The official announcement and invite is out!

First the tax man cometh with an axe to grind, now the TV is on the blitz and demanding replacing. Hmmm… pay taxes or buy new LCD TV? Which one shall it be?

The old one has served me coming close to 10 years now- older than my eldest child. It has seen the antics of 3 spirited kids. Been painted and drawn on. Takes a while to come alive. Has brought so much cheer to the kids lives. Imparted much knowledge through it’s partnership with Playhouse Disney, Discovery Channel, AFC. Showed me the harsh realities of planes slamming into the WTC very early one morning.

Yes, it has lived a very long and fulfilling life. And now, it’s given me an excuse to get a spanking brand new set. If only it’d lasted till bonus time…. sigh. So the question remains- pay taxes or new tv? Should be very obvious, innit? >:)

It’s sometimes difficult to believe, but it’s been 20 years since I took my SPM- the culmination of 5 years of high school education in Victoria Institution; not mentioning the 6 years of primary school (Sekolah Kebangsaan Hishamuddin Alam Shah) education leading to that.

20 years since the joys, ordeals and pranks of being stuck with a whole bunch of other boys- except for the sixth former girls, and a bunch of lady teachers- some more remarkable than others- haha, you all know who I’m talking about, right boys?

I was one of those who was more out of the classroom, especially in Form 5, than in. This was thanks to the VICC Band- but that’s a whole different story. But those were the times that shaped my life and attitude for the times to come. I recall the tom fooleries of setting up time-bombs (mercun attached to mosquito coils), the toils of being in school till very late (as well as Saturdays) for Band parades, the pride of knowing you were part of the best, the hopelessness of Additional Maths, the truancy of the honeymoon year, and definitely the spirit of camaraderie of friends in the same pickle as me.

So you boys of Batch ’89, it’s time for that ‘momentous’ reunion. For all of us to catch up, have fun and realize we’re still the right wankers we were from 20 years ago… haha. To relive some of the glory years; and retell tales of stupid heroics and hilarious antics. A night where we become small boys again… well, at least till 10 pm <wink wink>.

We’re planning the official gathering at the VIOBA lawn on school grounds. A cocktail party of sorts- with good food, 80′s music, lucky draws, awards handout. So brush up on the school song (both BM and English versions) cause we’ll be belting out the evergreen hit this October 24th starting 7pm till 10pm. There’s been talk of pole dancers, but it’s just a rumour going round (or is it?). Guess, we’ll have to be there to truly find out. And if at the end of it, the night is still young for some (those who got their ‘visas’ sorted out), we can always have an after-party to cap the night.

The Organising fellas will come out with more details soon; but there’ll be a ‘donation’ of RM50 required per person to cover the reunion proper costs (after party is additional and optional). If you’re not already there, there’s a Facebook page for VI Class of 89. Anyway, I’ll post updates when I hear about them.

Can’t wait-it’s gonna be smokin’ and not just from the ciggies and the kambing bakar! And you peeps who’re based overseas- there’s plenty of time to book your flights, so no excuses!

Sometimes in life, things will suddenly pop it’s head that you least expect, and catch you by surprise. Last night, was one of those times. And though I find it hard to believe how such a thing could have become, I know I must deal with it. In life, you need to play with the cards you’re dealt with, unless you wanna thrown in your hand. I’m still in the game…

It’s always a bit difficult approaching the month of July, not that it has always been that way. For the longest time July meant for us not the American Independence Day, but marks the birth of our dear elder sister. So a belated “Happy Birthday!” to you Kakak. As usual, birthdays are joyous events all of us look forward to. In my family, birthdays used to come every couple of months, beginning with November- Shaniza and Seri, January- Mum and Abang Mi, then March- myself, May- Dad, July- Kakak. Of course, with the kiddies coming about, at the start it still fitted this rule- Siti Nur in September, Emily then Haris both in August. However with Shafiq and Lisha- it skewed the timing a little- with both being born in June. At least with Opie, it fell back to scheme- January.

But no, the forlorn is not due to the growing number of birthdays to celebrate (not including relatives/ in-laws), but back in 2003- a few days (3 to be exact) after Kakak’s birth anniversary, marked the start of a another anniversary. Not a happy one though… for my father passed away then- 10am, 7/7/2003. 3 days after Kakak’s birthday, 2 months after his birthday, we lost 1 great, supportive, loving, generous man- a father, a husband, a grandfather and a leader. All in one day.

So you can understand it when I can’t give much care about MJ’s death, no matter how big he was in the music  scene. I have my own grieving to do. So, I grow moody approaching the date. A little melancholy and perhaps a little to easily annoyed without realizing it. Then I’d look at the calendar and see it’s already July.

This year marks the 6th year of his passing. How time flies. I still can recall that last day and last moments before God took him for his next journey. How grateful I am, that my heart was moved to go and visit him when Mum called when I was about to go to work. That Shaniza decided to follow. After seeing him go through worse, we were sometimes over confident that he’d pull through each time.

I still remember arriving at his room (our 2nd home for some 6+ months), and finding him calm- seemingly having recovered from his breathing difficulties earlier. Just to be safe, they rolled him into the ICU for observations. I followed with Mum and Seri. Shaniza stayed behind to look after some of our things. When he was settled in, I then took my leave to join Shaniza and make other arrangements. It was not more than a few minutes, then my phone rang, and Seri asked me to hurry back.

Doctors were busying themselves around him. I can see it all in my mind. All until they stopped doing anymore. We were all there in the room. Thank the All Mighty that we were not chased away. In fact the doctors worked around us- and we knew enough the positions where we’d not get in their way. I remembered still sitting by his head, holding him and saying things and reminding him of certain things. I think I was the last to be aware that he was gone, despite being physically closest at that point. It was only after the doctors left the room did it start to sink in.

The rest was a blur of happenings until he was safely buried. I have snapshots of it, but mostly I was too busy organizing things, doing other things, receiving people, talking to friends and family, calling people. And again, I’m ever so grateful for the help that God gave us through friends and neighbours and especially family members- close and far, and not forgetting some of his staff (current and ex). Everyone just made it easier to bear. So the anniversary is not only to remember him, but also the countless faces that made a difficult time that much easier to go through. We may not have thank these people enough, and only God can repay them for their good deeds. Thank you…

Does it get easier to deal? Yes, I suppose. Do you ever forget? Never! May God preserve these memories in me, so I never forget and never take for granted those things that he showed us that 1 day. There are some regrets, some people I’d wished he’d been able to see- Haris and Lisha. But all we can do now, is to pray for him. May God forgive him his sins, and judge him one of the pious and grant him access to Heaven in the Akhirah. Amin.

Al-fatihah.