Night of Tuesday, 15th May 1973, I was in Kuala Lumpur about to have an early night in anticipation of the Teachers' Day Celebrations the next day. You see, it was my first year as a lecturer in the Specialist Teachers Training Institute and I was supposed to participate in an item with my students, thus I was very excited and looking forward to the special day.Suddenly the phone rang. It was my young brother crying hysterically, "Return home! Father's not well!" and he continued crying. Ah Meng, the sundry shop owner whose phone my brother used (we had no phone in the house then) grabbed the phone and told me point blank, "Awak Bapak sudah mati!" (your father is dead). I couldn't grab the meaning then because just the weekend before, I was home in Melaka, and I had chatted with Bapak. Some relatives drove me home that very same night. And all along the way I prayed and hoped that it was not true.
Bapak had a major stroke whilst watching his one and only favorite TV programme - World Wrestling. He got easily excited and involved whenever he was watching the show. The family had advised him several times the danger he was facing, knowing he had a heart problem. I suppose his time had come - never a second later nor a second sooner, as stated in the Holy Quran. He was 56.
Bapak had come to this country from his kampung, Muara Labuah, West Sumatra. Like most young Minangkabau men, he had ventured out of his familiar surroundings in search of a better prospect in life. I remember him narrating to me the difficulties he had to face in the late 1930's travelling down the mountain ranges of Sumatera and crossing the treacherous Straits of Malacca in scanty boats before arriving at the shores of the Malay Peninsula. He had come to Kampung Baru, Kuala Lumpur, where his uncle and family had settled earlier. To cut the story short, he tied the knot with my Mother, his cousin.
Then the young couple ventured out of the comfy of Kampung Baru after the birth of their first-born, my elder sister, to the Straits Settlement of Malacca (Melaka as known during the British regime). And hence started a new beginning.
I will continue this Memory of Bapak in the next posting, God willing.
Al-Fathihah to Bapak. You are always remembered.
3 comments:
Al.Fatiha.He is always in my mind Cikgu.
Thank you for visiting, Wir. Did you notice your auntie, grandpa and grandma in the photo?
I have heard this great name of TOKO BUKU ABAS BANDUNG. Backed in the 1960's in Masjid Tanah, Melaka my Abah used to bring us to patronage this book shop. My Abah being patriotic in nature; he make sure always buys at this shop first before finding an alternative at the other non Bumi Book Shop if there any.... And when I moved to town at the Malacca High School; once again I am honor to have the same brand name as my familiar book store.... Whilst the rest of the Malays are still "sleeping with complacent" this Great Man had ventured and I may consider this Great Man as "the Chinese" of the Malay; a great adventurous man in making the economy works for the next generation as well to open the eyes of the rest of the Malays communities.... A man who had taken Hijrah to the right meaning and who had practice it right to the end of his life.....
AlFatihah to the Great man.
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