gam gajah.

Last photo of you on one of your excursions to the beach with Busu.

Assalamualaikum Atuk,

I hope you are well, wherever you are now.

Unlike Beloved Nenek, you never came back to me. And I think you didn’t come back to any of us, apart from Mak Ngah maybe?

You must have finished all business here and was ready for the hereafter. After all, you did have a full and happy life.

A few weeks back, or maybe just over a month ago, I was at our local eatery – Jasema. It must have been one of our Thursdays. Thursdays are nights out, by the way. We were leaving the restaurant and there was an old Chinese man sitting alone at the table, eating a piece of roti canai.

He looked content being in his own world. He was okay he was alone. What seemed important to him at that point was the roti canai. As I walked to the car, I stole glances at him and caught the dhal dribbling down his chin.

Things like that can instantly transport me back to those times when you were still alive.

I was so badly reminded of you that I went home emotionally disturbed. I’m not surprised if I slept crying that night.

It may seem very superficial of me to be writing all this, let alone to think it because like I said before, we were never very close. But somehow, you were that silent presence which bound us like gam gajah. Always.

This year, we only had one iftar together. How pathetic is that? Of course we still love each other, even when we don’t meet up as often, but the family seems to have lost meaning with your absence. The void is so huge, I don’t know how to fill it in anymore.

I know you don’t expect me to keep us all united, Atuk, but it somehow feels like I must, by all means, do so. But to be honest, I think I am fighting a losing battle. I’m just a little person in such a big world.

I don’t know how different Raya is going to be this year because as it is, Ramadan is such a far cry from the last. I hoped that it wouldn’t be so different, but I guess I’m going to have to be content with this unwanted change.

I will continue praying that love will keep us alive.

We miss you. You were our superglue. 

Al-fatihah.

Love, Kakak.

Shy to comment? Well, never mind! Your reactions mean the world to me! Make me smile today :)