4/12/12 HIS HEART BROKEN AND WHAT WOULD BE MINE?....

I met him about a year plus ago. It was in one of my long searching journey. That was when I was having my dinner at one of a fine restaurant at a tourist prime area in Bangkok, Thailand. He sat opposite of my table. He was alone. So was I. His face was thin. His body was skinny. In torn jean and wrinkling T-shirt. His hair were straight but not well attended. Everything about him was in a mess. He seem to be one of those Bangkok back alleys drug addict. But I was shocked when he greeted me: Assalamualaikum. Surely you is a Malaysian, a Muslim? A Malay?". I replied his salam and node to agreed with his guess. Without being invited, he then comfortably joined me at my table. We spoke. He was a Malay. His speeches tremble deep in his throat. I hardly could catch what he said.

(2) My sympathetic instinct invited him to my room. He took bath. He really cleaned up. He changed to another jean and T-shirt, which also didn't look good, dirty in fact. I called for a laundry service, and requested for fast dry cleaning. I passed him my T-shirt and sarong. He then fallen flat snoring heavily the whole night. A miserable night long for me, but, then what should I do? He never asked for any help, just my simple thought had took him to my room. But then I didn't know when did I closed my eyes. A deep cry woke me up. A man, a skinny one, was in deep cried next to me. I though I was having a nightmare. No, it was a true man crying deeply. His voice was so deep hidden in his chest that made him look so tense. It was two in the morning. I shoke his shoulder. "Hey, what happen? Say the sahadah. Say the Istifar. Say the Tasbih." I suggested to cool him down. He then turned silent. Real silent. Fallen back to his pillow. Laying on his side. Staring at me in deep emptiness. God. What should I do? I said my Tahajjud. I asked for Allah guidance on how to handle the situation. Then I called for two glasses of warm fresh milk. I made him drank one, while the other is for myself. "Empty your mind, just go back to sleep. InsyaAllah tomorrow we will talk" I told him, making him look like a small kid. He slept whole through, comfortably.

(3) The next day, after changing to his clean jean and T-shirt, we talked while having late breakfast. He really ate a lot. I made him drank a glass of honey juice and took lots of green vegetables and colored fruits. Professionally he was a successful person. He owned an Automotive Company in Petaling Jaya, dealing in all those luxury cars. Having good income. Enjoying great simple life. Very generous to his society. Always extending his hands to the needy. But he has no family. Remained single to this day at the age of 45. A year ago, he met a lady that he was deadly in love with. He thought, that's it. He really want to have a great family. The lady was his best discovery-encounter. But the lady was not willing to have a person as too successful as him. She has a feeling that a person like him would easily cheat onto her. She was beautiful. He shown me her photo. Tall. Nice productive body built. Long dark curly hair. Fair skin. Pointed nose. Great lips. Long neck. Deep dark eyes. A Pakistani breed. Highly educated. Being a bit independent. Workin in a corporate world. But, she was a very different Kuala Lumpur's girl. She just wanted a moderately well to do but with strongly religious attachment spouse. Sound typical Posthun tribe of Pakistani. The Aghan related most probably. Due to his deadly love, he sold his Company, and really go after the lady. He dreamed to dedicate his life to his family, a noble mature thought, I believe. He donated most of his saving for charity especially to those Acheh Tsunami victims. He bought a land in Sungai Ramal, Kajang. Built himself a just decent BaliHomeStyle resident, with nice garden and playground. His dream was to be with the lady, his future family, as if living in on earth-heaven.

(4) His dream shattered into pieces. The lady who was in her 22 years old, thought he was too old. Her friends and relatives may look down at her marrying a person of his daddy generation. Worst he was not a Pakistani breed. God. He had worked hard to turned religious. He sacrificed to make himself poor. How could now he could make himself 10-15 years younger or implant the Pakistani gene into his physic instead of his Pattani-Rhiau origin? He begged the lady for mercy. Begging to relief him from those impossible two traits, and he was willing to do anything other than that. A no go bargain. He was desperate. He begged. He cried. He really submitted himself. He was ignored. The communication was cut down. The lady totally refused to have any opening. He collapsed. Loneliness fort built into his life. He began to stayed in isolation. He went to God. No answer. He then accused the lady as bitch. He challenged God for being cruel. He want to walk out of Islam. He even want to end his life. But the bars, the alcohols, the drugs, and the girls save his soul. He took revenge of himself. Sometimes he brutalised the girls. In once incident, he was almost smashed to death for taking a girl too rough. In fact, in the past, he just worked to earn a good living. He never enjoy life. His life was his work, and his works was his life, to the extend he never not to missed his daily prays, fasting, or whatsoever Allah want his favor. Islam was so thin in his heart. Kuala Lumpur was then too hot for him. Kuala Lumpur turned to be his burning field. He boarded the buses. He hope from one bus to another. That made him landed in Bangkok for the last six months at time I met him. Women, drugs, and alcohol became his best friends. He lost his dignity. His human value has passed him far.

(5) I deferred my further up to Laos travel for three days. We spent lots of times roaming the streets of Bangkok, day and into the late night together. We did lots of stupid kid's fun. Walking, singing, jumping, eating, taking ice cream, chasing after the Totot. We buy lots of fruits, ate most of them and sharing with those streets boys and girls. We did all sort of things that could make us laugh a lots. Slowly I built back his confident to live forever. I took him to all those back alleys along the Bangkok Klongs, meeting the poor, the homeless, the kids prostitutes, the disadvantage Muslim communities, the street boxers, all those the colorful Bangkok lives. My 1992 three months course in Bangkok gave me good understanding of this fleshy city. On the fourth day, I took him to the airport to let him back to Kuala Lumpur. I requested him, as a matter of great debt, he must see me in KLIA about three weeks later. I just need to be alone to travel north to have a much personal encounter with the Cham community in Laos, Chambodia and Vietnam.

(6) We never met then. He was far in Perlis when I landed from Phnom Penh. I took off straight to Kuching, and later registered myself for surgery at Normal Medical Center about a month later. I recovered well from my ailment, and I only made known to him upon my discharged. Two days after my discharged he flew into Kuching to spent few days with me. That was Nov., 2011. His health don't gain much. He remained skinny. I believe he don't bother anymore about himself. His sadness, frustration and probably hatred had made his adrenalin level constantly high. He is in the stage of self destruction. But he was no more that dirty person. He turned much religious. But he spoke less. Hardly speaking in fact. His smile was never sweet, senseless in fact. "I can't forget this lady. In my prays, she was always there. Her image seem to replaced God in all my prays. She is present in all of my movement. I simply can't get my mind not even a minute out of her. I don't know why I'm this damn crazy of her yet she never have a heart of me?" he grumbled to me.

(7) Last few weeks, I have to frequently visiting and spending time with him. He was hospitalised. He got stroke. He got high blood pressure. His kidney also was not functioning well. A three-in-one health hazard. His breath smell horrible. He simply refused to eat. He vomited whatever being pushed into his throat. He was on serious drips. To me he had denied himself of these lives. He just want to leave these lives. He never want to speak. He just stay still as rock anchored hard to earth.  And now, I'm the one whom need to pray hard for him. His image, his stories, his shattered love filled up my mind. His broken heart made him an idiot, and my heart fill with deep sorrow and regret. May Allah listen to my pray for him, myself and all those alike:"Lailla Halila Subhannaka Inni Kuntu Minaz Zolimin"

Kuching-Kuala Lumpur
10 Dec., 2012