Today is the 5th day of my brother’s passing. The grief goes on. At each passing day, the loss seems unbearable. The stomach twitched like a center of agony and the tears streaming down my cheeks every morning at the Fajr prayers. Oh God! please be kind to him. He’s the kindest among the kind people.
I remember him as a strangely quiet kid but at the same time jovial. He burst into laughter and the whole room lightened up. As his big brother, I always worried how his future would be like. Maybe hopeless without a good sense of direction. Regretfully, I left it to someone else to help him with it. Back then life was difficult for both of us. I was away overseas for my study and that was the period when things got difficult at home.
I remember one incident when I was back at home visiting Mak and Ayah. He came home from somewhere and he looked terrible. It was the final year of his schooling and the “wild thing was at its peak”. So he came home, passed by me and Ayah as we were talking, without saying anything.
me : Osmae! mari ssini!.
Osman : Hah Abedin ado…..
I looked at him and his terrible hairdo and flipped out five ringgit and handed over to him.
me: mu amik ni gi buang jambul tuh …
He looked at me. The rage started to boil at his face…Ayah laughed and laughed at both of us because he had been trying to do that but just couldn’t.
Osman : nak gunting tak cukup ni…..
Apparently, the fee had gone up. So I gave him another ten.
Later, when I saw him, the hair was neat and proper but the jambul was still there……I guess you can’t beat the trend.
