Gramp, I love you!

This festive season suddenly reminds me of my poor Gramp back home. Since the passing of my beloved Naan 10 years ago he hasn't remarried and has been living with my uncle. We went up north to visit him during our April holiday back home. I was rather taken aback to see how old he looks. It made me sad seeing his droopy eyes, a sign of loneliness I guess. Through out my adolesence, Gramp is the only grandad I've ever known. You see, my paternal grandad passed away when I was only 2, leaving me with my mom's dad to pass on his wisdom. I was never his favourite grandchild but somehow I grew close to him. I guess my being my late Naan's favourite helped me become close to him. Wherever Naan went, I'd sure tag along and where Naan was, Gramp was always by her side. When Naan died, Gramp was devastated especially learning that she took her last breath in my aunt's arm and not his. The first few years after Naan's passing, Gramp was always in tears everytime he visited her grave.

It's saddening to watch Gramp lives his golden ages without his soulmate. It's more dreadful to learn that he's yearning for the day he'd join his beloved wife. I remember my Mak Long telling me how Gramp requested for Mak Long's husband whom I called Ayah to manage Gramp's funeral. Who'd ever thought that my Ayah would be knocked down by a car, fell into coma for a couple of months and left us without any last word. A couple of years before Ayah's fatal accident, one of Gramp's sons, my Pak Jang passed away after a severe asthma attack. It must have been hard for any father to see his very own son being buried. These sudden deaths in the family must have taken its toll on Gramp.

Lately, I've been thinking of writing to Gramp. I want him to know what he means to me and how grateful I am to be blessed with a grandad like him. I want to thank him for helping me went through my adolescene and telling me his wise words about life. I really want him to learn this before he finally joins my late Naan. Not that I'm wishing for him to die, but at least he'd know that his existence has always meant something to us, his predecessors.

We shared some fond memories, me and Gramp. I could vividly recall those years when I was little, how he had to take me with him and Naan when they went to their farm or even grocery shop. I remember riding his green Vespa and how I'd usually be standing in front of him and holding onto the handle. It was great fun riding with him and Naan. If I could remember correctly there was one time when Gramp took Naan and me to Jitra (about half hour ride from their home). It was raining quite heavily on our way home, Gramp's hands were shaking as we were all drenched from the rain. Soon after, Gramp complaint to Naan that his arms and hands had cramps. Naan then quickly put her hands onto his and gently rub her hands to warm him up hence soothed the pain. Seeing Naan did this, I followed through. As soon as we got home, Naan put Gramp to sleep after having him bathed and taken his medication. That was how affectionate their love was.

I may never fully understand Gramp's loneliness but I bet it must have been hard for one to lose the other half and live one's life alone. True enough that his children and grandchildren could look after him and attend to his needs but I don't think their love would be as affectionate as his other half.

Mood raye

As mentioned in my previous post, tahun ni merupakan tahun ke3 berturut-turut kami berpuasa and beraya dekat negara orang. Honestly, memang tak seronok langsung la sambut raya kat sini maklumla udah le jauh dari mak abah dan keluarga, suasana raya pon tak ade. Even though I'm not as excited as I used to be when I was a kid, rasa ralat la jugak sebab anak-anak tak dapat rasa kemeriahan beraya kat kampung with our big extended family. Sebelum kami berhijrah ke sini, memang la bebudak ni pernah dibawak beraya kat kampung tapi mase tu dorg kecik-kecik lagi. Bukannya faham pon raya tu ape. But as they grow bigger, I'd really much want them to understand the special meaning of Ramadhan and Eid celebration to many of us back home. Especially now that Azhan has started fasting more consistently, I want him to learn the joy that other children back home feel during Iftar and soon to be Eid.

There's a bright sight to this mischief though; I don't have to worry about my children risking their fingers or hand whilst lighting up 'mercun' or 'meriam buluh buatan sendiri'. I don't normally follow the accident caused by 'mercun' statistics for the past two years but I assume with 'mercun' banned from being sold at pasar malam the statistics would have dropped now. Cumenye, when I come to think of it, bebudak ni tak dapat merasa keseronokan helping my uncles lighting up the pelita and bermain bunga api. Kalaulah boleh balik ke zaman kanak-kanak, nak aje aku pergi ke malam sebelum raya kat rumah lama arwah Tok dan Wan. Lepas pasang pelita, pakcik akan bagi kami bunga api. Mercun pulak aku dan sepupu-sepapat cume boleh bakar under pakcik's supervision. Cakap pasal kampong, teringat arwah Tok. Duit raya aku selalu dapat lebih dari cucu lain; cucu kesayangan la katakan. Rasa rindu nak peluk dan cium Tok macam dulu, nak makan ketupat palas pulut hitam Tok, gulai daging special dia, tapi Tuhan lebih sayangkan Tok (al-fatihah untuk Tok yang sudah 10 tahun meninggalkan Wan, anak-anak dan cucu-cucunya).

Another thing that I like about celebrating Eid abroad is not having to buy new 'baju raya' for either my kids, my hubby or myself. I could vividly recall back then when I used to make such a big fuss over not having new 'baju raya'. Sebetulnya baju raya tu bukannya penting sangat pon, boleh dibilang dengan jari berapa kali jer aku pakai kebaya sulam tu. In fact to this very day, baju tu masih nampak baru. Here's something that I as a woman don't quite understand, why is it so important for some to have more than 1 baju raye? My aunt is a dress-maker and she used to tell me that Ramadhan is her busiest time of the year due to the huge volume of baju kurungs she has to make. I remember suggesting her to turn away some of her customers tapi kata dia orang yang menempahnya tak ramai tapi setiap seorang tu tempah lebih dari sepasang. Bila difikir-fikirkan balik logik la dorang tempah banyak sebab kebanyakan depa prefer (ada yang terpaksa) pakai baju kurung ke tempat kerja.

Unlike last year, semangat raya kali ni kurang sikit due to the current economic weather. Bilangan kenalan kat sini pon dah berkurangan sejak ramai terpaksa balik for good. Truth to tell, I'm more worried about my career prospect than anything. Raya this year to me is just another bank holiday marked on the calendar.

Work really really sucks!

Don’t you just hate it when the works you did go unrecognised and unappreciated by your super-superiors? The works of little people like me with not so important job title more often than not weren’t credited for its worthy. I hate being among the little people. All the hard-work I’d put in go unnoticed let alone properly rewarded. Sometimes I feel as though I’m invincible and my existence is worthless to the organisation. I’ve been haunted by this emotion since early this year when I was forced to take on the responsibilities that my previous superior left after being made redundant. Despite the bigger liability, neither have I been fairly compensated nor recognised for contributing towards seamless company operation.

The current working ambience is made worse when a colleague in our department has been ill since April this year yet no replacement has been arranged during her long absence. I’m taken aback to learn that the management is taking her absence lightly simply because she's one of us, the little people. With no replacement, my other colleague and I have to take on her work to keep the department running as per usual. What did we get in return for this? Pay rise; dream on! Not even a single note of thank you came from our super-superior let alone giving us a raise.

Happy 9th Anniversary, Love

3rd September '09 marks our 9th year of togetherness. Fadz and I have been through thick and thin as life partners. I should be thanking him for being kind and patience with me despite my horrible tantrums and nasty, foul mouth. But most of all, I should be thankful to wed a wonderful man who accepts me the way I am inside and out.

p/s: My darling Fadz, please forgive me if I'd mis-treatred you whilst being your wedded partner.