Story from My Mother VII

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.

Story from My Mother VI

Masjid Batu 6 Jalan Kuala Selangor - Tanjong Karang was built in 1920's by my late grandfather Daud Marhakim among others.The four tiang seri is made of wood.My grandfather was buried in the cemetery behind the mosque. Now they are building a new mosque across the road. The others are pictures of my mother at our land in Sg Yu. Langsuyar is a plant sometimes seen on other trees, in this case, on palm oil tree.

Story from My Mother VI

This morning after breakfast I told my mother that I have been to my father’s grave three times the past week. I also told her that from the first day with my youngest sister, I have been noticing a few large foot prints, about 9-10 inches long, about 4 or 5 of them, on my father’s grave. Looks like someone who wear shoes. Last Friday, the last time I was there, it was still noticeable. I do not think it belongs to local people; because local people would have smaller foot print, and the foot prints are about one inch deep.

“Siapa ya, kalau budak budak tu kan tapak kaki nya kecik kecik” my mother said. I nodded, agreeable.
“Tak tahulah kalau dia di kunjungi Nabi. Mak dulu masa kat Madinah (or is it in Mecca) nampak bekas tapak kaki Nabi, besar panjang ni. Di kurungkan cermin macam gelas terlangkup” my mother showed me the length with her two hands, about 9-10 inches.
I told my mother that I didn’t tell my youngest sister about the foot prints that I saw on the grave.
These past six years, my father’s routine has always been, reading Quran in the morning, after breakfast. Then about 10am, he would ask for rice to eat.
“Kalau khatam Quran tu tak tahu dah berapa kali, bila dah khatam dia ulang lagi.”
“Kadang tu mak minta dia ajarkan Ayat Qursi, itupun dah banyak kali baru mak boleh ingat” she continued.
“Apalah susah sangat nak belajar, kan itu senang saja” my father’s words as related my my mother.
“Aku ni dulu belajar sekolah agama baru darjah dua, dah dipinang, ya tak sempat nak banyak belajar”

My mother told me that they got married in 1953. My father’s close friend was Arwah Pakcik Pangat who used to live at the edge of the village bordering the sawah padi. My father used to ride a big bicycle (Chinese Hero Brand?), with no mudguard and no carrier at the back.
“Basikal gondol” my mother said.
He used to wear black pants and black shirt as well as black songkok. Like a crow, my mother said. He would laugh when reminded. Pak Pangat offered my mother a ride on his bicycle, to sit on the bike carrier at the back. “Tak mahu lah” my mother said.


The other day my mother showed me the exact spot where my father died. At the front of the bathroom, between the washing machine and the fridge. The story was that he had difficulty breathing in the bathroom, my mother and my older sister managed to pulled him the front of the bathroom. Outside the bathroom door. From there, my mother and my sister couldn’t pull him anywhere else.
“Sudahlah disini saja” my father told my mother.
Tahiron and 3 others have arrived. The four of them couldn’t move him either. Tahiron knows that my father was going to die; he noticed my father’s ears were droopy. He taught my father to say the word Allah, and my father followed, but so faint, cant hardly be heard.
“Your father is heavy you know, 4 adult men tried to move him, and we couldn’t” he said.
I disagreed, “He is only 40-50kg max”
“There is such thing as time and place you know. When your time has come, and at he right place, you will die. It has been written from azali” I continued. Tahiron look confused.
“Have you read or heard the story from the time of Solomon?”
“No. You mean Nabi Sulaiman?” he asked.
“Yes the same person” I said

So I told him that during the time of Solomon, one time they were having a majlis in one palace. One of Solomon’s friends, maybe one of his vizier notice a man kept staring at him. Wherever he went, the man kept following and staring at him. So he told Solomon, and Solomon also noticed the man. Solomon offered his friend to send him to a far away place, far from the palace. So Solomons summons one of his subjects from the djinn to take his friend to another place. To cut the story short, the man who stared at Solomons vizier was Malaikat Maut, he was going to take the vizier’s life. But the place he was supposed to take the vizier’s life was not at the palace, but at the faraway place where Solomon send the vizier. That’s why the Malaikat Maut was staring at the vizier; he was supposed to take the vizier’s life, at that time, but not at that palace.
“So when you feel that my father was heavy and couldn’t me moved, that’s not because of his weight, but because Malaikat Maut was there holding my father down. He is much stronger than all of you, you know” I explained.