Monday, November 9, 2009

I see a funeral today

As I walk back from my skill lab session, I and friends passed through crowd of people.
It’s 9.30 am, and the street is unusually busy.
My friend even said, ”Meriah kan, jalan ni hari ni?”
That was before we saw what’s waiting for us at the end of the street.

I see a funeral.
A death actually since the dead isn’t buried yet.
They wore black. Black kerudung as local said, black celana, black kaos.
They hold flags. Yellow flag, made of paper. Like the paper that you use to make kites. I’m still wondering what the flag symbolizes as.

You can actually feel the loneliness that one will face when you watch the dead being buried deep down in the ground.. The silence of the grave, the hurl of the wind..

At the end of the street, the musholla is full with people, with a van from the hospital. I guess they’re still managing the dead, like memandikan, mengkafankan and menyembahyangkan jenazah.


Few months back, I’m in their shoes.
Being one of the person yang memandikan my grandmother, my mouth shut quiet at that moment. My sister cried a lot at that time. Thank God, she doesn’t continue to help. huhu.. I don’t know why, but I’m not afraid of being in charge. Some superstitious belief said that you might caught the ‘badi’ of the dead, whatever bla bla bla..
but since it’s our relative, why should we care?
Plus, we’re gonna be one of them also, right? Imagine your so-called ‘badi’ keep haunting other people. Funny eh? Haha.


Above all, I remember this one time.

One of my junior from my secondary school passed away because he had been hit by a lorry.
The news came to me via sms. Typical sms.

“saudara kita...(name)....telah meninggal dunia kerana...... Al-Fatihah..”

Al- Fatihah.

Al- fatihah????
How many of us yang betul2 bacakan al-fatihah untuk orang yang dah mninggal dunia ni bila dapat sms macam ni?
Honestly, i don’t.

I told my friends about the news. They said “innalillah..”. Then i just rest the case for that moment.

It’s zohor prayer.
After salam2, one of my friends approached me.

She said, “Bashu, jom kite baca yasin.”
The dumb me said, “Baca yasin? Knapa?”
She silenced for a moment. “Kan junior bashu meninggal tadi?”
Me silenced for a longer time.
Realization and embarrassment nearly knocked me dead. “jom.”


My junior is a guy. He’s my junior and I even never talked to him.

Fine, basirah. That’s what the Bad You said.
What’s the Kind You said?

Your junior is a muslim. Your so-called ‘saudara seiman’ eh? Saudara amendenye kalau hak dia Basirah tak tunaikan. Dia ada hak untuk dibacakan Yasin, untuk didoakan. Baik takyah jadi saudara kalau mende2 kecik macam ni pun awak tak sanggup nak buat untuk saudara awak.

Sumpah, I feel like I’m the most selfish person at that time when I even dared to ask, “knapa nak baca yasin?” to my friend. Tu yang terdiam lama sikit lepas tu. Huuu~
To you-know-who-u-are, thank you so0 much for this realization.
It’s implicit, but it is so clear. This incident happened nearly a year and a half ago, but I still can remember it vividly because it changed my perspective a lot.

Dah tunaikan hak saudara2 seiman dengan kita?

Think our family. Think our roommate, our housemate, our colleagues.

Think Palestine and Afghanistan.

Sudan and Nigeria.

Think of the world. Our relatives are everywhere.

Fulfil their rights, in the name of our God.

I see a funeral today.

And You remind me of this.

Emily Dickinson: There’s been a death in the opposite house..


ahmad zaid said...

mengingati mati mmg menginsafkan..

itana said...

sangat benar. it keeps us wondering the purpose of why we r living in this world anyway.

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