A DATE NEVER FORGOTTEN

It was a Friday like today 34 years ago when I received news that my eldest brother had passed away. He was in Ipoh, a final year land survey student at Politeknik Ungku Omar.

I was in Muar doing my Form Six. My parents and my youngest brother were at home in Johor Bahru.

The brother-in-law of my aunt’s husband, who lived in Muar, came by the hostel to break the news. There was kuliah at the college in the morning but I stayed in instead. I woke up feeling extremely cold – chilling to the bones – although the weather was warm that morning. He said my parents would be picking me up later to go to Kuala Lumpur to bring the body home.

My parents had received a telegram from the polytechnic informing them of his death. My father called the polytechnic to confirm the news and got in touch with other family members.

In the car to Kuala Lumpur, they discussed funeral arrangements. They decided not to bring the body home but to bury him in Kuala Lumpur instead.

A cousin, whose husband worked at the Sungai Siput police station, claimed the body from the hospital in Ipoh. He took the body to his house to prepare for transfer.

My paternal aunt and her husband went to Sungai Siput to bring the body back to Kuala Lumpur.

They arrived in Taman Tun Dr Ismail in Kuala Lumpur at 1am Saturday morning.  They had stopped in Trolak where some of his college mates were waiting to see him for the last time.

His body was already prepared for burial but they opened the kain kafan for us. We saw and kissed him for the last time.

At 10am Saturday morning, he was buried at the Petaling Jaya Muslim cemetery.

He would have been 54 this year.