my father's grave.
the last 2 pics were taken at Tiram Burok, a rice field ready for planting.
Story from My Mother VII
Today my mother asked me to take her to my father’s grave. Her first time. She said she wanted to ask permission from my father, because tomorrow morning we are going to Cameron Highlands to visit Kholid and Saripah, for two nights. My mother said that the first 40 nights when someone died, he/she would come back to his/her old dwelling every night. He/she is not used to the new permanent home in the grave, so he/she would come back every night. While at the grave, my mother kept reciting AlFatihah and Surah Ikhlas, and pray to Allah to make my father’s grave spacious and comfortable.
My mother doesn’t want to be away from home for too long. She also wants to live here in the house for the rest of her life, if she can. Before my father died, he asked my mother to follow my older brother. She did mention to me that she hoped that my older brother would send his second wife here to live with her. She said that instead of renting a house in Telok Panglima Garang, Banting, he would be better off letting his second wife live here.
Yesterday I also went to the grave. While I was walking out, I notice a woman on the motorbike kept staring at me. She was going north, staring at me, then turned around and kept staring at me. When I was at the car, she called for my name. Ah, it was Auntie Jamaliah. She is married to Uncle Mustakim, my father’s half brother. Auntie Jamaliah also mentions the same thing, that my older brother should leave his second wife here with my mother, and come home every week.
Yesterday, after dinner, my mother told me the story of the death of my cousin, Hj Sakuri Hj Rukimin, aka Kang Saring. Hj Sakuri was one year older than me, he was born in 1963. When he was young, he had problem with his heart, he had a hole in his heart (jantung berlubang). He came back to the village and work on his father’s rice field, after a few years living in Shah Alam and working for a chicken seller in Jeram, Selangor. At that time, his wife was working at a factory in Shah Alam. A month before he died, Hj Sakuri he bought three 10 kilo bags of rice for his parents. When asked by his mother, he answered, “Biar cukup untuk bulan puasa nanti mak”. Yet Ramadan was 3 months away.
Then he asked his mother accompany him to the market. He bought 3 kilos of red onions for his mother, with the same excuse, so that the supply would lasts. The night before he had fever, he told his wife that he wanted to stay overnight at his parents place, but his baby was crying, so he couldn’t go. So when the body arrived from Klang, it was taken straight to his parents place, Hj Rukimin. His wife reasoned that Hj Sakuri wanted to stay overnight at his parents place but couldn’t.
Then he had fever, dengue according to my brother. He was taken to Klang Hospital, where he died. That day my parents were planning to visit Kholid at Cameron Highland with my older brother. The car was ready to go, bananas, coconut and other foodstuff were on the boot. Uncle Supingat was riding his motorbike very fast and told my parent the sad news. My mother said that Hj Sakuri used to visit my parent at least once a month.
Then my mother told me that Ustadz Mashuri died in Sabah, where he taught some time ago. His second son also died as well, after the first son died as a teenager. The story was that a Sabah girl liked the son, but Ustadz Mashuri advised his son against the girl.
“Tak tahu lah kalau anak dan ayah tu mati kena santau. Orang Sabah dan Sarawak tu kan angker hampir semuanya”
“ Kalau jadi guru, masih bujang belum kahwin, kemudian disukai orang sana, tapi tak mahu kahwin orang sana, jadi susah. Sebab tu lah budak budak ni kalau ditugaskan ke sana tak mahu, mereka lebih rela menganggur tak jadi guru”
“Tapi kalau suka sama suka, boleh jadi senang dan kaya raya, sebab orang sana u semuanya tahu, buat bakul tahu, anyaman tahu, macam macam tahu”
“Rupanya kapalterbang tu kalau bawa orang mati, dia tak bawa penumpang lain ye, Cuma mayat itu dan ahli keluarganya saja”
It must be expensive, hiring a small plane to bring back the body, I concurred.
Now the late Ustadz Mashuri’s wife and daughters live at their old house, at Kampung Baroh.
Translation: angker (Javanese – menakutkan, scary) – in this term, the person cannot be crossed, or disagreed with, he/she will use black magic against his/her opponents.