My Ode to Tuk Yan

You know in life, there are things that are meant to be, and there are things you just can't escape.

It was one of those normal nights where I finally came back from work and decided to get some studying done because I know I'm lagging behind. I also know everytime I try, I will end up invariably somewhere on the bed with all the books and papers scattered around. But I think I did something that I don't normally do: turn my phone from silent to normal mode.

And I think it was meant to be as I got the call from my brother.

After a brief session, we agreed on going back first thing in the morning after Subuh. I couldn't sleep for a wink for so long, with lots of replays coming to my mind. (Afiq also experienced the same and he wanted to suggest to drive back that very moment. But he didn't and even if he did, we were both not in a position to have the energy or awareness to drive.)

* * *

Being around a few hundred kms away from home makes driving back somewhat a chore: I know if I reach the Johor-Melaka border, I actually just reached halfway. And I know it takes about 45 minutes from the toll right to the place I call home. So to make the journey home worthwhile, it had to be at least a 4-day holiday as I'd spend 2 days driving to and fro. 1 day at home just isn't enough.

My brothers and I last saw Tuk Yan during CNY holidays and he wasn't really in a great shape. He was sleeping the entire time we were there so mainly we just talked to Nek Bisah. When we left, I didn't want to wake him up but I think we shook hands anyway and he groggily stirred.

I do remember a visit before the last time, somewhere back in November 2009, and I can't believe I didn't document it down in this blog, coz I normally would. I remember sitting across Tuk Yan's bed and he was sitting up, chirpy and talking. He regaled us with the same story about his youth, about when he was young and how he worked at a port and he was known as Salim (using a nickname perhaps to make it easier for others to remember?). A white guy showed up and started asking him questions and soon enough he was taken over to the white man's company and started to build Batu Rod (road). He fondly spoke of the Chinese family who adopted him when he was there and showed his proficiency in one of the Chinese dialects as he monologued his way through.

"Aku ni dah umur 94 tahun ye, dah bonus dah ni.." and then he took a piece of envelope and wrote down the numbers 9 and 4 with an orange crayon. I was impressed, to say the least, as to my knowledge Tuk Yan did not get a chance to go to school. Nek Bisah did, although only up to Standard 3. Maybe Kak Cik can help me with some History lessons here.

Oh yes, he wrote down that he is a Haji.

* * *

We reached Pontian in record time after averaging a speed well above the limits of law. However, for some strange reason we had to send my mum to SDPB first as she was supposed to go for an exam. By then, Dad already called me and said the prayers are going to start.

There were so many people, I felt alien. Dad had to usher us inside and then I saw Atuk Yan already wrapped in the white cloth. I didn't know what I felt or how to react - it felt surreal yet it is real. I thought I could tough it out but my eyes welled up just the same. I needed to take some time to gather up some strength to kiss Tuk Yan goodbye, and when I did my heart just broke. After that I was in a daze only to find myself being consoled by Id who was in tears as well.

We then went to grave to see the burial and stayed on for the talqin being read by none other than Pak Ngah. As he rightly said, the talqin is more of a reminder to the living.

I really didn't know what to say to Nenek apart from "I'll come back for the tahlil tonight".

* * *

On the way back, Afiq mentioned that one the things Nenek told us when we last visited him was "Atuk ade cakap, bile laa aku nak pergi ni, menyusahkan kau aje".

I don't think you troubled Nenek at all, Tuk Yan.

Farewell Tuk Yan. I'm going to miss you.