September came too soon

Kalau lah lelaki boleh belajar jadi macam ini, takdelah aku ni jadi orang yang roll my eyes bila orang tanya bila nak kahwin macam tanya aku bila nak dapat kanser. Aku mungkin lagi gatal nak cari calon adalah. Haha.

"my husband really admirer your artwork since he was studied until now."

Ngahahahaha dah lama tak baca benda kelakar. Kalau tak reti nak tulis in English, tulis sajalah dalam BM. Teringat aku tentang a fellow blogger, but itu cerita lain hari.



Kebelakangan ni asyik teringat datuk aku. Tokwan. Maybe sebab nak raya kan. Tapi raya tahun ni balik Klantan. Huhu. Dah lama gila raya tak balik Ipoh. Memanglah raya di Klantan lagi meriah dan rasa macam raya, sebab raya kat Ipoh kan ke macam beraya kat sini juga. Pergi tengok movie, bantai tidur seharian, atau pergi lepak kedai minum or mandi air terjun. Tapi rindu jugak la sepupu belah Kedah, kalau berkumpul ramai-ramai memang best, macam ade sekali ni mereka buat barbecue waktu raya. Dem jeles gila.

Atuk aku ni, orang Negeri Sembilan asalnya. Kahwin, dapat seorang anak, cerai. Kahwin pula dengan nenek aku yang super comel, asalnya dari Kedah, dan buat baby sampai 9 orang. Dulu aku mati-mati ingat atuk aku pun asal-usul Kedah, sebab loghat memang Kedah habis, loghat nogoghi memang haram jadah tadak. Nenek aku dah basuh cukup-cukup. Haha.

Atuk aku ni, bekas polis, garang nak mampus. Jenis garang yang dia jeling/tenung saja, semua macam dah nak terkucil. Selalu yang kami kena marah is bila main bergayut dekat pintu grill that swings out tu. Or bila dia suruh tutup TV tapi bebudak ni tak nak tutup juga, dia just datang cabut suis(yang tinggi position dia), and semua just diam tak terkata. Sebab kalau merengek kena marah lagi. Haha. Tapi dia juga baik dan rajin melayan cucu-cucu yang ramai ni. Kadang-kadang dia biar saja orang nak panjat bahu dia waktu dia duduk santai atas sofa. Or dia jadikan paha dia bantal untuk budak kecil nak tidur sambil dia membaca.

Atuk aku ni, dulu waktu zaman mak aku kecil, agak pandang harta dan pangkat punya jenis. Bila pakcik aku, Uncle #2 nak kahwin dengan pilihan hati dia tak benarkan, sebab yang perempuan tu bukan dari keluarga yang berada. Padahal dah sekufu la tu, atuk aku ni pun family orang susah. Tak lama kemudian Uncle #2 bercalon baru, atuk aku suruh kahwin sebab anak lord la juga minah tu. On the morning of his wedding day, pengantin perempuan dah tunggu, tetamu dah sampai, semua orang kalut. Uncle #2 tak dijumpai. Tetiba polis sampai. Bercakap dengan datuk aku, sejurus kemudian datuk aku tepuk dahi, dan jatuh terjelepuk.

Pakcik aku masuk lokap, kantoi dadah di sebuah kelab malam(lebih popular dengan panggilan disko zaman tu) the night before. Memang la tak jadi kahwin kan. Mesti la malu si pengantin perempuan tu, takkan bapanya si orang kaya nak bagi juga anaknya kahwin dengan si penagih kan. Tuhan bagi cash. Datuk aku dah jadi orang tak pandang harta sangat. Nak kahwin dengan pilihan hati, sila lah. Asalkan kau happy.

Atuk aku ni, zaman mak aku kecil, jenis yang sangat demand tinggi. Makanan kalau tak panas tak mahu makan. Pakaian kalau tak bergosok dia takkan pakai. Sampai seluar dalam pun kena gosok kalau tak, dia commando la gamaknya. Mak aku cerita, nenek aku layan macam atuk aku ni raja. Bertakhta kalau di rumah memang tak perlu buat apa-apa. Lampu padam, nenek aku yang kecil pendek tu yang tukar mentol sendiri. Nenek aku lah yang akan buat tempat sidai baju sendiri. Datuk aku hanya bekerja dan balik memang santai gila semua benda nenek aku uruskan. Superwoman kan.

Beza gila dengan bapak aku. Bapak aku sampai satu time tu, baju kami semua dia yang cuci, sidai dan lipat. Baju dia gosok sendiri, kadang-kadang bapak aku yang masak dinner(which is always spaghetti/linguine bolognese). Kami semua tak reti nak tukar mentol (aku reti tapi takut kena renjat).

Yang ini semuanya dipetik daripada memori mak aku dan Uncle #5, cerita-cerita lama. By the time zaman aku, atuk aku dah tone down. Masih strict dan garang. Especially on education. Setiap kali balik Ipoh, dia bukan tanya khabar sihat ke tidak, dia tanya result last peperiksaan. Kalau tak cemerlang siap ah, memang kena duduk situ dengar dia membebel, kekadang kena marah.

One time, it was apparent that I was annoyed with his nagging, he said, "Aku marah sebab aku sayang hang, kalau tak sayang aku tak marah, tak kisah keputusan hang lagu mana." Oh, macam tu ke. Lerr, mana orang nak tahu. Nasib baik ah juga, sekolah rendah memang cemerlang lah result aku sebab aku takut kena marah. Dia takkan bagi hadiah, dia cuma puji, bagaikan mengingatkan aku that it is my responsibility dapat good results, bukannya sesuatu that needed explicit rewards baru dilakukan.

Dalam 40 lebih sepupu aku, ditakdirkan aku seorang yang lahir tahun 85, maka aktiviti compare brains dengan cousin ini kurang dilaksanakan pada aku compared to others. Chist. Kalau tak memang selalu nama aku disumpah sepupu-sepapat aku.

Atuk aku ni, dia suka main game bangang dengan kami. One example is, dia akan himpunkan kami beramai-ramai and main trivia merepek.

"Siapa cucu aku, angkat tangan angkat kaki."

Semua pun akan jadi lebih kurang macam anjing, on our backs, feet and hands flailing in the air. Ada juga yang gagal mengangkat tangan atau kaki dengan complete.

"Hmpfth, hang cucu Tok hang, bukan cucu aku", dan buat muka konon-konon menyampah. Haha, macam sial je. Tapi kira time tu siapa yang dilabel cucu Tok memang tak cool ah.

Lain-lain game is game menguji memori.

"Kalau hangpa pandai, cucu laki-laki aku ada berapa, cucu perempuan ada berapa? Haa, jawab cepat-cepat, sape tak dapat jawab dia cucu Tok!"

Ha kira la dari Aunty #1 punya anak sampai sampai Aunty #9. Kalau seorang anak hanya 2 orang je ke tak apalah. Ini semua sekurang-kurangnya 4 orang anak.

"Ada berapa cucu sekolah menengah?"

"Ada berapa yang sekolah rendah?"

"Dari hospital sampai sini ada berapa tiang lampu?"

"Siapa tak dapat jawab dia cucu Kelantan/Terengganu/Johor/whichever the other gramps are."

Malam-malam, when all of us bergelimpangan tidur di ruang TV dan ruang tamu, sesekali atuk aku akan tidur di luar juga, because he lets one of my aunts/uncles have the master bedroom bila ramai sangat yang balik Raya sana. It has become a norm, for him to recite ayat Quran as he was going to sleep, half asleep. I remember how we slept bertemankan ayat-ayat Quran, and even though I didn't understand a thing, the sound of it, his voice, in the dead of the cool night, amongst orchestra-like snoring from the mass of bodies on the floor/sofas and occasional sounds of cars driving by, it was one of the few moments in life I remember of being in such extreme peace, a kind of high, feeling safe and content.

Atuk aku ni, dia sangat suka minum kopi. You know, that kampung punya kopi yang pekat lagi best tu. Aku suka betul kalau dia minta nenek aku buat kopi tu. Aku pun dapat tumpang sekaki.

I really miss all that.

Atuk aku ni, perokok tegar. Fakta ini aku ingat hanya samar-samar, kerana dia jarang sekali merokok dalam rumah when we, the grandkids are there. One day, as he was gardening, he fell into the drain outside the house. He hurt his leg. It was swollen like hell, it couldn't get better. I didn't quite understand it back then, something about his liver was already damaged, and his wound couldn't heal because of the damaged liver. The liver damage then became more serious as months go by. When I visited him in the hospital he had looked his best, with unshaved scruffs, his messy white beard and moustache, I think he looked good like that. He had lost some weight but otherwise he seemed okay, the least garang and that was the fondest memory of him, smiling at me, at us in such pride.

Till it finally came the time that the doctor said, it's best that you bring him home, there's nothing more we can do for him.

In his deathbed, he kept on calling for my grandma. Whenever my grandmother's not by his side, he would start crying out, "Chik...chik." My grandmother would come, hold him in her arm as he held her tight in embrace before he calms down again. It hurts me seeing him in pain, lying there not entirely lucid of the people around him. The house was constantly full of people visiting and reciting Yasin, we barely have anywhere to sit at times.

One day, 22nd September 1999, my mom picked me up after school.

"Tokwan dah meninggal tau. Baru tadi Around maghrib."

I just sat still. I didn't cry. I didn't say anything. I wasn't shocked. We knew he was leaving us. But I couldn't even muster "Innalillahi wa inna ilaihi raji'un". There was no pain, no feeling reacting to the statement, none absolutely.

Until I went to my aunt's place, to where he was. To see him lying there but knowing he's not there. Pale and finally at peace, I finally realized that this was actually happening. He ceased to exist. One of my reason for existence, had simply stopped existing.

I trembled in uneasiness but I wanted to kiss his forehead one last time anyway. I hated it, cos he was cold, and smelt very nice. I didn't want that to be the last feeling imprinted on me of him. He was supposed to be warm, to smell like his usual self, of some aftershave and faint smell of cigarettes. THIS wasn't him.

He had a nice spot under the tree. It was a beautiful, breezy, cloudy day. I don't remember much of that day but me leaning on my elder brother's shoulder, saying goodbye in silence. But I do remember us, the legacy he left behind, laughing and reminiescing afterwards, all the great, garang, hard-assed and funny things my grandfather was. It was funny really, all of us red-eyed, bengkak dan teary but laughing at my uncle and aunties retelling of anecdotes of the old man we call Tokwan.

Al-Fatihah. To Tokwan, and to arwah Khairil Azrul, who died too young, on 17th September 2002.