One Love Made in Medina

28 May 2009 1 Comment

by TLT in Pink

Here is something pink. Something not password-protected.

I am a grown-up child of a happy family. My mother and my father have been happily married for 42 years now. Ironically Mak and Ayah are both children of broken marriages. Both are first-born too.

When I say happy I do not mean that they are happy all the time. Remember Dr Maxwell Maltz’s adopted definition of happiness : happiness is a state of mind in which our thinking is pleasant a good share of the time. There were ups and downs I am sure, like in any other marriages. But they have enjoyed 42 years in each other’s company. Hmmm…

In the case of my mother, my grandmother Tok Tijah Bukit Besar (we have to tag her such because we have two Tok Tijahs, so have to tell which one from the other) married beneath her. A divorce soon followed  right after my mother was born.  Tok Tijah’s family wanted my mother but my grandfather Tok Wan Chen (his name was Hashim) finally won my mother.

In the case of my father I always suspected that it was my grandfather Tok Wan Bakar’s temperament that split Tok Wan and Tok Tijah (Tok Tijah Singkir, that is) apart. Tok Wan Bakar was known to have such a terrible temper. In the midst of his wrath he could throw a dish of good food to waste, to the ground. From Tok Tijah’s own lips I heard that Tok Wan Bakar passed the message of talak through her father when she was still in confinement after giving birth to Ayah. How sad. This pink shade is turning into blue now…. Let’s move on. See, we cannot be judgemental here. Don’t over-analyze. We should hear both sides.

Perhaps because of the painful life as a child once raised by a single parent, both my mother and my father appreciate married life better. Surely along the way they found wisdom in giving and taking, in forgiving and forgetting, in accommodating each other’s faults and flaws, and in a lot lot more things than I can discern.

Despite all that, Mak and Ayah have always treated their parents with affection and respect. Again, only happy people are capable of this. I still remember every Hari Raya Second Day we had to pay visit to all four sets of Tok Wans and Toks in one day. Four sets ? Because all of them remarried after the divorces.

Another interesting thing here. My mother and my father were childhood neighbours. Their houses were next to each other. Perhaps Ayah had had a good peep on Mak when Mak went to give drink to her cows or went milking the cows near the mengkuang swamp. Perhaps he was looking from the chinese cemetery on the hillock, from between the tombstones. I can almost envision that in my mind. Tok Tijah had preferred a girl from Hampar (I presume Batu Hampar, near Merbok) for Ayah, but Ayah was adamant it was Mak whom he wanted to marry. How sweet ! To know what or whom you want ! How courageous, to go against your parents’ wish and uphold what your heart desires !

Once Mak lost her way when in Madinah. She lost her group and confused the way back to their rented apartments when she and her group went to pray Zuhur prayers at the Prophet’s Mosque. The apartments were only within walking distance.

Then she confused which door of the Mosque she came in from.

Then she confused which side of the Mosque she came in from.

There were so many people. Imagine the crowd during pilgrimage time.

My mother’s only hope was the small bright green sling bag that the group members were required to put on them all the time they were out of the apartments. I shudder at the thought of losing my mother that way. My mother had never been anywhere far on her own.

She found a post office in the vicinity but nobody there could help her. She had no Arabic, nor English. She showed them the address of the apartment but they did not know where it was. Or they just couldn’t be bothered. So not knowing what else to do, she went back to the Mosque, performed her Asar prayer and stayed put near an entrance.

When her group realised that my mother went missing, they told my father. So my father went alone to look for her. Ayah circled the Mosque three times. And still he could not find Mak. And guess what. Mak finally spotted his green sling bag, and then him, in the sea of people ! And they were reunited.

Now were they not made for each other…

Just a few years back, my mother discovered this enterpreneurial trait in her. She started to sew baju kurungs for friends for minimal charges. As she progressed, she discovered market for telekungs. She has been sewing telekungs since.

My father then bought her a heavy-duty sewing machine and said something like this

“nanti bila aku dah tak dak hangpa menjaitlah”

So my father has started to plan how it would be like should my mother survive him.

That is a husband through and through…