Last Wednesday on the 15th August 2006, Allahyarham Abdul Rahman Bin Dahlan (pictured above with a very young me) passed away at the age of 57. Despite being my uncle, he was so close a relative to us that my brother and I address him as Ayah (literally "father") for as long as we both can remember. As far as I know, no other nephews address my late uncle as such, and being so too, at 20 years of age this year I've lost someone who is the closest to me and my family next to my late grandfather (father's side) back in 2001.The Uncompassionate Army
That is why i knew i had to go back when i received my mother's call telling me the grief news when i was in ns camp that morning . Shockingly it was not as easy as it may seem for something that could easily be allowed on "emergency grounds". I knew NS does allow us what they term as "compassionate leave" should a death occur in the family whilst the soldier is in camp. Unfortunately and irritatingly as well, precedence was only to be given to a death of any direct 'next-of-kin', meaning parents or siblings. My Staff Sergeant told me on the phone when i called him that i could only leave camp at 5pm. I was saddened and put down the phone. But almost immediately it dawned on me, "like what the hell is that?!" What is the point if i return at 5? The whole funeral process would have ended by then. I called him again and demanded that i be released at once, to put it bluntly, in essence i told him, "Someone close to me died for God's sake!"
Even though i haven't had clearance I took my things and left the lecture theatre (i was having a lecture on chemical defence at the point of my mom's call) and marched to see my sergeant, determined that i be allowed to leave camp. They told me it was rather difficult for them to let me because that day i was having Chemical Defence lessons and it was crucial for me to go through it before entering this darn gas chamber the next day (wearing all those chemical suit thingy and go inside this chamber filled with tear-gas, and yes removing the mask halfway). They fear that i might have to re-course my entire 9-week Basic Medic Course should i missed out. I knew i cannot not go and pay my last respects to whom like i said, is the closest person to me to have passed on so far. To cut the story short, they relented and allowed me to go, but i'd have to return at 2.30pm. Though i knew i won't be able to stay for the whole process, it was the best option i got. I hoped on to a taxi and left.
Brothers Till the End
Details as to my late uncle's last moments were narrated by my father. For sensitivies i would not relate it here, but my father saw his dearest brother moments before he passed on, which is when after he left. My uncle lived only a couple of blocks away from my place, and on his way to work that morning my father happened to pass his house at the point he had difficulty breathing.
In Loving Memory
My regret is that i am no longer as close to him as when we were much younger. His only daughter, whom i called Kak Ilah (in picture above, i'm on the extreme right) was also close to us since we were very young. They used to lived just two floors below in our first house in Jurong West, and were also on the ground floor when we moved to our previous house in Chua Chu Kang. On my father's side, where there had been centuries of brawl, Ayah and Kak Ilah (she's 25 now) is the closest relative to my family. The rest, let's just say we meet only once a year during Hari Raya, that is if we meet at all. Being the only child, my mom said to me that Kak Ilah used to enjoyed the company of her darling little brothers that is me and my bro. It is to her that my condolences and deepest feelings go to. Ayah in his lifetime loved us as his own, since he has no other children. Perhaps that's why in the beginning he wants us to call him "ayah".
I was so saddened when i had to leave halfway to return to camp. It was this reason above all that made me feel so down the entire day and next. One would have no idea how to comprehend such loss in such suddenness. My heart goes to Kak Ilah for i could not start imagine what it is like for her. My bunkmates kept asking me "kau ok tak?" ("you ok?) cos i was more quieter than usual, but they were in all sensitivity angered by the fact that i wasn't allowed the whole day off. I would have prefered of course to stayed through and be there at his burial, at least it gives a proper sense of closure to me. I only barely saw his body lying in state, which was to be the last time. My mom told me my father broke down into tears back at home, and was oddly quiet the next day, slept through long hours too. Who could have blamed him, Ayah was the only one who understands him, thus he could relate to, compared to the rest of my darling uncles and aunts. Ayah had been my father's closest brother compared to the rest of his siblings. I'm sure his sense of lost was more than mine could comprehend.
Ayah is the uncle who would without fail give us lil money, me and my siblings, everytime he visits us when we're younger. I emphasise, without fail. Nobody else was that nice. It is this small gestures that I would definite miss and remember him by. No one else from my father's side visits us periodically, except for him and Kak Ilah. I just cant find the way to express all this in words, but my heart goes to her. Even though we're no longer as close as before, I told me mom today that given what she has to go through, that day i find her to be the strongest young woman I've ever known so far.May God the Almighty bless Ayah's soul and forgive him for all his wrongdoings.
Al-Fatihah.
No comments:
Post a Comment