The sun was an insistent staccato against our backs as we sat atop the short stools we brought along for the occassion. Daddy's voice drone on as he recited the versus specially meant for the deceased. Though the heat scoured my back & made me itch like the very devil, my tudung-covered head surprisingly felt cool. According to Mom, that was the hidden advantage of wearing the tudung. Not that I was ready to don it permanently just yet.
The whole family had gone out of the house at 7am & Daddy drove us to Lim Chu Kang cemetary to pay our respects to my two grandfathers & one of Mom's very good childhood friends. All 3 died back in '97. Dad stopped outside the main front of the cemetary so Mom could purchase some bouquets of flowers to 'decorate' the three respective graves. This was my second visit here.
I didn't think last year's visit was worth much of consequence but somehow, this year felt a little different. An inexplainable feeling sunk through me & suddenly, the air was so thick it began harder to breathe. I turned to my sisters, the asking of whether they felt it at the tip of my tongue. They seemed fine, so it must be me. The scene of death does that to you, I guess.
As our car drove through the narrow lanes, I started taking pot shots of the graveyard scenary. Daddy stopped at Path 16 & we walked through the pathway nearly till the end of the plot until he finally realized that we were at the wrong plot. Thanks, Daddy. You ruined the moment. We found out belatedly through Mummy Lin (Auntie Alonso) that it was Path 15, not 16.
It is required when a Muslim goes into a cemetry plot that he/she say a slight greeting, "Peace be upon you, O' residents of the graves." During Ramadhan, all souls are spared the harsh punishment for their sins which they have done during their lives. It is when they take a break, so to speak. Ghosts, ghouls & all 'scary' thingies are tied up & are thrown far away from where they can't reach humankind to pull into corruption.
So, as I stepped into the plot -the correct one, this time-, I was immediately hit with the feeling of sorrow & melancholy & again, I couldn't breathe properly. I was flanked on both sides by graves from souls who once walked the Earth. It occured to me that of course, one day would see me here as well. I couldn't help but wonder, would that day come too soon for me?? Mom always told me you can never be too old to die. And I believe her. I was the last to catch up with my family, stopping every now & then to take a few shots.
It was an opportunity I couldn't miss. I wanted to capture the essence of a graveyard at its very best. But I couldn't help some tears from rolling down my cheeks. I couldn't turn away from the scene but hid my tears from Mummy, lest she thought something happened to me.
I stopped at the designated spot where my Grandaddy lay buried beside my family. Mummy Lin came by yesterday, so the grave wasn't shabby-looking. A healthy crop of brush even grew atop my grandfather's grave. Daddy whipped out his holy book as we distributed low stools among ourselves. Nini sat on the concrete surrounding Granddad, though. As Daddy read on, my mind wondered a little to what I remembered of Grandaddy.
He was Mom's father, estranged from Nanny Alonso even though he still stayed at Lorong Sarina till the day he passed on. A hard smoker, the old man died of lung cancer, something that I was sure was going to happene to some of my uncles unless they quit puffing their lungs & filling tem with tar & nicotine.
The strongest memory I had of Granddad was the few days before he passed on. He had called me into his room, which now serves as the maid's quarters, & pressed into my hand a fresh ten-dollar bill. Looking back now, I should have felt proud of him instead of going home confused. He had sacrificed his money meant for his beloved cigarettes to his first grandchild. But back then, I was still a kid, all of 11 years.
The day he died, Daddy, Uncle Chico, myself, Nora, Farah & Hafez were actually on our way to the arcade!! Would you believe it. It was like a splash of cold water when we got Mom's frantic call telling us that Granddad had passed on. Now thinking about it, I should've been more affected by his passing.
I snapped a few pictures of Granddad's newly decorated grave, an apology to him whispering in my heart. Only now did the sense of loss & regret began to sunk in & I tried not to let it show that I was shaken. Beside Granddad's grave was a small grave-sized patch of grass. Long & overcovered with weeds, this was no ordinary patch of grass.
It belonged to someone. Someone dead. Someone's grave which had sunk back into the Earth so bad, it could no longer be salvaged. It was clear that nobody came to clear this plot because of the overgrowth that virtually made the grave ungrave-like. The poor sucker didn't deserve this. The dead deserves more respect than this. It was sad that nothing could be done to help salvage what's left of it.
After Dad was done, we cleared up our stuff & moved to another grandfather; this time, Daddy's father. What I remembered of this old man, I didn't like. To me, he was a chikopek. But since I don't believe in speaking ill of the dead, I shan't continue.
As we passed some other graves, I spotted one that had not one, but three names on its headstone. I called to Mummy & asked her why the heck were three people buried together. Her reply was that this grave was from the old cemetary in which the government had dug up so the bodies there were trasnferred here. And since they were of the same family name, maybe the government decided to put them together.
But still. It just didn't seem right. To put three people in the same plot. It just isn't.
My other grandfather's plot was located at the far end of Path 15 so, we had to walk the whole stretch of lane & then turn a slight left before coming to his grave. As we trudged on, I was the last one as usual. I couldn't help but observe that the graves were getting smaller & smaller. And it occured to me that these were the graves of young children & babies.
I stopped short as the realization hit me like a slap & stood there for 5 minutes like an idiot. I looked at each one of the small graves, some smaller than others, which meant when these kids died, they were mere babies. Maybe they didn't even live enough to see their first birthday. This time, the tears came down aplenty. The emotions I felt were so strong, it was overwhelming. They were just kids.
Of course, amid my personal downpour, I managed to snap a few kiddy graves that really tugged my heartstrings albeit with shaky hands. One particular grave caught my eye. It was small enough to tell that this was a baby who died. But what caught at me was that the child's grave was surrounded by a fence-like structure, like a mini cradle.
I burst into tears on the spot.
Saying a prayer for the children, I managed to catch up with my family before they began saying their prayers for my grandfather. The lingering thought of the children buried still burned in my mind.
I can't say it was unfair that their lives were taken away from them at such an early time because God has His reasons for doing so. Maybe it was to spare them from the harshness of life & the world. Or maybe it was to spare them from having to feel pain & suffering. But whatever it was, it's a fact that all children who passes away before the age of puberty would go to heaven. And my heart lightened a notch after banking on that knowledge.
Our last stop was at Mom's good friend's grave. She died at a young age of 37 from leukimia. She never had kids with her husband & soon, he remarried shortly after her death. Mom knew her since her secondary school days & till now, their clique was still in contacts with one another. I knew Mom missed her loads. I did, too. She was always nice, warm & caring towards me. All of Mom's best friends treated me like one of their own even though one of them has a son whom was my age & the rest got late babies.
After we paid our respects, we headed off towards Woodlands Checkpoint, making our way to Johor. Personally, I hadn't felt like leaving the place. I wanted to sit near the childrens' graves. Just sit. But well, my family wanted to re-stock our 'pantry' & who was I to argue??
We picked our favorite hypermarket to do our shopping, Carrefour. Don't ask me why. It has always been Carrefour for as long as we can remember. Maybe because it's much cheaper than say, Giant & way better quality than Xtra. Plus, they sold halal sushi; something I'd never get at any other hypermarket as well as here in Singapore.
As usual, we took 2 trolleys; one for foodstuff & the other for stuff other than foodstuff. You know, like A4 printing paper, deodorants, blah, blah, blah. Me & Fatin found packages of Manchester United raspberry cookies in the snacks section with Ruud, Rio, Ronaldo & Ryan Giggs on the front wrapper.
Well, of course we wanted them!! And since splitting the package wrap was out of the question, we bought two packs. Plus, about 6 packages of Carrefour's croissants.
And ended up spending about RM600 on everything. Cheeeeeh. Like I told Mom, Carrefour becomes slightly richer everytime we come by for a visit.
And where does that money go to?? Sponsoring the freakin' French soccer team, lahh!! That's why they've got Carrefour's crest emblazoned very prominently across their training kits. Huh!!
No, I am NOT jealous. *sticks out tongue*
Laterz...
Lenny JC
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