I used to think parents have the answers to everything.

They were an unstoppable force, and nothing is beyond their comprehension. It doesn't matter what problem you have, parents always seem to have a solution. They were invincible. Invulnerable, even. If you had a bee sting on your forehead, you do this. If you scrape your knee, apply concoction A. if you feel feverish, concoction X will do the trick. Everything had an answer.


Now try walking around barefooted.

When my dad didn't know how to tell us my mom was really sick, he was also at a loss. At least I would guess so. Imagine growing up idolizing a superhero, only to realize that even superheroes stub their toes at the kitchen cabinet and bleed.

It all started with a phone call from the hospital, telling us to get there ASAP because you were sick. Your room was an unnerving symphony of klaxons and beeps. The pulse reader on your finger kept giving out error readings and the numbers on the ECG were never consistent.

We took turns reciting the Yassin to your ears because it was your favorite verse but I think you were under sedation. Even so, the pain was clearly written on your face. My sister was obviously crying, and I was trying very hard to put up a strong front, even when I can feel all my heart strings being tugged upon. Perhaps acting made it all so much easier.


"Why is everyone laughing?" the little boy asked.

"They find him funny," she replied. It was the boy's very first theater show, and he was watching Keris Laksamana Bentan. One of the palace guards had this uncanny ability to keep a straight face while announcing the arrivals of characters for the Sultan. There were many more shows to follow. It eventually led to the boy involving himself heavily in the performance arts. Something that will eventually be a major part in his future, the very stones of a foundation that will later greatly define the boy's life philosophy when he grows up.

I thought I could get on with acting that nothing affects me. At least not much. I thought. I should at least try to be strong for this one. I still think I am the best actor in the world in this one particular play.

We used to have all these boards with wildlife species listed on it. Pictures included. The one that really caught my eye, and shape a very big part of my early life was the one on marine life. Now that I think about it, it sure does sound funny when you think about everything again. I started out my university career, very sure that I want a career in marine biology but ended up in social sciences instead. There is still that small part of me wondering how things would turn out if I were persistent enough. Or stubborn enough.


All this waiting, it really sucks.

The mix of emotions and thoughts, dread, and hope, all in that one little room filled with beeps. The hardest part was waiting for something to happen. Maybe a miracle, maybe a scientific breakthrough, maybe just… something.


Every minute or so, the breathing machine thing resuscitator or whatever you call it would give off a very loud beep. The nurses say it was not supposed to happen, but since the machine is working fine, we decided to just bear with it.



I wonder what's on your mind right now. I wonder what do you hear, feel or see right now. Can you feel the tubes sticking to your skin? Can you hear us?

What are your current thoughts?

I think everyone would want that kind of power lah, okay?

The young man just looks at her. They were talking about what kind of powers would people want the most, and have just came upon the conclusion that the ability to read minds and emotions is the most priceless power you can ever have. He would like very much to use it on someone, to know what her feelings for him are because it's the answer he wants very much at that point of life. He looks at the girl, and she gives him a nod of approval.

Damn, now that's a very cool power to have.


Packets upon packets replaced on the IV drip and still, no change. I was secretly hoping, no, praying that you will be okay. Simply because I think dad's going to be very lonely once you're gone. If you were to go away. He will no longer have a Qigong partner. No one else to bash Malaysian politics with while watching the news on TV. He will no longer have someone to…. I don't know, maybe just 'no longer has that someone'.

Preposterous, she said.

The boy looked up at her. Why?
"Because it is his job. If you are a lecturer, so you should do what a lecturer should do. You can be so much more but you can never forget that you are a lecturer."

It was a talk about ethics, about how someone should do the things they should do. This was in response to a certain lecturer who was always busy with his moonlighting.

Do what you're supposed to do, she added. That's how you move on.




I kept my fingers crossed that you would actually spring back and shout April's Fool even though it was already June, laughing out loud because you pulled one over us. You never did.  



"I've never seen you cry. Come to think of it, I've never seen you laugh either."

The girl's words hit him like a truck.

She was always the one with the deep observations, and the right words to make their conversations flow seamlessly every time they met. It was always just right when it was the two of them

He was 5 or 6, running outside his house doing what other boys his age would do if you give them space – practically anything possible. Suddenly, this one insect landed on the boy's forehead. Without even thinking twice, he gave it a good slap.

Apparently, bees are not meant to be slapped, and the boy just learned how biology and common sense go hand in hand, the hard way. A big swelling developed on his forehead and he ran to his mom, crying. The first thing she did?

Laugh like mad.

The boy stopped crying and laughed along with her, even though he had no idea what was going on. The swelling on the forehead was starting to feel pretty cool too. The story lived on in the many years to come.



Yes sir, right now.


You have to wake up. I bought a lot of books recently, and some of them are cookbooks. I bought them thinking we can work on it on Sundays like we used to do when I was a little boy. I have this one cookbook on chocolate, one on bread, one on other random stuffs. I think I've got all the bases covered.

We just have to wait for a Sunday.

We continue taking turns reciting the Yassin. I see you close your eyes when it was my elder brother's turn. I noticed that the ECG too, no longer works. I vividly remember telling myself that they should really do something about all these 'faulty' machines they have here. The beeps were driving us restless. I played with your pulse reader and put my finger inside, and the error messages no longer appear. A proper reading came out. I put it back on your finger, and the same error message keeps on coming out. That's when I received a phone call from a friend, asking if everything was okay.

Yeah, things are good now, I told him. She just started sleeping, after all.

When I got back into the room, we REALLY noticed the ECG. It was flat. My dad was consistently checking for a pulse, asking the others to confirm if they too, felt it. She was still breathing after all, so we thought it could be another faulty machine thing. So he called in a doctor.

The first thing the doctor did was feel around her neck. His fluid, casual movements suddenly stopped its momentum as he suddenly shifted into a faster, almost robotic pace. He put his stethoscope on, and was looking for a heartbeat. I thought to myself, things will be okay even though a small part of me already feared for the worst. After all, I've known you all my life and I rarely see people more stubborn than you. You're too stubborn to die. Persistent would be a kinder word but since I'm your son, I still have the right to make fun of you, like we always do during football matches because you were a non-Liverpool fan.




When he opened your already closed eyes, I somehow knew that the truth has already made itself known. Looking up, the doctor said in a very soft voice that you were no longer with us. I guess sometimes stubbornness is not a factor.





That baking Sunday will never come by. You were gone, just like that. Peaceful maybe but it was... somewhat sudden. IS THAT IT? Just like that, and you were gone? Isn't there a better way? I was thinking about how unfair this was but then I realized, this was also the first time you looked so healthy compared to your previous bouts with the hospital.


Waking up this morning, it all felt like a bad dream, and I was half-expecting to see you down there at the newspaper table reading Brenda Starr, which I still think is one of the worst comics ever made. Instead, I only see you wrapped in white, motionless, and the only thing I can read on your face was the peace and serenity forever written into the wrinkles of your face.

She asked, "You joking or what?" He wasn't sure what to say.
Thankfully, the line got cut off for a brief few seconds, enough for him to gather his thoughts, his composure, and reply to the rest of her questions. "Eh, sorry about just now." "Oh it's okay. I'm used to you already," he said with a very big grin on his face. There were laughter on both sides of the phone.

I'm used to having you around and it will feel awkward from this point hereon.
I had so many thoughts I wanted to jot down when it was all happening but right now the only thoughts I have are of the future. I seriously wonder what it will be like without you here. I think it's difficult to adjust to this new life now but like I always say, "Give it a chance."

It'll all work out.


I started the day losing my wallet, and ended it with losing you. I still don't know where my wallet is but at least I know where to find you.



Maybe part of the answer to everything was simply just by being with you.