Thursday, January 7, 2010

Miera's Song

While browsing my facebook homepage, I stumbled upon my niece's notes and proceed to read on. It took a second or so for me to immerse into her thoughts. It was a couple of notes she penned about her late mother, my beloved sister. What tugged my heart-string was her innocent confession of not really knowing the mother she lost when she was only nine and at the same time sympathised her youngest sister who, till these days is still clueless about their mother. Then, like an open dam, I cried like the day my sister died...

Miera wrote in such casual yet endearing manner about her mother with accompanying wedding photographs of my late sister as guide. Miera kept on heaping praises about her mother's beauty that she said, unfortunately, she did not inherit... but made up for her brains that she (Miera) has. "...sayangnya aku tak mewarisi  kecantikan arwah ami (mummy)... but at least, I have her brains.... arwah ami seorang yang terpelajar dan sangat pandai... and I'm proud that ami had studied in STF..." At one part I burst out a giggle when she wrote, " betapa cantiknya ami... patutlah arwah addy (daddy) sangat memuja ami!"

When it got to a part about the famous black and white portrait of my sister, which apparently everyone of them (Miera has two brothers and a sister) had resized, and slipped it into thier wallets, the memory of her just flashed before my eyes. It was one portrait that once upon a time became an obsession and prized possession of my eldest nephew, Hezri, that he hanged  it so conspicuously in his living room in Johor. I had the same feeling as told by Miera about this particular portrait....

...The first time I entered Hezri's house and on seeing the enlarged picture of kak Nyah, I was overcome with emotions. I went a bit hysterical. My crying would not stop and I was inconsolable. It was the feeling of that she was still around.... seeing her at the doorstep, with open arms... welcoming you... and suddenly, upon reaching her, she was nowhere to be found... And they say, crying is infectious, my poor mother too drowned in her own sadness. To us, losing a sister was devastating but to a mother it was more than that. Anyway, the touching part came when Miera said her mother's eyes in that portrait bore some sort of a mystery that she wished she could decipher them. Yes, I clearly remember that.

There is a question hang in the air posed by Miera's youngest sister, Umai. " Can I ever be like her? I wish I could know her... why was she taken away from me so soon?" Ahh...this is hard... But I left a comment for her anyway, that the least she could do is by having some of  kak Nyah's good qualities. Arwah was way too nice... a compassionate person.  Her humility always won people over, even though she knew she was a 'somebody's' wife.... that did not change her. She was beautiful inside and out...
If only you knew her...
*Umai was only three when her mother passed away. Yes, I was there.. in fact all of us were there on the day her mother died. She was oblivious of the solemn situation. She was seen playing and sometimes burst out laughing loudly until someone had to quieten her. But when the time came for kak Nyah's body to be wrapped up, she suddenly became pensive.. and clinging to her sister, Miera, who herself was still small, she tore all of our hearts when she said, " Ami kena pakai stokin ke? Kesian ami... nanti dia sejuk kan?" Ahhh.....

I can go on and on and on.... but, Umai, since you have been brought up by a different hand, I will not interfere into your less known qualities that has become ingrained through years you've passed through. I know, you've been asked to forget your mother...

Then again,  it pleased me when Miera, in her notes, exclaimed to her surprise that the wedding dress she had designed and hope one day she will wear on her big day was exactly the same one her mother wore! See, the apple won't fall far from the tree!  And to that, she (and me, included) couldn't have thanked her other aunt, Wan Chu, more,  for lending her kak Nyah's old wedding photos. ( I didn't know Miera was in Ipoh last weekend and was there digging for her mother's stuff!)

I think I have to stop now... my poor heart could not take this anymore. Redha saja. But before that, I just had  to tell my gentle readers that the four of them were tested with another tragedy when their father, some years later after their mother's demise, was brutally slain in his own house by intruders. Sadly, Umai was there to witness the murder. Her late father, was then the  A/Ocpd of Kulai, and the news of his death became headlines because it shook the nation of the daring killing of a police personnel. Nothing to be proud of, but the children, as anyone could imagine were traumatised.  

To my nieces Miera and Maira., and nephews Hezri and Ezwan, ...Ateh always pray for your well-beings. I love you all all the same... even though everyone in the family says Ezwan is special to me in a way...

Al-Fatihah buat arwah kak Nyah....


Uncle Lee said...

Hello Lily, what a heart warming posting. Yes, it is sad for children to lose a mother....but fortunately you are there for them.
The love of and for a mother by a child is beyond words but more telling thru tears.
You take care and keep well, best regards, Lee.

Oldstock said...


I remember the headlines about the murder in Kulai. My brother-in-law who was PDRM Bukit Aman at the time, attended the funeral.

I feel sad for your nephews and nieces. I hope they are doing okay and will grow up to be strong and successful, insyaallah.

lili said...

Hello U. Lee!

Thanks for the warm regards... Although it has been years, the memories of the loss ones still linger. There are many things that reminded us (my family) of them... and the children they left are one.

Take care too, U. Lee!

lili said...


I remember too seeing a sea of police officers of all ranks at my brother-in-law's funeral.

I take your hopes for the children as a doa. Amin. They are all big already and doing quite well.


somuffins said...

Hi Lili..
I know the feeling of losing a sibling, memang tak best.

lili said...


Ya, betul tu... :)

Uncle Lee said...

Hello Lili, just popped by say hello.
You know, I cannot but be impressed with your very stylish eloquence.
From the way you bring out your cheritas, I know you read a lot.

And your blog postings is like English literature....your command of English deserves a shoe kliking salute, ha ha. Outstanding!

Do you by any chance read Hemingways? Agatha Christies, and I bet tiga donuts and a glass of iced coffee, you must have read your SYT days those Daniel Steel girly booklets? Ha ha.

Your English here is perfect, no spelling or grammar out of place as well love you paragraph your cheritas. Not many do that.
Some bloggers simply hantam away, lintang pukang, bacha pun mata jadi juling, ha ha ha.

Lili, saya tabek you. I repeat, OUTSTANDING!
You stay easy and have a nice weekend, Lee.
Ps, a real pleasure to know you, *wink*.

lili said...

Dear Lee.

You must be kidding! I cringe every time I read over my text! I thought people like Mat Bangkai has the best blog around. I wish I could be as eloquent as he is. I guess, you have not found some of the best written blogs lah! I do a lot of blog hopping, you know...

I'm shaking my head this time reading your comment! And how I laugh red-faced and all! Pssstt..but I do the laughing stylishly too... with my hand over my mouth, tossing my head back and forth! I say, really... I should have sent my resume to you even if I was six! Muahaha!

Aduh, U. Lee... if you must know, I write what comes to my mind. Sometimes I wish I could just say out loud what's in my mind.... but then again, I have to be discreet.
I still feel inadequate in my writings, though. However, there is no hard and fast rules for writing a blog., isn't it? Thus, I pun hantam jugak!

Anyway, thanks for your sincere comment.

I love reading. I read mostly fictions but stay off from the sickly romantic stuff like Mills & Boons and the likes. But I love Cecelia Ahern's work. And I don't mind reading over Khaled Hosseini's brilliant creations, (my excuse for crying, sometimes!! haha!)

Lately I've been buying books that I had read during my teenage days... Jane Austen, Charlotte Bronte and Charles Dickens to name a few. And to my surprise, I even found myself reading DH Lawrence's "Sons & Lovers"! I do my reading on-line too - so much so I'm spoilt for choice. Still reading from a paperback or hardcover can never matched.

Thanks Lee for your kind thoughts, and nice knowing you too.
Take care and keep warm.

pakmat said...

..yes, I rememnber the murder..your bil?..Al-Fatihah for both of them, lili..what God giveth God taketh..for we all are His..and whatever time we have on this planet, it is at His pleasure..and children are not born to slip into the shoes of their mother..oh no...let parents be the guiding light, yes..let them be a source of inspirations, yes..think not of what traits you inherited..but strive instead for values they have proud of them, that they may be proud of you...

lili said...

Thanks Pakmat... nicely put. Traits are not to be inherited... it's true. I believe, wealth, honour and respect are to be earned. :)

anneaziz said...

Salam Ateh,

Now for my Hallmark moment! You really got me here! Can't imagine the life led by your anak2 buah! Walau macam mana kasih pun orang, mesti lonely.

GOD is Great. God gave us hearts which are strong, able to absorb the pain, kalau kita redho'

Here's something for you.

Byron wrote:

There's not a joy the world can give like that it takes away
When the glow of early thought declines in feeling's dull decay;
'Tis not on youth's smooth cheek the blush alone, which fades so fast,
But the tender bloom of heart is gone, ere youth itself be past.

Then the few whose spirits float above the wreck of happiness
Are driven o'er the shoals of guilt, or ocean of excess:
The magnet of their course is gone, or only points in vain
The shore to which their shivered sail shall never stretch again.

Then the mortal coldness of the soul like death itself comes down;
It cannot feel for others' woes, it dare not dream its own;
That heavy chill has frozen o'er the fountain of our tears,
And though the eye may sparkle still, 'tis where the ice appears.

Though wit may flash from fluent lips, and mirth distract the breast,
Through midnight hours that yield no more their former hope of rest,
'Tis but as ivy-leaves around the ruined turret wreath -
All green and wildly fresh without, but worn and grey beneath.

Oh, could I feel as I have felt, or be what I have been,
Or weep as I could once have wept, o'er many a vanished scene;
As springs in deserts found seem sweet, all brackish though they be,
So, midst the withered waste of life, those tears would flow to me.

lili said...

Thanks Anne for this lovely piece.
For once, I'm speechless...