When I'm gone (when I'm gone)
When I'm gone (when I'm gone)
You're gonna miss me when I'm gone
You're gonna miss me by my walk
You're gonna miss me by my talk
You're gonna miss me when I'm gone
This song kept repeating in my mind as we drove from the airport to my grandmother’s humble home. Scorching hot sun, tall buildings, careless drivers, the same trees, the same route, everything looked familiar yet so foreign. The Pearl of the Orient, the place where I was treated like a living princess, my comfort zone, my home.
As we reached the area, I looked at
the house with swollen eyes. I knew what was coming.
There my aunt was, eyes all bruised,
sadness towered over her. All she could do was cry as she saw
us and embraced us in her arms.
I’ve already prepared myself for
this. But I just had to peak through the open door to see if it was true.
Whenever anyone was about to enter the
house, you would see her petite frame sitting on the beige sofa
across the door. She’ll be in her Baju Kedah and kain batik
with a smile across her face. But the
smile and the small human was nowhere to be found.
She should be at the back like she normally do when she has lunch, I comforted myself. I rushed to the
back only to see an empty chair.
She could be in the shower, I again whispered to my heart. And so I scrambled to
the toilet to only be looking at an empty blue shower.
I ran out of reasons to tell myself
that this was all untrue. I was a day too late to see her being sent away. I
still can’t tell my heart that she’s gone, forever.
* * *
We were bracing for it. We knew she
wouldn’t shout but the least that we expected her to do was to tell me not to
go ahead with the relationship. She had a stern and a defeat look as she gazed
upon a picture of me, wearing a traditional black and white Kebaya, standing very closely to a very
handsome amo (white person) in a suit
and tie. It was obvious that we attended a formal dinner.
“Ni la boyfriend Na, Bik,” as my dad spread a cheeky smile across his face, trying to persuade my grandmother
that the man in the picture was in fact my boyfriend. Though he knew too well
that this wasn’t true.
With a long blank look and after a
good solid minute, she finally said, “OK. Kalau dah sama suka, Bik nak buat
macam mana lagi? Lawanya dia. Dia dah kerja ka dok blajaq lagi?” The fact that she acknowledged this
‘relationship’ was fine and that this amo
as a very good-looking man had us all roared in laughter.
Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing
wrong with mixed marriages. It’s just very uncommon and my grandmother had
already bickered at me about finding a good Malay Muslim boy years ago even before
I left Malaysia. I guess this amo was
the only exception.
With tears in his eyes, my dad said,
“Ken melawak ja. Ni bukan boyfriend betoi, ni player ragbi. Nama dia Richard
Kahui. Dia main untuk New Zealand.”
She finally realized that this whole
thing was a joke. Like a good sport, she even joked that Kahui should had been my boyfriend and she laughed away. A laughter that I would never be
able to listen to again.
I knew that there must be a reason
why I couldn’t send her away. Why Allah chose us to be away from her or why we
were a little too late to see her. Though I may not be able to figure out what
it is, I do know it’s for the best. Allah must have planned everything so
perfectly that even the greatest minds could not have created this brilliant
plan.
There is goodness in every single thing that happens to us even if we think it is the worst day of our lives. Life is a perception. It is truly up to you if you decide to accept everything as His tests or detest life and lead it on your own.
If only I continued with my studies,
which I have been contemplating for the past few months, I would not breathe in
this humid Malaysian air. If only I had a full time job, I would definitely not
have the chance to go to my cousin’s engagement ceremony. If only I was still
studying in Dunedin, doing a different course, I would have not known about my
long lost family.
You know that jerky feeling you get
when you fall in your dream and you’d suddenly wake up? This felt like that for me. A wakeup call reminding me that I don’t have much time left. There’s
still so much to do for myself, my family, my friends and people around me.
We were created to feel sadness,
pain and loss but without these, we would not be introduced to happiness, hope and love.
We have to be grateful that we are being tested. It is a sign that He hasn’t
given up hope on our flawed self regardless of how many times we have wronged
ourselves and Him. What is a journey if there isn't any bumps on the road? We just have to pick ourselves up and keep going.
Hug your parents, hug your grandparents, your siblings, and all your family members. Seek forgiveness from them. Reconcile with them. Because you're gonna regret it when the time is up. It is time to focus on the living and make dua for those who have left us. Even though it has already been a week, this loss will
forever be tainted in my heart.
May Allah place her in the best
level of Jannah and forgive all her wrong-doings in life. Ameen.
I’ve got my ticket for the long way ‘round
The one with the prettiest of views
It’s got mountains, it’s got rivers
It’s got sights that give you shivers
You’re gonna miss me when I’m gone
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