Harry Potter and the Holy River

The Holy River's current state of pathetic-ness

I cannot cannot cannot believe it. The Harry Potter movies have come to an end. I am genuinely crying right now as I type this. Believe me, I am. There is no exact words to describe this. Sentimental, emotional... maybe it is all of it merged into one. The books, and in some ways the movies too, have taught me so much about life. They may have been set in a completely fantasized, fictional world. But the problems and issues the characters face are so real life- like. Here is my personal journey within the world of Harry Potter.

I still don' understand why the American and international version had Sorcerror's Stone in it instead of Philosopher. I mean, people outside Britain do understand what 'philisopher' means right? And how does that differ from a wizard? Poor kids had to do two separate scenes where the say Philosopher during one shoot, then Sorcerer at another. So much confusion...

Harry Potter & The Philosopher's Stone (2001)

I was eleven and in Standard 5 when I first watched the first Harry Potter movie. I was not totally crazy about it. But then I bought the first book in the saga and read it, trying to make a comparison with the movie.

And it hit me...

I immediately fell in love with the world of Harry Potter.

Harry Potter & The Chamber of Secrets (2002)

I read the second book a few months later. But it was difficult getting a hold of one book because they are quiet costly - over 30 Ringgit, which does not fit in with my allowance. So my dad would usually buy them for me. And on some occasions, my aunt, who has always been fascinated with my love for reading, would buy them as birthday presents for me.

The Chamber of Secrets was my favourite book in the series for a while. The fact that Tom Riddle was not only the heir of Slytherin, but also the younger version of Voldermolt, just caught me by surprise. Initially, I assumed it was the pompous Percy Weasly, as he appeared to be too good and too well-behaved even for a respectable prefect.

Maybe I would have experienced the same effect had I read the Philosopher's Stone first rather than watch the film instead. Since I already knew that it was Professor Quirrell who was plotting with Voldermolt rather than Professor Snape since I had watched the movie first, there was no much thrill in reading the book, thought I instantly fell in love with Rowling's humour and suspense in writing.

Harry Potter & The Prisoner of Azkaban (2002)

I remember dad buying me the third book  - The Prisoner of Azkaban somewhere in the middle of the year before sending me off to tuition. Despite my UPSR examination being just around the corner, I made it a must to complete the book no matter what. Maybe I could not stand the pressure of not knowing how the third book would go while studying. I might have not been able to concentrate.

Harry Potter & The Goblet of Fire (2003)

I don't quite remember when I started reading the fourth book, though it was given to me by my aunt before I watched the first film, which she had borrowed from her school library. I remember pushing the book away because I was turned off by the thickness of The Goblet of Fire. It looked like a dictionary for heaven's sake! But then I bought my own copy and read it perhaps somewhere during my first year in secondary school, in Form One if I am not mistaken.

For the first time, someone with much character development died - Cedric Diggory. It was not that much of an important character, and some might have disliked him since he had the girl that Harry likes, Cho Chang. And once again, the writer had managed to trick the readers. Nobody would have expected the Barty Crouch that Harry saw in the Marauder's Map was actually pretending to be Mad-Eye Moody all along! I mean, he helped Harry win the Triwizard Tournament for heaven's sake! JK Rowling, you're a genius! Unlike the guys who made the movies, and were dumb to have not included this part into the film. It would have been epic! 

It was also around the same time the Chamber of Secrets movie came out. All the scenes were there just like I visualized!

Like this one! It was amazing!

Harry Potter & The Order of The Phoenix (2003)

It was also on the same year I read The Order of The Phoenix. This was the first time I received a hard cover version as a birthday present from my aunt. The paper cover was beautiful but irritating, and I would keep it away most of the time and only carry the book. I think it was a relative who commented once that it looked like I was carrying a Bhagavad Gita everywhere. How cynical.

There was much build-up from the press during this time since someone dies in the book. It was disappointing that it turned out to be Sirius. The hype of the anticipation was so big back then that I was expecting it to be either Ron or Hermionie (touch wood!).

But yes, Bellatrix was a monster!

The third movie came out a year later in 2004 and it was then when I really fell in love with the movies. The director was changed from Chris Columbus to Alfonso Cuaron. I liked the latter's interpretation of the world of Harry Potter better. The kids return to Hogwarts as teenagers, and there is a touch of real life in the film with the characters wearing jeans, t-shirts and hoodies. The scary, PG 13 Dementors were also rather horrifying. The movie franchise was definitely growing up, just like its fans. I remember fighting over a newspaper cutting with a classmate of mine who was also a Potter maniac like me, except she liked the movies solely and had never read the book. What a waste...

Harry Potter & The Half Blood Prince (2005)

Somewhere in mid 2005, there was the sixth novel in the series, The Half Blood Prince. Forget my PMR trial examination. Forget the actual PMR itself. I wanted the book! And I wanted it bad! This time, it was back to dad's turn to get me the book. It was another hardcover one, and yet another anticipated mocking of the "carrying the Bhagavad Gita around would be more useful and blah.. blah.. blah..

Once again, there was much more hype prior to the release of the book. Unlike before, writer JK Rowling [and my own personal here :)]  did not release any teaser-like comments about a character dying and increasing the anticipation of her wide fan base.  But this time, the title itself created much speculation on who the Half Blood Prince actually was. All Jo (as JK is fondly known) mentioned was it would not be Harry Potter himself or Voldermolt @ Tom Riddle @ The Dark Lord @ He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named @ You-Know-Who @ Orang takde hidung.

But my dad did not buy it for me immediately. I don't really remember, but I think I only received the book after my actual PMR and read it hungrily like a starving person who has just been served with dinner at a fancy restaurant. I refused to read any reviews, or listen to the summary of the story from any of my friends who had finished the book. Instead, like a true Potter maniac, I read the book myself, page by page.

And once again Jo had successfully stunned me with her beautiful writing, and not to mention the twist end. Who would have known? The not-so-good and not-so-bad Professor Snape could have been the Half Blood Prince all along. And not it the way we would have expected it. And with that second last book, the hype and speculation for the next and final book was thus created.

Is Professor Snape good or evil?

Now forget about the book. This was also the same year The Goblet of Fire film came out and my family and I went and watched it in a cineplex in Ipoh since Taiping, my hometown, did not have one yet. Though some of my favourite parts were not included, it surely appeared to be more of a teen film compared to the goody goody Chris Columbus ones. This was the period of sexual awakening for the characters.

There was Rob Pattinson, the soon to be Twilight dude, as the dashing Cedric Diggory, and the super macho, alpha male Viktor Krum. And Hermionie had never looked more enchanting. The Yule Ball scene was most spectacular.

Harry Potter & The Deadly Hallows (2007)

Since it is the most recent one, I remember almost vividly how my journey within the world of Harry Potter came to an end. It was after my SPM exam trial. Despite my more brainy friends deciding to read the book after the actual SPM examination, I could not concentrate on my lesson knowing that the final book in the saga of a lifetime was out and I was desperate to know how it all ends!

So once the SPM trial was done with, I pestered dad to get me the book. The final book! The very last one! I would never ask anything else from you, Pa! Just this one tiny last book! Please!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So I begged.  And I must have been super annoying because dad obliged.

I was done with the book in less than ten days. It took a rather long time since I also had to study for the exam. But when I was done, there was no emotional crying or anything. Maybe there was the pressure of having to study for the exam.

A few months earlier, the Order of the Phoenix movie came out, and it was heavily panned by the critics. And when I say critics, I'm talking about my classmates who are fellow Potter maniacs. But in reality, their chief was just jealous of Daniel Radcliffe for being named the richest teenager in the UK not too long ago.  So this person simply decided to hate all his movies to, I don't know, demasculinate him! Haha!  There were all kinds of problems with the movie for this person; like the kissing scene, and the nightmare scenes. I was like what???

After that... (2009 - 2011)

So, I started to relive the magic of Harry Potter via the movies, since the books have ended. The Half Blood Prince movie came out during my second foundation year. The experience watching it in the cinema with my buddies turned out to be a nightmare. I suppose the two Japanese or Korean ladies sitting in front of us, who spoke fake queen English didn't like me explainng the story to my friend who had not read or seen the previous installations. So one of them turned to us and just said...

"Excuse me, I paid for my ticket too. So could you please SHUT it!"

Wow. And as if that was not painful enough, while walking out of the cinema, the same woman said to her friend, "Harry Potter is the most read book in the world. I don't need someone telling me the story."

"Hello, missy! Nobody was telling YOU the story, I was merely explaining some unclear details to my friend. The whole world does not revolve around you. So get out of yourself. And by the way, haven't you heard of something we civilized people call manners? I don't know about from whatever rude, God-forsaken country you come from, but over here, when someone does something unpleasant, you tell them to stop it nicely and sweetly. Not by cursing or raising your voice. And if being polite doesn't work, you call the authorities. Okay? Tell whomever you're dating or in a relationship with, if such a person exists in the first place, that I wish them good luck having you in their life, because you're definitely not socially inclined. Thanks. Bye."

Even though I did not actually tell her this, it was running over in my head. How I wish I could just spank her right then and there. Whatever it is, I'm pretty sure she is unhappy with her life right now, if not completely miserable. I mean, the humiliation she caused us that day is still clear in my head. Something as traumatizing as that does not just go unaffected. There is something called Karma. And it will get back to you.

I'm not sure if it was because my mood was out that day, or was the movie simply not up to my expectations. I mean, Dumbledore showed Harry lots of memories in his Pensive. Some of the best memory scenes were ignored. Like, I had always visualized a handsome and normal looking Ralph Fiennes in the memory where he returns to Hogwarts as a grown man, seeking the position as the Defense teacher, to which Dumbledore rejects his application, and ever since then, no Defense teacher ever lasted more than a year at the school. It would have been great if it was included. Not to mention the memories in the Gaunt house. I was disappointed.

The final book was split into two films. I watched both of them here in the UK with my buddies. These movies were everything that I had expected. After watching The Deadly Hallows Part 2 recently, I came home and just cried like a baby. It was like the last remaining chunk of my living childhood was forcefully taken away from me.

This was me, the rose among the thorns... hehe... when we went to watch the Deadly Hallows Part 1 last winter after our School Based Experience.

Speaking of crying like a baby, during the scene where Harry supposedly dies, a few girls in the cinema hall, who clearly had not read the books, simply cried................ aloud! How can one not giggle at that? You tell me. And the way they cried, God! It was like the end of the world. Well, can't really make fun of them. I cried too. But for a more dignified reason, if I may say so. Huh.

Though I have always been in love with the books, the ending of the movie saga also made me realize how much the movies had helped me bring the magic of the books to life. I had grown up with the books, the movies and even the actors. Seeing the first and second movie, and seeing how young Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint, Emma Watson, Tom Felton and the rest of the young cast were, just reminds me of how much I myself have grown. I read the books alone, but all those memories of watching and enjoying the movies with  my family is something I would treasure always...

Bye Bye Tanjung Pagar Railway Station...

I am not really a history buff but when I discovered that there was a piece of Singapore that was still owned by Malaysia, (and I am not talking about Pulau Batu Putih now know as Pedra Branca), I was baffled.

I was like... what in the world is a part of Malaysia doing in Singapore?

Confused? So was I. But then I looked on the interned and discovered this...

TANJUNG PAGAR RAILWAY STATION...

It's rather weird that Tanjung Pagar used to be owned by Malayan Railways or Kereta Api Tanah Melayu (KTMB), which though privatized is still fully owned by the Malaysian government. So, strangely the land on which the tracks and the station stands used to be owned by us - Malaysia!

Here is where it gets more complicated. You go through Malaysian customs when you enter the platform at the railway station. But then, you have to go through Singapore customs when you physically leave Singapore around half an hour later.

The station is now relocated to the Woodlands Train Checkpoint, which is closer to the actual Malaysian-Singapore border. This may seem more sensible, but it would have been an iconic mark had there been a tiny part of Malaysia still existing within the heart of Singapore even after decades of separation. Malaysia will also relocate its customs and immigration facilities to Woodlands.

The interior hall is opened to the public. 

Just like in Taiping railway station!

The station is supposedly popular for its very Malaysian hawker stalls. 

Ticket counter...

Another beautiful ticket counter...

An immaculate clock at the departure platform...

I'm not sure if all Singaporeans understand Malay, but most Malaysians think they just pretend not to to make themselves look posh... but a sign in English would have helped more...

Very artistic Art Deco design indeed...

The old Malay spelling is still maintained. In Malaysia, 'bilek' (room) is now spelled 'bilik'. Seems like a deliberate attempt to give the whole station a very nostalgic, pre-separation, pre-independence touch.

Four marble statues by Italian sculptor Rudolfo Nolli can be seen at the station's exterior. They represent the four pillar of the Malaysian economy at that time - agriculture, commerce, transport and industry.  The initials F, M, S, R; one above each statue mean Federated Malay States Railways, which was probably KTMB's English name before it was privatized.

Meet Mr. Industry!

Seeing 'Tanjung (cape) spelled as 'Tanjong' , which is in old Malay, it explains why 'bilik' is spelled as 'bilek'. Maybe Singaporean Malay still follows the older spelling manner. Maybe. I don't really know...

One might assume that the Malaysian Royal Police Force actually has jurisdiction in the heart of Singapore. Quite funny actually when you think about it. Maybe they might not even have changed the sign ever!

Typical Malaysian style. Can't even invest on proper erasing. Had to crudely cancel off 'Hotel' from the sign board instead of replacing it or covering up the words properly. No wonder our southern neighbours can easily make fun of us - we rub our weaknesses right up in their 'kiasu' faces!

Enchanting mosaic panels in the station's main lobby. They all portray Peninsular Malaysia's core activities at the time the station was built. Among them are tin-mining, rice-planting, rubber tapping, coconut-planting, maritime trade and many more agricultural based sectors. Singapore Rubber Works (which I highly doubt still exist since I am quite sure there are no longer any rubber plantations in the city-state) made these mosaic panel tiles out of coloured rubber through a patented process.

The stars with eight points which can be found on the ceiling near the entrance represents harmony and balance. Eight is an auspicious number to represent balance since the architecture of the station is a balanced blend of East and West.

The 72-feet barrel vault... makes it look even more like a railway station in Europe...

Even the back of the building is very European. 

This sign, which was removed years ago, was supposedly to show Malaysia's ownership over the station and the land surrounding it. 

There was once a famous hotel on the second floor of the station that gave the prestigious Raffles Hotel a run for its money. But in typical Malaysian fashion, the hotel had been closed down and is not badly maintained. A suicide also took place there once, sparking another sensational Singaporean Ghost Story. 

It is sad to see another piece of our Malaysian heritage lost to the hands of our southern neighbour. There have been calls, from withing Singapore itself, to maintain this historical icon as it is. But I suppose the Prime Ministers of both nations have a good reason for wanting to continue with this. The station will not be demolished, instead it would be preserved by some Singaporean historical board. 

There is also another railway station in Bukit Timah, Singapore which is still owned by KTMB. Though less popular and less esthetical, lets just hope this one still remains Malaysia since it is situated slightly up north in Singapore. Unlike this one and Tanjong Pagar's at one point, Woodlands is co-owned by both countries.

What I don't understand is why Malaysia could not have removed and relocated the entire station brick by brick to our country. Is it because it might be too expensive? But think about tourism! Wouldn't it be a good investment. Now it will all be too late. The building belongs to Singapore now, and they will definitely do wonders with it. 

I would definitely want to visit this place some day. 

Madam Clara's Visit!

My birthday month was not kind on me... with the passing on of someone very dear to me and all... But not all was bad. My beloved tutor from Gaya came down to Plymouth on an official visit. It was so good to finally meet Madam Clara after almost one whole year!

This was when we had a barbecue somewhere during the end of May last year to celebrate our last few days in Sabah before we all returned home and got ready to leave for UK. Don't really have a picture with Madam Clara. But trust me, she was there with her cute granddaughter and we had lots of fun!

Earlier that year, our class threw her a surprise birthday party. To me, it was one of our most heart-rendering moments together. Her sister had past away earlier that month and she was too sad to remember her own special day. It was our surprise that brought a smile to her face after so many days. She was pleased and it was a truly meaningful day for all of us.

As part of her visit, a few friends and I took her around Plymouth's city center. We shopped at the all the famous places - Drake Circus, Royal Parade... you name it. Madam had a few things she needed to buy back for her family at home.

Thank God we had Pijan and Syafiq with us, who are football fans. They knew which jersey to buy for which football team with the right colour coding at the right price. Qis and the girls helped Madam out with the English tablecloths and baby wear.

And of course, there was me. Always taking pictures all the time! Hehe... For lunch, we had a nice big meal at Nawrooz. Madam was naturally surprised to see the size of the chicken piece they served there. But she definitely enjoyed her meal, especially the soup they serve for starters.

A few days later, we had a little gathering at the guest house where Madam stayed. Dinner that evening was potluck style. I prepared chocolate cake for dessert. There was much dispute on whether I baked it myself or bought if from Asda... and I don't plan to reveal it here.

We definitely had a great time together. It is not always we get to meet like this. We missed Madam and we surely missed each other. It was just like old times...

Since we had agreed that we would take turns to prepare dinner for Madam, it was my turn to cook on her last day in Plymouth. Faiz, Eunice and I cooked her some nice sweet and sour chicken with some Papadoms. They both don't go together, but they surely made a decent meal. Tan and our senior David made some mixed veggie with some light snacks.

Madam surely enjoyed her meal, though I knew she's not the type who goes for second rounds. But it was a pleasant evening though.

Madam also told me about her plans while she was still here in Europe. She had Qis help her plan a trip to Paris and a few other places. After all, she herself was not very sure when she would get this similar opportunity again. She might as well use this chance to travel around.

I did not wake up in time the next morning to send her off as I overslept like a pig. I would surely miss Madam. She is the type of lecturer, or teacher as I would say, who never keeps any ill feelings towards others. She is forever forgiving and kind in her words, not to mention soft-spoken and completely humble despite her position as a college lecturer.

I miss you, Madam............

Balding: A Curse

Alright... so it's not something totally surprising to me. My hair started falling rapidly all the way back when I was  studying for my SPM, when I was seventeen. The floor of my bedroom was white marbled. I would sweep the floor in the afternoon, and by night, the amount of hair that had fallen from my head would be crystal-clear obvious on the floor. Mum was first to notice.

Then there was once when I came home from college for mid-term break. At the airport, Dad swept my hair to the back, revealing a HUGE forehead! And I thought that only happened when I cut my hair short in a crew cut! Once back in National Service camp, my coach played a prank on those in my platoon by putting black ink on everyone's forehead... except mine. He said it would be too obvious in my case since my forehead was HUGE!

Now, it has been a few years. I've tried everything. Growing my hair as long as I can too cover my forehead in a shaggy, Bieber-ish kind of way, but my hair at the front just refused to grow any longer. Right now, I think the hair at the back and the side of my head are 80 to 90 percent longer than the one at the front. They say that if the father of your mother had a receding hairline, there is almost a big possibility that you might inherit that. Late Grandpa had serious balding problems. Not good news. Most of his sons inherited this. Dad used to poke fun at them that they all had airport landing grounds on their heads. Great. Give it a few years time, or at this rate, maybe even months, and your son will have one on his head too. Great job,
Dad.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrggggggghhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!! I don't wanna be botak!

What a shame. Its funny that I inherited the amount of melanin in my skin from Dad, but not his amazing Will Schuester hair! He has the most curled and healthy fro. But I din't get that from him. Oh, God... maybe He knew I would be such a complain pot that he did this to me. Who's to say I don't deserve it.

So, I've been looking through the internet for options on how to hide my balding head. Most websites suggest that a short hairstyle best suit a huge forehead since it distracts the attention from the balding area to other parts of the face. Short hairstyle? Hmmm... nope... I think I will pass that. I can't possibly rock the mean, macho look ever. Crew cuts, close shaves... not me.

Bangs? Errr... I'd love that. Keeps the youthfulness in any look. But not so sure if I can carry that. It has come to a level where my hairline is forming a sort of M shape. So the only hair that I can afford to pull down to my forehead are the few strands in the middle. Awful... and not to mention pathetic. So that one's out.

I did consider some layering. I mean, there are all types of layered haircuts, at least one must fit me right? But then, most of these styles fit those with long, proper hair. Mine case would be a big risk.

A parting, whether at the side or at the the middle might not be a good idea. The parting might go all the way to the back of my head the way my hair looks these days! That won't do much good in hiding the forehead.

A taper cut might be nice. But I don't really know. I mean, the hair at the front of my head seems to be growing at a much slower rate than any part of my head. The barber would have to be smart to taper the hair at the sides and the back and leave the ones at the top and the front. Might consider that...

A bawl cut seems rebellious, but I could work that out.

A brush cut does not seem much different from a taper or bawl cut.

A pompadour? I have to admit that does look very glamorous... almost too glamorous to maintain on a daily basis. And I really don't know how a barber would help me with this look since my hair at the front is thinner than at the mid and back sections of my head.

At this point, I really don't know what to do with my hair. I really might want to consider a taper cut. But I'm not really sure if my barber can help me do that. I mean... my hair needs to be longer than it is now for it to happen. But then, it is not that short anyway... only at the front of the M shape it has formed!

Fine, let's be honest. Coming to the UK, it is time to get rebellious. The main idea was to grow long hair, maybe perm it and put tonnes of product on it. Go blonde perhaps, not that it fits my skin tone, just for the fun of it.

And how about the idea of going bald completely? Scary, I have to admit it. But it worked wonders with Chris Daughtry. When the guy noticed he was going bald, he completely shaved off his head, to give himself a more aesthetically pleasing look. But one needs the confidence and manliness to pull off a stunt like that, something I believe I lack of. I also don't want to regret it soon and then end up wearing a wig all the time like what Britney did. Gosh...

Or maybe I can just leave my hair as it is. You know, just let nature take its toll on it while I just sit back and watch. But I'm no Prince William. The guys is such a prince charming to the ladies that they don't care about the his balding. He still looks just as charming to them as he ever was.

Now, some have flipped when I told them this. But a shaggy hairstyle, though might inappropriate for some occasions, but works magic at hiding balding. And it definitely works better than bangs. Adrian Grenier, for instance, has a quite large forehead, but he does a neat job at hiding it with his wavy natural hair. I have wavy hair... and though it never falls below my forehead, it does sound like a rock-on idea.

They say that a guy's hair is his crown. It gives you your look. It distracts attention away from your already unattractive face... something that I really use to justify my need for a better hairdo. Anyway, thanks for reading all my grumbling. Bye!

Black Birthday

This year's birthday is most definitely the most mundane of them all. Grandpa was not well and was lying sick in bed. Despite receiving a few offers to hang out together on my special day from a few friends, I had to turn them all down and go out to the city all alone.

I thought that maybe having lunch alone and perhaps watching a movie all by myself might take away all the pain I was feeling. I should have been at home with my family, sharing their grief. But what could I do? God has sent me all the way here for a purpose. That sacrifice had to be made. Still, I so wanted to be my family's side then.

Early in the morning, I had a call from mum. I didn't answer it, because I was temperamental with her for quite some time. Typical attention seeker, I am.  But also, I was still sleepy. So, I didn't bother enquiring why she had called. But as I got ready to leave for the city center, I had this bugging feeling that I should call home and see if everything was alright.

I called dad. The tone of his voice was not casual. But he promised me everything was alright. I was a little offended that he didn't even wish me happy birthday, as the wishes from my family is always most important to me. Call me selfish, but yes - despite everything going on back home, I was still thinking of me, me and me.

Then at the city, after I had treated myself to a nice, sumptuous lunch to get over everything that has been stressing me out, I headed for the cinema. Just as I bought my ticket and was hanging around as I waited for the movie to start, dad called. He told me something that just made my heart stop beating for a second or two.

Grandpa had passed away earlier that day.

I talked to mum. Oh, gosh! How I wish I was there by her side. She could hardly talk. All she could say was to pray for Grandpa. I don't know why. But my heart and mind just blanked out - like a book full of writing being erased thoroughly, word by word. Only, I was not sure if I was consciously holding the eraser or not. My feet just carried me into the cinema, where I watched the movie for an hour and a half.

As I got to the bus to return to campus, the truth just hit me. Grandpa was no more. I would miss his jokes, his laughter, his sarcasm... everything about him. Since coming here, I had hardly spoken to him. Stupid me. Stupid, effed up me. If only I had realized much earlier what was truly important....

I was never Grandpa's closest grandson. I use to get mad at him all the time as I was always the victim of his sarcastic comments. But towards the end of his life, he lived mostly as a different man then when I knew him as a child. His right hand became paralyzed, preventing him for doing most of the work he liked - like traveling on his motorcycle and tending to his farm.

The image of the strong, energetic and youthful Grandpa was almost completely wiped out from  my mind. Instead, there was the somber, sarong-wearing, bearded, lifeless old man that had replaced that. He could hardly walk from one place to another after an accident he encountered when I was seven. I remember walking him around the temple, holding his hand half-heartedly as  he often walked slowly and all I wanted to do was get away and do something esle. But despite noticing my insincerity in helping him walk, Grandpa would still hold on to me with all his might and simply smile it off, also showing his thankfullness by telling me how grateful he was that I'd take him around, and that he was sorry I was such a nunsance to him. Back then, in my heart -  my cold, black, devilish heart, I would just say to myself, "Whatever..."

Back in my room, I just let go. Sobbed all day... thinking of all those times when I could have told Grandpa that I loved him... and that I was sorry I was such a dick to him, while his love for me was genuine and unconditional.

I did not tell anyone about this. I did not need anyone's sympathy. After what I did, I deserve none. I decided to fast for a week. I told friends that a close buddy from my childhood had died, when in reality it was someone more than that.

Later that week, mum got better and she had made peace with Granpa's death. She told me my youngest aunt, who had just gotten married was on her way to Taiping from KL, but did not make it to see Grandpa. But there was that satisfaction in her that he was there for her wedding day. Another uncle from Ipoh also did not make it to see Grandpa as he could not leave his business before letting his partner know. He too, was too late. Mum also mentioned that Grandpa always spoke highly of me to his friends. I was the first of his children and grandchildren to go study abroad. He was very proud of me, and even Grandma often had to remind him that he always told the same story over and over again to the same friend.

Oh... tata...

But then, life goes on. Despite knowing a 'childhood friend' who is very close to my heart had died, a friend of mine had the audacity to tell me to choose between her and another friend of ours whom she had a big fight with. When I told her that I would never take sides as I love both of them equally, she became mad and avoided me for the next few days. Only today, I saw her sobbing dramatically over her phone. I feared the worst, that a similar tragedy had fallen upon her or something. When I text messaged her about it, all she complained  about was me not taking her side and that I had to choose from either one of us. When I said I was not taking sides, she got pissed off and did the most awful and insensitive thing a friend could do... something too horrible that I cannot even mention. Thank God I did not tell her it was my grandfather and not some friend who died, or the pain of her insensitiveness would have been even more unbearable.

But, see? I'm making it all about myself again. I should be mourning for Grandpa, not talking about some insignificant, PMS-stricken self-centered turkey. Whatever... I just wish I could have been there with mum that day.

Today, a close friend lost her grandma and she posted in on Facebook. In the spur of the moment, I told her to stay calm and that since my grandpa had recently left me too, I could relate to her situation. Perhaps some might see it as attention-seeking, but it was a mere accident.

I suppose that's life. You value someone only when  they have left you. But now I know, that I should always respect and love my loved ones while I still have the time, because they might not be around forever.

Aum... Lord please take care of Tata... and place him alongside you and the ones You love... Aum...