Budak Boy Amirrudin Kaharudin 25.8.1942 - 25.1.2022

 Wed. 26.1.2022

To the day - the 25th day of the month -  Amir sadly passed away at 4 pm yesterday, 25.1.2022, at HUKM. He was 79 years and 5 months old. Apparently he was hospitalized 2 weeks ago.

I last met Amir at the shooting range, Kuala Pilah the year before the Covid 19 Closedown - 2019. We were renewing our firearms licences.

Hank and I managed to find our way and were among the earlier arrivals at Amir's house in Kg. Jijan, Labu, this morning. We said our silent prayers before his covered remains laid in the sitting room. I met Zainab in the kitchen (and surprisingly she recognized me straight away). We were classmates in Form III, TMS 1960. I utterred my condolences, and went out as the "kereta jenazah" drove into the compound. The funeral prayers were to be at the nearby mosque at 10 that morning. I spoke to a few people, and to one of Amir's children, and to Mokhtar Yasin who had come earlier. I don't know of his connection to Amir. But Zainab is from Tanjong Ipoh, where Mokhtar is from, so that must be it.  

I'd known Amir since 1961, at FMC PD and later Sg. Besi. Because we're from KP, school and later university holidays meant we'd bump into each other in town. Amir was always with the late BB Ismail Mansor. Amir was from Kg. Parit, just outside town. Ismail was from Kepis, some distance away, towards Bahau through the Sawah Lebar road. They seemed close even then. Maybe it was not only the FMC/RMC tie (and both were SUO's), through athletics (Ismail the long jumper/Amir the pole-vaulter) and coming from little KP. There was more to it. Both were after KP girls. From their university days.

Ismail's girl Hank can attest to. Because Hank was tackling the younger sister, Cikgu Zainal's daughters. The difference was Ismail won her hands and honoured his promises to his darling; Hank didn't/ wouldn't/couldn't.  And there is Sharom Dom, a university-days pal, married to another one of Cikgu Zainal's daughters.

Amir met Zainab through Wahap Acin, another Budak Boy, my batch. That's not his official name - it's what his parents (and I) call him. Wahap was, like Zainab, a classmate in Form III. Wahap and I joined FMC PD together. Wahap is also from Kg. Parit, like Amir. One day Wahap was with Zainab, going to the movie at Rex Cinema. KP, and they bump into Amir and Ismail. Amir asked Wahap who Zainab was. "My girlfriendlah". Wahap introduced them. That's how one relationship ended, and another started. A lifelong one, it proved. But actually Wahap couldn't have carried on with Zainab. Because they found out right at the beginning that they're from the same "suku". That's a no-no in adat-bound KP.

Both Ismail and Amir became NS' State Secretaries. Being SS, they were also SIGC's Vice Presidents, and the MB, the President, being a non-golfer, meant the SS ran the show. But golf appeared a chore to Amir. Ismail played more. Both also went on to become KSU's, the top gun,  to Ministries before retirement.

We met several times over the years, Amir and I. I even visited him at the Entrepreneur Development Ministry where he was Big Boss. Napsiah, another KP product, was the Minister. Once driving on Jalan Tuanku Abdul Rahman, I stopped at the lights and a car came up beside me and somebody shouted something from inside it. It was Amir calling out to me.

I also knew Amir's two brothers, Tajuddin and Zid. Both are even bigger than Amir, both sportsmen in TMS. I never met Zid after TMS, but see Tajuddin once a while, because he's married in Bkt. Temensu or something, which is close to my parents' place.

Hank called yesterday about Amir's passing, and wasn't sure if it was genuine news. I made several calls, some promising to call back. None did. So this morning we met, intending to go for a morning walk. I came prepared, and suggested instead we make an attempt to locate Amir's place and pay our respects, even if they had buried him. Last night Nawawi had posted the confirmation of Amir's passing. Hank agreed. We both got hold of our ketayaps and agreed our clothes were acceptible, and Hank put on "waze" for "kedai makan, Kg. Jijan", and followed the voice guide. At the kedai makan when waze declared "You have arrived", I got down and asked for directions. I did this again when we stopped at another eating place as suggested by the first shop. It seems they all know him. When I mentioned this to Wahap Acin this afternoon, he said of course, Amir sat the surau everyday. 

Coming back from Kg. Jijan, Hank said to forget about "waze". He knows the way now. "Trust me", he said, when I sounded doubtful. "That's when I get worried" I said. He promptly missed the turn to Gadung, and stopped on the side road to connect waze back. But it was a morning well-spent. Not to have at least made an effort to see an old lost friend when we are quite near would have been unforgivable.

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Melaka trip - celebrating the 2022 New Year.

Sunday 2.1.2022

The two kids, Memi & Dekna, arranged for the year-end weekend in Melaka. We went with Dekna. Memi drove straight from work at about the same time, about 3 p.m., but made it to the hotel, Holiday Inn, hours ahead. Dekna's CCK 57 decided to test our patience along the way.

We decided to leave after the Friday prayers. I even skipped lunch so as not to delay the others. Eventually I had my mee goring lunch at 6.30 p.m. at a Simpang Ampat restaurant, with the stomach rumbling and the rain pouring outside. While waiting for the belated lunch to be cooked, I ran in the rain to the petrol station opposite the road to do my about to be missed Asr prayers at the surau there. Magrib and Isya' was to be ok, because Hanif calculated we had enough kilometrage to qualify for "jama' kathar".

About a kilometer from the Alor Gajah exit a loud sound and a wobbling steering told us something was wrong. Peering out of her left front window, and me from the back leftside window, we saw the culprit. The left front tyre was riding on its rim. Hanif, driving, wanted to wobble to the exiting road. Safer there, he offered. I insisted we stop immediately before the whole tyre got shredded to nothing and damaging the rim. There was space on the emergency lane to do our repairs. The hazard lights were turned on. But we know the danger of stopping, with the heavy traffic wheezing by at breakneck speed. Enough stories have been related regarding avoidable fatalities under similiar cicumstances. I jumped out into the light drizzle that gradually became a steady downpour. So did Hanif. We moved back astern to station ourselves a distance from the stopped MPV, to give space and time for the rushing drivers to avoid the emergency lane.  I took the red sejadah that was in the MPV and frentically waved it so that the movement would catch the eyes of the rushing drivers before it was to late to swerve. Hanif just waved his bare arms, him with his dark shirt. The bad weather made sight bad. There were a few close calls from the motorcyclists, as I'd feared and expected, but the lorries and other vehicles obviously saw us and the blinking hazard, and took care to keep away from the emergency lane. Both of us were soaked. 

Dekna had called for Plus assistance, and Hanif called his sister, a police inspector with her fellow policeman husband stationed in Alor Gajah. Between them, the 20 minutes promised became 1 hour, the tyre was changed to a spare and we got to the tyre-shop, repalced the damaged piece, and moved via the "Alor Gajah way" to finally reach the hotel before 9 p.m. "Waze" said when we left Seremban that we should be there by 5.10 p.m.

I heard some fireworks in the distance before hitting the hay at past midnight. The whole adventure and the 10 p.m.  dinner  made sure I fell to sleep instantaneously.

Saturday morning I cajoled the wife to get to  breakfast on 2nd floor, so we were there before the crowd. The hotel said there were 500 guests. When the rest got down to breakfast, the whole 500 showed. The fare was good and substantial, though. "Poolside" booked for 1 hour (guests took turns because of the SOP) was eagerly awaited because everybody had brought along his swimming costume.  Then off to the Saturday tour.

I just followed the kids and the obviously  overjoyed grandchildren for a full Saturday. Planned were museum visits, Jonkers' walk, boat cruise, Asam Pedas lunch and shopping. The rain, the huge crowd and parking woes cut down the itinerary. No boat cruise because, would you believe it, there was "too much water". Kg. Morten was flooded, and the "high water" was considered "unsafe". We made changes to our asam pedas lunch because some favourite shops  were either closed or jammed full. We managed to get to one, finally. Jonkers' walk part went on. The grandchildren wanted "becha" rides. I decide to go for a walk-about alone. When regrouped after about 2 hours, we were ready to go back for a rest before the  "Ikan bakar" part that night.

Ikan bakar Alai was the choice. I have no particular pick for these spots. They serve the same stuff, taste the same, and outdo each other in scalping the customers. Service was acceptible, considering the insane jostling for parking space. I suppose we have to have "ikan bakar" when in Melaka.

Sunday was checkout day. I came down very early for breakfast, alone. Last night was too much for the grandchildren. All were asleep even before reaching back to the hotel. I thought I would be the first patron at breakfast - it was only 7 a.m. No, there was already one table occupied by a huge party - not a party with huge numbers, but a table with 2 huge patrons - a huger gentleman, and a huge-r woman (must be his wife). They must have been there very early, because the hotel said breakfast starts at 6. I was only into my second menu when they got up and ambled out like 2 giants. My party still didn't show at 8, so I went back to the room. When Idah and Wafa finally stirred at at 8.30 I joined them for breakfast, again.

The plan was for the Air Keroh zoo. They said it's a good visit. Alas, the rain decided otherwise for us. So we went to Dataran Pahlawan and ended up having lunch at "Johnnies'" just like the Seremban one. Except this time a robot served us the "steamboat" raw dishes.

We broke up for the journey home, Memi and Dekna. Memi took the Plus highway via Air Keroh. Hanif took the Tanqerah - Klebang - Kuala Sg. Baru - Mesjid Tanah - Rantau Panjang - PD way. In the end, checking with Memi, we were back in Seremban ahead of Memi. He said traffic was extremely heavy. Normally post-luncheon traffic northward to KL is always very heavy. Today, the New Year Sunday, you can expect the extra congestion.

It was a nice weekend for me. Only 2 of my 4 kids were involved, but the other 2 have their own busy agendas. It was not cheap, I learned. But the grandchildren were happy. Very tired, but very happy.

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