and was reportedly ill/ condition worsen since the past 4-6 months. 

I am just a figment of his past. 

During my short stint as TV9 journo, I had the honor of knowing him, as that Big Boss. And, he was quite close with all his staffs (TV9 wasn't as big and for the news department, we were very new thus he was on close monitor on our progresses).

I remember he was a soft spoken man, who talks little and smiles a lot. And if he's angry, his face will turn red (as he has a very fair skin).

And of course, my most memorable time was during that "black episode" of my life. I and another soul went in to see him and...well, the rest I couldn't say was the fondest memories or experiences I've had with him. BUT, he did in the end "granted" my renewal. 

As numero uno at that time and who has my fate in his hands, he did graciously "save" me. And for that, I must thanked him. 

When he resigned as the COO, he got to be the CEO of another tv station and must say, many...many TV9's staffs follow suit. Berhijrah as the say. Aptly so in a TV station called "AlHijrah". And right about 2 years in operation, he was bestowed the honorary title of 'Datuk'. 

Guess that's about what I know of him.

And, if it's not due to my hub working in the media realm, I wouldn't know about his deterioarating health due to cancer. 

And, in the final moments, my ex-Editor in Chief were the one who keep me updated with his condition.

Alas, this one man is gone. A man who has touched life of many. As the head of 2 TV stations. It was reported he died at 6.08 this morning, and when I received the news, was up for Subuh prayer, and noticed the weather was somber, rainy and cold. As if in mourning of his passing.

AlFatihah to Datuk Bukhari and my heartfelt condolences to grieving family. In Shaa Allah, his soul is placed in the everlasting jannah. Amin. 

One last, cold kiss.

Salam.

It was just like any other day. Working as an executive in a corporation, where she works 5 days a week, 8 hours a day. Career life is carefully juggled in between raising an adorable tot and cooking up a storm almost every day after work for that other half. He dislikes take-outs. Naturally, weekends would be a day she’d look forward to each week. For that is the only time she would sit back, relax and not really worry about multitasking. Weekends, is purely for family. She loves this routine, and doesn’t mind at all that she might be viewed as not living up a more ‘colourful’ or ‘happening’ life, like most of her colleagues.

But this weekend would be the toughest. Life without the other half who is sent for an outstation work for a week, added to that she was feeling a bit under the weather, her son included. For a tiny frame such as hers, being sick for a couple a days would mean losing weight just as easily and that would drain her energy even more.

“Oh Almighty Allah. Give me the strength. For I sure could use that this weekend”

She would find herself praying in whispers every now and then. She looks over her shoulder and sees her lovely son is fast asleep. Her mind is racing about planning her day, tomorrow although fatigue would love for her to just shuts down and embrace the gentleness of the silk’s duvet on her skin. Quickly, she realised that there is a book she has yet to finish. Reading had always been her passion. But ever since she got herself “mama” title, her readings are being downsized to the back of a cereals box. Or chocolate wraps. She has a sweet tooth.

Her equally tired hands reached out the side table where a book halfway read was left untouched by her since last two months. It reads “Memento mori, memento vivere". She continues reading a chapter.

Death is never an easy thing to deal with. What is death, really? Nobody knows for sure how death feels like, as no one has ever sprung back to life, and lived to tell the tale. It is in this uncertainty, the fear of the unknown, maketh death a concept that is feared by many. When someone dies, we know that person has stopped breathing. Life has seized to exist and the person becomes nothing but a body. Lifeless. Helpless. To the believers, this empty, elusive concept that is death makes us mere mortals. It is what separates us as the subordinate to the powers that be. Surely, there will be time when we would come across stories of people that have gone ‘through’ that ‘tunnel of light’ and back. Stories such as these, rare as it may be, will give goose bumps for the fear hearted. But would be totally rubbished by the cynics. Indeed, death is man's worst fears.

She flips the page. Checks on her son who is sleeping next to her on the same bed. No, I am not spoiling him and I am just lonely, she finds herself muttered. What does it feel to lose someone? Someone you really love? Someone you've shared your life with? This is a question she finds herself struggling to answer and truthfully, hope would never need to face with. It is a scenario, she can only imagine. Yes, there had been some deaths in the family, but never involving the immediate member of that nucleus family of hers. Yet, the pain and sorrow was still devastating.

“I still cannot believe Hitomi has left us. His passing is too sudden and shocking.” She looks at the other half and sharing her thoughts yet again on the recent demise of a dear friend of theirs. The other half doesn’t seem to be interested let alone concentrating on her. She gave him a nudge.

“Mama, everyone dies. Today it’s Hitomi. Next, it could be you or me or Annie, our irritating neighbour of which I wouldn’t mind at all if she’ll be gone too soon and sudden on any of these days. Life goes on. I’ll be ok if you go first the same way I hope you are if I were to go first.” The other half smirked.

“Do you think you can face it if I were to die first before you?” She quickly throws that question to the other half. Silence. The other half seemed to not care as he resumes back to immersing himself to the sounds of his song lists, with soundproof, super in-ear headphones. Equally occupied are his hands, glued to a darling, super sleek, white tablet he had recently purchased.

This non-responsive act the other half keeps serving her is not new and verily, never been pleasant, but she has learned to adapt to it and consoles herself every time the other half does it. Her inner voice tells her the other half cares for her. He just lacks emotion. She reassures herself. He must care for me and be crushed if I were to die before him, because that is what people would be if their beloved spouse dies, isn’t it? That’s what you see in the movies. Please look at me and for once say that you care for me. Her inner voice keeps on badgering the mind. Please. She begs further. Please. Her inner voice becomes weaker.

Please.

She could feel cold tears running down the cheeks. Cold. Icy cold. She lifts her hands to wipe them off quickly as the other half hates to see her crying. Hands were lifted but she couldn’t actually wipe the tears. The cheeks were not wet anymore. The only thing she felt was her cold, chilled cheeks. She tries to get up and sees her son is no longer beside her. She panicked. She looked around to find him. Nothing. Again, that coldness engulfed her. It is so chilling she tries to find that comfy duvet of hers, but that too was missing.

“Mama!” There it was a familiar voice yet no familiar face for her to see. That voice was getting louder as she tries to find it.

“Mama!” Confusion seeps over. She gets more disoriented. Light headed.

She was to find herself again, tearing up inside. Where is thee?

“Here, mama. Don’t cry, don’t be afraid. It’s going to be ok. You’ll be fine.” That voice says. But, still there was no image only sound.

“Just so you know, I lied. All this while, I was lying to you. I will never be ok. I will never be the same. I cannot live without you. Who would take care of us now, mama? Mama, papa loves you. So much.” 


That voice was breaking up. She finally starts to see the face. That familiar face uttering that magical words she had long to hear. This time, there were no more tears. She was crying a river. Yet, a cold river that couldn’t be felt but she knows, the tears are real. She feels her other half’s fingers on her cheeks, caressing ever so gently. She could feel the love. The love she had thought was diminishing. She would then feel his warm lips against her cheeks. That broke her. She feels her throat choking up, wanting to say back to this utterly devastated, sad familiar face that she is sorry and...she forgives him.

“Mama, my other half... I am sorry that I could only now kiss your cold cheeks and not when it was full of warmth, life. This cheeks with its dimples every time you smile... I will miss em all. Mama, I am guilty of this one, last, cold kiss”. And with that, the other half cries uncontrollably, the first time she has seen him that way.

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For every death, there would be a funeral. They say, funerals will give closure. It is that final chance to say goodbye and part ways with the departed. TODAY, unfortunately, I have again said goodbye to another departed soul. A soul that was ever so kind, gentle and loved by many. She has a face of an angel, that was always smiling. She, rarely gets angry as if 'angry' is never on her vocabulary.

She, was Allahyarhamah Nur Syaleza Jaffar (March 1981-July 2012), a mother to a beautiful tot, an obedient wife and a daughter to a loving parents. But to me, she was an ex-colleague, that was ever so helpful. When I started my career back in the days at that place, only the three of us; Azley, her and I were LC staffs. Yes, we started from the 'lowest' point of the 'food chain' (although she has started work a few months earlier than me).

(Above) Her FB profile picture that she had just recently changed. Seen here at her workstation

As LCs, we would always "look out" for each other everytime of the month when salary is due. This was because, our salary were paid in cheques. I remember there were a few times I would bank-in her cheques and that was when I realised her salary was even lower than me. Yet, I was always complaining about my predicament, whereas she would always say "Nak buat macam mana Aishah. Takpelah." (Translation: Oh well, What can we do Aishah. It's OK). Yes she is the epitome of fine muslimah-soft-spoken, gentle, caring, always positive. Hence, I called her "kakak" although we're only one year apart in age. Yet, she and Azley persevered whereas I, as the writings in this nonsensical blogs have it; bowed out 'half-way' through my fight.

Thus, when she finally got a permanent employment and better increments only quite recently, I have nothing but admiration for her endurance and passion in that place. She was a real hardworker, always put others' need above hers. Her job is only administrative, but she oftens go that extra mile, 'spoiling' us with her careful, systematic work e.g. she would complete the necessary details in our claim forms etc. That place I remember is quite lacking in computers. So, often we would "crash" her workspace, using her pc for leisures and she never throw a fit to any of us.

Kullun nafsin za ikatul maut. For every living creatures must die. It is indeed as promised by Allah. Not a second too late. Her passing is sudden and tragic. She has indeed gone too soon.

Al-fatihah Kak Syasya farhana (a nickname given by another ex-colleague of mine), may you rest in peace and Allah bless your soul and place you amongst the syuhadas in jannah. No more multitasking, no more worries, just be...happy.

Although I have left the place for 2 full years, the memories of that first four colourful and challenging years at that place will never be forgotten. She was unlike any other admin executive. She was part of the beating heart that was vital in TV9's operations. And within that close perimeters, all of us developed a bond of more than mere co-workers. We were all like small, extended family to each other.

My dua for you Kak Syasya, and thank you for giving me the chance to see you for one final time, bidding goodbyes and for that one last, cold kiss on the cheeks. You are as radiant as I remember you to be.

Al-fatihah.

For more information and updates on her death, you can refer to Hazrey and Mazidul Akmal Sidik alternatively for personal accounts on her, check out En. Lokman Hamidi and Hilmi Ali.
 

PS: the "story" in the earlier parts of this entry is purely fictional, concocted from my unstable emotions in reference to this loss, fuelled with my wild, nonsensical imaginations in trying to convey that difficult moment when one part ways with their beloveds. usually, we would give a gentle kiss on the cheeks of the deceased, that one last, cold kiss. Kak sya, you will always be remembered, may justice prevails for you. Aamin.