Bismillahirrahmanirrahim..Assalamualaikum warahmatullahi wabarakatuh..
Guys, have you been in a moment in your life, which you feel your presence is insignificant to everyone, including to your families, your peers, your love? The feeling inside is so hollow and you suddenly choked to a terrible fear: the second death..
To die and forgotten..
To remain insignificant..
Believe me, the feeling haunted me from the first day I was born.
The feeling that everyone detested you, flinched when see your tiny body squirming between the jocks and the perfects.
The feeling that everyone use you as a mere tool. Your friends use you whenever they need a nerd to solve their complicated essays on Biology. The girl you took fond of was toying you around, amused of your devotion towards her beauty. And, you always know that she's just jesting you around, but you simply can't resist her seduction.
That hopeless feeling.
The grotesque feeling your family raised you as an investment, feeding you so you can pay them back when they are at their deathbeds.
Believe me, I experienced all stated above. The world has been damn cruel to me. But, this one person. Among the millions,
she was the one. Who was never looked me as a introvert nerd, helpless boyfriend or an investment item.
She's the one.
Now, picture in your mind, a women around 150 cm, with a stainless steel cane at her left hand. Her right hand was always at a very queer angle, and it never moved. And, please don't miss the details of her face; lined with age marks but still her smile reflects such pure and genuine aura that made you want to burst into tears when seeing her smiling. She was my grandmother, which we called her Wan. And she was impaired due to a severe stroke.
The world and its population has done many sins to me. But enough of narrating their sins towards me. Now, I wan to recount to all of you my sins towards this person which changed my life. How cruel the world it is. It made me blind to the only source of love for me and when the scaffold was unbind, it took her away from me. Devastated. Annihilated. Down to the deepest abyss, I was. I am sorry, Wan....

You see, I was not born with a silver spoon in my mouth. I was the eldest, and my parents found it was very difficult to divide their commitments between raising a baby and their piles of work. So, they sent me to my grandmother, who lived in the suburbs of Ampang. I didn't blame they,tough. The world made my parents to do so.
I was educated in a Chinese kindergarden. One day, I descended from the yellow bus in front of my grandmother's house and my Wan was on a chair, probably cleaning the webs on the ceiling. She was smiling broadly, but suddenly she was in a state of imbalance and toppled from the chair. I was a small boy, horrified of the accident. I hurried to her, who seemed to be unconscious. But, I am unable to help her, no matter how I pulled her stunned hand, she wouldn't budge. I hoped I can get help faster on that day. Because I will never saw her walking like anybody else since that forsaken day. She was diagnosed of a half-body stroke.
I am sorry, Wan...
At the age of 7, I was enrolled to a school. My grandmother seemed to overfeed me, as I was a "bit" plump in those days. As expected, the kids didn't love "round and cute boys" as my grandmother did. I was ostracized. The boys would kick me in the stomach or smear dirt on my shirt, without any solid excuses. I would return home with my shirt all dirty, and that was the only shirt I have. My grandmother would brushed the sands away gently with her tears streaming. I was helpless to stop the stream. How helpless I was. By letting my only love cried. I simply can't. I was scared. Of what? Of the oncoming world..
I am sorry, Wan...
I survived the primary realm, and was quite relieved. Secondary school, seemed cool. New friends, new environment, new subjects, new experience. I stepped to a school in Kuala Lumpur with a broad smile. And I cursed, that day when I thought things will get better.
You know, when we were in the teenage years, and the Biology teachers said that our body would be in a state of hormonal imbalance, causing depression, anxiety and sometimes violence. Dear teacher, I think that the hormones in my body were in a state of craziness, because I experienced more than that. I was still a plump boy, and the girls would chuckle whenever they saw my round tummy, my gigantic glasses, or my baggy pants. The seniors seemed to think that I was predestined to become their slave. And, I obeyed them as my liege. The Devil was unleashed. Eager to prove that I was not a nerd, I involved in racial fights, smoking, truantcy. My dear grandmother didn't know of this, you know. But still, she can sense that violent radiance in my eyes. She would ask," Oh Along, how fast you have changed!". Then, I would bit my lips and walked away from her.
I am sorry, Wan...
One day, when she delivered me to my hostel by taxi, and when I exited the cab, she took my hand, and

looked me straight in my eyes. Her eyes were full of sorrow, like they were made from pools of disappointments and desolate sighs. Half whispering, she said to me," No more bickering. Focus on your study, Along". I forced my hand from her, and walked away from her. That week, I involved in two fights and smoked more cigarettes, and found my new passion to the Dunlop shoe glue. At the end of the week, she died due to heart attack and stroke. And, the last thing on world I had done to her is a scowl and a curse.
I am sorry, Wan.....
Some people say, that we have only one true love in this world, and I think that I have lost mine. I swear to Allah, how I missed her warm smiles, our conversation in the night. I was scared of sleeping alone, so I will climbed to her bed and start a conversation, as I thought that ghouls were scared of my Wan's voice. And, sometimes I talked too much, and she was drowsy. Then, she would stroke my head gently until I was fall asleep and no ghouls can ever grabbed that tranquility and protections she had given to me. And, now my night was restless and agonizing..
I am sorry, Wan...
There are days, she was teasing me and said,"Along, one day I would like to cradle your sons and daughters in my arm just like I cradled you from the first day you was born". Since then, I thought she was a deity, and immortal. How foolish I was.
I am sorry, Wan....
She was poor. She has only a couple of shirts.But, she has one brown baju kurung, which was the only one she had in her possession. And, I would cry whenever she wore that special outfit. I once asked her, why she never ask for help from her sons and daughters, she would smile and said," I don't wan't when I am gone, they would be bickering on who should get the largest portion of the inheritance". Don't get me wrong, my uncles and aunts are good chaps, but my Wan simply can't take the risk. She could request for riches but she embraced poverty instead. Yet, she would never take herself as a beggar. She has thought me that money was not the essence. But, now..I endavoured to find money to fund my study. I have forgotten her principles and become a materialistic person..
I am sorry, Wan...
Guys, our loved ones are humans. They did not live forever. Only Allah lives forever. Treasure the times you had with them. Embrace them. Hug them. Say to them that you love them.
I was standing beside her grave, and saw a close relatives of her was sobbing. I approached her and asked,
"Aunty, why are you crying?".
She answered," I loved her.".
Then I said," Have you ever said to her that you love her?"
She said between her sobs," I
almost said it once".
Look, before they go, say to them that you love them...I am sorry, Wan..