mdrazali's blog

WHERE DO I BEGIN.... PART IV (FINAL)

I cant remember how long we sat there but not sitting stone still and communicating in whispers made it fun actually. Then the next ceremony began with close families; the` Tepung Tawar' Ceremony. The tepung tawar started with the closest in family hierarchy, ie; the parent first followed by brothers and sisters. Then only the most honoured guests followed suit. I still remember my beloved elder sister solemnly at first going through the ceremony, then acknowledging my smile of love and appreciation for all she had done to me, playfully swiped my lips as she put the kismiss (if not mistaken) to my mouth as part of the ritual. We loved each other unreservedly. I never for once doubted her love for me.

I remembered my late father-in-law cupping my head in his palms and smiling into my eyes in that certain way that hint at hope, wish and a discharge of responsibility with a tinge of sadness. I appreciated him for that gesture and that look. My father and mother just went through the motion. They had passed the main role of the wedding to my sister and brother-in-law who was a cornerstone of reason and good influence in my early upbringing. I shall never cease to be in debt to him, known as Abang to us, the siblings. Also there was the beautiful Kak Zah; wife of the then Chief Minister of Kelantan who was related to my father-in-law. She stood out among the crowd through her bearing and courteous good mannerism; like a rose among the mundane lillies. Even her laughter was dignified and enchanting, polished through the many, many hours of social functions as the wife of the State's Chief Minister.

The ceremony being at night, the guests slowly went back and I had not seen them off, being lead here and there through the events. That was most improper and I was chastised latter by my mother for that. I was naive in the way of social behaviour and did not appreciate that fact at the time. I even failed to see my parents off and just followed through the events as directed by the acting wedding planner; wife of Abang Him who was the one responsible to introduce my wife to me. Abang Him was the photographer. He owned a Leica SLR camera when most were on the staple diet of Japanese makes. Photographers acknowledged those with a Leica as those with distinction. It was snap, pose, snap, repose, snap, snap sequence amindst laughters and shyness. It helped greatly to make me relax and enabled me to settle down quickly among my wife's family members.

The activities continued well into the night. Soon it was time to retire to bed; me to my new place with a partner whence before I had been sleeping alone. It was another benchmark in life; sleeping with a partner instead of alone and dreaming together into the land of paradise where Adam and Eve had lived, loved and passed through the land of enchantment together in bliss. It was downright uncomfortable at first after a lifetime of sleeping alone; giving in to your own private fantasies and doing things in your own privacy you would not want anybody to know and see. It need not be lewd acts of giving reign to sexual fantasies. It can be just a mundane necessary act of scratching away the itch in that unmentionable places or yawning away in complete carefree abundance. Those things you'd rather do in complete privacy, not even in front of your wife.

As time flowed into the night, the other members of the family discreetly left you alone to enter your marital chamber and for their daughter to follow. It was downright uncomfortable to enter the room trying to look as normal and mundane as entering the toilet. How is that possible on the first night of your wedding? Camouflage as hard as you want by yawning hugely and pretending to be very tired and sleepy, everybody know that it was play-acting. So sheepishly I dragged my soles along the floor and murmuring the salam among huge yawns; very, very conscious of averted glances of others trying not to notice and to act normal. Soon I was there in the semi-darkness, fully awake now, all acting gone and all senses pitched to abnormal high the moment I was inside alone. It was quite a while before a creak sounded at the door and a beam of light pierced through the slightly opening door as a silhoutte emerged inside and putting the bolts securely on, glided softly to my waiting form....... From here on is absolutely a nobody's business.... BYE.

WHEN THE END LOOMS NEAR

The end of days for most is a mystery. We do not know when we will be called upon to depart this life and continue our journey to the next. However, for some, it is almost a certainty. A terminal cancer victim will be counting his days, living in moments rather than in days or months. An AIDS victim is also quite sure of his end; it is just a matter of time. My auntie is also counting her remaining days.

My auntie is the last remaining of my late father's siblings. I have loved her all my life. I will always remember her weather-beaten feature with burnt scars around her mouth. I never asked for the cause and was never offered. It just remained a mystery and will always remain as such. She always smiled on seeing us; real smile that reflected in the shine of her eyes. She defended us when father was enforcing his strict discipline. Only she could interven father during such time because he had a soft spot for her. She is Mak Cu to us and she is now at the plastic end of an elastic graph chart of her life.

I had always remember Mak Cu as one who endures all that life thrown upon her and never complained. Even when she could barely walk because of her knee joint problem, she just scoffed at it saying that it did not matter because she could sit comfortably all day long doing her business of selling fruits at the local market. She never complain of our infrequent visit (unlike another auntie) and just be happy for our visit. Only when we asked forgiveness of not able to visit during the last festive season that she mentioned expecting us then. As such it came as a big surprise to us when she complained and moaned of her failing health and constant pain during last Hari Raya visit.

Today, I saw that she is teetheringly holding on to the last remains of her hard life and I wept inside for her. She no longer moan. It is now plain acceptance. The shine in her eyes is no more. Her bowel control is gone, her mental alacrity is rapidly diminishing. And she just lied there, huddled on her bed with plastic lining next to the 'lantai jarang' (wooden floor with planks intemittent with empty hole). A low plank was nailed to her doorway to prevent her from roaming outside her room, now that she no longer have control nor feel of her bowel discharge.

She is staying with her only living son and daughter-in-law who looked after her. They are ordinary, poor kampung folks earning daily living selling fruit at the local market and toiling the small piece of land around their house. Now this brings an added burden to them. Though they were happy looking couples who always seem delighted at our visit, we know their hardship. And this old house where they lived with Mak Cu is all they can afford.

And Mak Cu lies there, looking into the horizon, may be seeing the Angel of Death slowly turning towards her direction and amidst shivering body under her blankets, just waited patiently, no struggle, no reluctance and no remorse.... Just plain acceptance. Who said that the end of days is a mystery???? At this moment, Mak Cu would deny this if asked of her....