Don't give in

My grandpa's been gone for nearly 2 weeks now, and his absence has probably taught me more than what I've learnt and what I always thought I've known in all the 20 years of my life. Its intriguing how death can change so much, how it evokes so much pain, anger, emotion, regret, contemplation, acceptance, blame, grief once again, worry, fear and a great deal of reflection on where our life is headed. A bitter reminder on how life is full of uncertainties, and how death is a very real ordeal, something everyone will experience, and something that will change your life when its a loved one that you lose. This is perhaps the first major loss my family has experienced, a man of great character who stood through the odds, always putting his family first, even if it meant having to sacrifice his wants and needs. A man, who for me, filled the void left by my father, and who will remain as far as I'm concerned the only father figure in my life. I can't say I have recovered from this loss, who knows, I doubt I ever will. Yet, I'm grateful that I 've got this chance to grow up with the love of my grandparents, who've always made me feel like something special, someone worth loving and cherishing. I've been always treated like the little princess in their life, from the royal treatment in the mornngs when my grandpa would rush tp wake up in the morning to make milo for me and spread jam or butter on the bread which I would wolf down before rushing to school. My grandpa will stay awake till I leave home, even up till the first sem of my first year in NUS. If it wasn't my grandpa, it'll be my grandma. Till today, my grandma does the same thing. EVerytime I leave for school, she will rush with the greatest sense of urgency to prepare breakfast or lunch for me, and if I happen to have an exam to sit for the same day, she'll rush to pour me a glass of Zamzam water (holy water) and read me some prayer before I leave for school. The night before every exam, she'll accompany me through the night, most of the times giving me a back, head and shoulder massage to ease my tension. I am thankful, beyond words for my grandparents, for having had this chance to live with them for nearly everday of my life, for having experienced this strong bond and love only grandchildren have with grandparents. I am so lucky. Nevermind the fact that y parents are divorced, my grandparents more than make up for the loss I never quite felt. =) Thanks Allah.


I guess it must be boring reading again and again about how I am still trying to get over my grandfather, but he's just so precious, I can't begin to find the right words to describe this loss. My grandpa's passing has been my first exposure to death and its life-changing effect. Everytime I think of my grandpa and of the many memories of him that I hold close to my heart and start crying, I tell Allah how I dont think I can take the pain of another death, how its bound to tear me apart. Yet, I do know it will come, perhaps the next time for my grandma, but how and when I don't want to think. I don't want to imagine. I was re-reading my recent entries and there was one where I was describing my day with my grandparents where they found the slogan on my t-shirt funny, " Trust me, I am a girl" and how I ended that entry with thoughts of how I would feel when I do re-read that entry sometime in the fduture should my grandparents cease to be around, and how today when that is the reality, I hate myself for saying what I said, cos it always turns out the same exact way I though it would, only this time I'm feeling it for real, and not just imagining how I'd feel it should it happen, and when it happens.


Life. Death. Both life-changing in their own right. Somehow, death has become more than a rare occurence now, everywhere I go, I receive news of death, The national dragon boaters, my friend's friend's sister, my granduncle, my grandpa, some other blogger's grandma. Death is suddenly on the rise, and the high frequency of its occurence, is a painful reminder of how our life too, is numbered, maybe in years, months, days or even hours. Young, old, we all have to go someday. My grandpa used to say this, " There is no difference between the lavatory and the cemetery, when you have to go, you have to go". Hahaha, see la , he still amuses me. I love you grandpa. I hope you're okay. I really hope to see you in Heaven someday. Inshaallah.





Anyway I logged on to blogger with a very different topic in mind, about this novel Kai lent me today, about this Pakistani woman who fell victim to the unfair, grossly unethical and atrocious way of living of the old villages in Pakistan where the rich have the upper hand in deciding what is right and wrong, where they take the law into their own hands, often deciding to take out their vengeance and establish their sense of superiority by taking it out on the poorer and innocent women who had nothing to do with the problem, and whose only fault lied in the fact that they are related to the accused man. It sucks. This account, 'In the name of Honour' is the true account of the struggle of a peasant woman, Mukhtar Mai who was gang raped after the richer men wrongly accused her 12 year old brother of 'raping' their 20 year old sister. Their way of meting out justice? They, ( a group of 4 men) gang raped her on the cold hard floor of a stable, before throwing her out half naked to the stares and jeering of the merciless and heartless villagers. I just couldn't continue reading. Everytime I think of what she must have felt, how she must have begged, pleaded resisted, cried, prayed, all to no avail, how they made her feel cheap, dirty all because she is a woman, I feel so sad, angered. Yet, what is it that I can do? Ya Allah, this world is so full of pain. People can be so evil. I'm so fortunate to be born in a prosperous city where equality exists for the most part especially towards gender rights. I don't know what to say la. I mean thank God, this lady, Mukhtar Mai didnt' succumb toher initial suicide thoughts, and instead chose to channel all that sadness and emotional pain towards finding a renewed course of action that seeks to better the lives of other Pakistani women. She fought back, bringing light to the very real challenge and inequality that women around the World face, and making the World take notice for once. She has received funding and has managed to set up a school for girls, doing what she can to rival illiteracy, inequality and poverty in her region. It is heroes like Mukhtar who manage to find the courage and determination within themselves even after such tragic fates, that give me a renewed belief and hope for a better tomorrow. Let us all pray for those who have left us, those who aren't as fortunate as us, so that they are able to garner enough strength to overcome thier targic fates and make a difference to this World. I have decided to join the Asian Women Welfare Association (AWWA) soon, Inshaallah. Fight women, fight. Equality is our right, not a privilege as many deem it to be. Let those ignorant bastards understand that.