Viva La Vida or Death and All His Friends (2).

Allahyarham Datuk Jamaluddin Khalid.

Al-Fatihah kepada Arwah Uncle Jamal.

It's really funny if you think about the life and the death. Many of us know that we are bound to leave this world just any seconds. We feel bad about it, know that we should live and love. But too bad, the forces are stronger, most of us tend to forget about it as time passes on. We live loud.

On the first day of raya, at the nick of Maghrib, I visited my grandparents (Papa's side) in Kluang Johor after a festive meal at my Mama's sister's place. Both my parents never had a hard time deciding where to balik kampung, because we are all in Kluang, Johor.

There, first day of raya, at the nick of Maghrib, I drove in my Mak Tok's house. And the first person who greeted me at the gate was my late Uncle Jamal with his first granddaughter n his arms. I smiled inside, as I felt pleasant to see my uncles and aunts having their grandkids around. How time flies, how grown up we've became.

To my guilt, I didn't salam him on the first day of raya. I was afraid, because he was always so serious. What more he was playing with his granddaughter. Ah, tidak mengapa lah, I thought.
So I went ahead with adik next to me, visited everybody. Talked to the deceased wife and kids.

Abang Syah is all grown up, a little fleshy than I last remembered him. Met his wife, and his toddler. Kak Shy, well, I often see her on TV. And Sheera, teman sepermainan aku, the youngest of the three. Mak Jang, being the aunt I love to talk to whenever my dad's relatives are involved. We all talked and visioned about the future.

But what we all failed to vision about the future is death and all his friends.

I did not tear in front of my relatives (Mama's side) for I like to appear strong. Probably partially because I would like to think that it is not happening. Or probably I don't really feel it because he is not my habit, not part of my daily routine.

But as I write this, or every time I talked about the deceased and his family; I tear. The last of him I saw was him carrying his granddaughter, and behind the wheel of the black Avanza with his extended nucleus family. The last time I saw him, I did not salam him. I did not even utter a word, because of what? Fear for his silence.

I silently tear too when I saw Abang Syah on the Night News on TV. He was tearing next to Arwah's grave, holding the freshly dug ground. Tearing in disbelieve.

You truly do not know when it will come despite the inadequacy we offer.

Its scary is it not? We can't tell when death would come knocking along with his friends. We live too loud the sound of death is muffled. The people who have passed on, and the things that we have not done to them. And before you know it, . . .