Leave me a note when you go...
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| My late mother in the green dress I had chosen for her as a kid. I remember it fondly how we used to walk along the pathways of Masjid India, Kuala Lumpur. Today, she is gone, and so has the shop. |
This one goes to my dearest loved ones...
I had a lot of people coming in and out of the house, but only some of them actually cared about me... I cry, realising I only had a handful of them, and only a few of them are left today, while Tok Jis (Aziz Sattar), Uncle Zaibo, Pak Yong (Marzuki @ Jamil Baki), and my mother are all gone. I have no more of their funny jokes to brighten up my gloomy days, nor their laps to lay my head down.
Long gone are their presence and presents... but the memories live on.
"Deem, bagi atok kopi satu cup!" - Tok Jis.
I remember that often when I drink a cup of coffee with crakers on the side.
To my remaining loved ones, my father figures, and especially to my biological father... I still love you, albeit the years of never having you with me.
If you should leave before me,
Leave me a note when you go...
It could be a message, a call, a mail...
A messenger sent on your behalf to let me know that you are gone...
A sign as your soul departs, make a move of what would mark that you are indeed present, though not through my eyes...
Anything, anything at all...
So that I could let these tears down for once, and cry not over the past, but smile over your peaceful journey to a new home.
I need no ashes, no hair, no valuables, nor a dime...
For I have enough of you in my heart and on my mind to last this lifetime,
A time that only God knows I how much I have left to live in it.
Perhaps a kiss is too much to ask.
Maybe a hug is too big to be considered, and a hold of a hand is possibly too far to be reached.
But, conceivably... a visit once you're free isn't that far to be fetched.
I'd wait here in patience under the full silver moon to feel that touch I long for,
Alas... I have no view to see you with my eyes.
But my heart will always see the best in you.
Specially written for my fathers...
Baba, Papa, Ayan, Dada, Ayah, Ayah Wahid, and Uncle Martin
- Qadeem Shaher Zieman Dastagir
