To Love Unconditionally.

It's just been a week and to my surprise, so many blogs has been pulled out, or am I the last to know about all this?

Anyways, I managed to go back to my hometown for just two days whereby the first two days were spent here. 'Yer Yesia' (Air Asia) bad services just made me miss MAS so much. But really, for having to drive almost an hour to get to KLIA, check in 2 hours before departure, the airplane's air conditioning can go out of order, it's not worth it for a journey that only takes 55 minutes in a very upright crammed seating position... just not worth it! I would rather take the executive coach, or the train next time.

Raya trip is different this year, my family couldn't make it back with me whereas all our relatives are not in KL, semua balik kampung. The first two days were such a drag. I think the trip to Perkuburan Islam Kiara was the most memorable. It is a sprawling garden as usual, and then further coloured by the traditional Raya outfit all the visitors were wearing to visit those who are gone.

All Muslim women were there in their tudungs and bodies clothed even to hide their curves. Suddenly a different sight caught my eyes. Two ladies in pants and hair uncovered were brushing a grave laboriously. And then a very fair skinned man walked towards it with a jar of water and flower petals and pour it onto the grave.

I couldn't help but to stop and ask.

"Assalamualaikum. Is this your family member's grave?"

The older of the two ladies said, "Kita bukan orang Islam. Ini kubur anak perempuan kita, dia masuk Islam."

Aaahh, no wonder they came as themselves.

"Kubur Ceennaa (Cina), messsar (besar), tapi banyak buruk, banyak takut mau tengok aaaa. Kubur Milayu banyak cantik, banyak sinang hati mau tengok." The older lady explained while illustrating the size of Chinese grave with her hands.

"Anak aunty masuk Islam macamana? Kahwin orang Islam?"

"Dia sindiri masuk." Her family whom I assume are her daughter and son started to smile at me. They later stood together in silence to pay their respect towards the grave with shining white tombstone and covered with gleaming clean greyish pebbles.

Their daughter's Muslim name is Nafeesah binti Abdullah.

I slowly walked off.

****
There are other graves which I know has not been visited since I first visited this place, there are actually good samaritans who clean the shrubs and moss from their family's grave and by the way, the stranger's grave beside it.

Is it that once someone is gone for good, the love and thought has to also end?

I must thank my Uncle Hisham for his thoughts to send a representative to perform Haj on behalf of my late father. That kind of thought from an adopted sibling is something even more rare.

****