I was having my coffee in the morning when my father broke the silence, "Do you wanna follow me to Kuala Pilah (my father's hometown in the neighbouring state of Negri Sembilan)?" I paused, I looked to the ceiling, I look at my auntie, I checked my watch, I glanced at my brother, then finally I figured, what the heck... "Sure. What time do you wanna leave?"
The following pictures are some that I manage to snap during our trip.
|Coming into the small hamlet of Kuala Pilah we were suddenly assaulted by|
a pouring torrential storm. As you can see, my windscreen wipers were in
freak-mode to keep the screen clear for me to see amidst all the rain.
|While my father was examining the dead and burnt fish, poultry and cow, I wandered down|
the road a little and saw a small cemetery on a hillock. Happily, my father wanted to
rest for awhile and we sat at a coffee house across the road.
|I took leave of my father and wandered through the old stone graveheads. This one|
was buried in 1955. But it is quite clear that some of the graves are much older, with
many slowly sinking into the gentle embrace of the Earth.
|In this grave sanctum were buried three children, perhaps no more than|
Which brings me to an interesting facet of today's journey. Through out the trip, my father would point out to a government clinic, saying something like, "This was just a dispensary. I built the clinic here, and now they even have a full-time dentist." Or later nearer to town, he would comment on a large district hospital, "I chose the location for this hospital, because the previous one was too narrow and small." In fact throughout the entire country, my father's invisible hand is evident in many, many dispensaries, district clinics, dental clinics, nurses training colleges, maternity homes and general hospitals all through the 13 states. He was once the director general of MinHealth, you see. It makes me think how he helped lower the mortality rate among infants in my country. And because of that, there are hardly any new baby graves in the cemetery of Kubang Rusa-Pelangai. My father has come along way from the poor little kampung boy living in the small village of Juasih, Kuala Pilah.
People sometimes complain that my father is unapproachable and has limited social vocabulary. Even I complain sometimes... But I must admit this - what is sociability compared to saving babies?
Hope you had a wonderful Sunday, sunshine. I did.
wa min Allah at-taufiq
Hate has no place in Islam
Love will show the Way