Lost Entry: A Book Launch, A Wedding & A Funeral

I actually wrote a really long post last week, reminiscing an old school friend who had passed away, but by mistake clicked the wrong button and lost the whole thing. Drat.

My friend was 30 years old. I remember her as someone very tall, lanky, sporty, gregarious and generally lots of fun with a sharp mind. We were in the same English debating team back then, and represented the school in 1991 and 1992. In the second year, when my friend was in Form Five, we won the coveted Prime Minister's Trophy (PPM), a debating competition among government boarding schools. I remember how, when the results were announced, she punched the air and gave me a big hug, then when we stood up to take our bow we all couldn't help but went for another group hug. We were almost jumping about while our supporters in the audience cheered and clapped and sang the school song at the top of their voices. I won again the next year without her, and my sister, who was also in the 1992 team, made it four in a row (five, if you count the team she coached after leaving school in 1996). But nothing beat the feeling of winning it the first time with Ida.

Even back in 1991, when we were knocked out (unjustly, we felt) in the early rounds, we had a lot of fun at the competition that year in SMS Machang. There were more than 30 schools taking part, each with a Malay debating team, English team and basketball team with matches going on every day. We would all spend about a week in the host school, and the atmosphere was festive (It wasn't called Pesta PPM) for nothing. There were six of us in the team, and we always walked about in a group, laughing and joking, or going for a quick meal at the gerai makan that were set up in the school grounds. Even the week preceding the competition, when we were supposedly holed up in school during the holidays to prepare for the competition, we spent our free time cooking mini-sausages on Jan's sandwich maker, and making prank calls to people we hardly knew. One of our victims, a guy called Rick, got so mad at us that he started swearing and cursing. He earned the nickname Rico Perverto, an adaptation of Rico Suave, a Spanglish one-hit-wonder from Gerardo.

When I left for the UK to do my A-Levels, I would sometimes bump into Ida there. She seemed less gregarious, but then so was I, and we didn't quite manage to spend long enough time together to do all the stuff we used to get up to back in school. The last time I saw Ida was at KLCC some years back, when we had both started working. She left for the Hague shortly after that chance meeting.

Ida was suffering from MCTD. I read about Ida's condition a few weeks ago through an e-mail that was forwarded from another senior in her year. By that time, she was in ICU, and her friends were planning to hold a doa selamat for her on Saturday 17th. On the same day I was to attend a wedding and the launching of Mercy Malaysia's coffeetable book on their tsunami relief efforts. I decided to give the doa selamat a miss.

Friday 16th, at about 9.30 pm Ida passed away. I received several SMS, and one friend offered a ride to the funeral the next day. When we arrived at her house, it was packed with friends and family. There were a lot of familiar faces that I hadn't seen for more than 10 years. Ida's body was laid down in the front section, covered in a long batik lepas. We sat down to recite the Yasin, and at some parts I had to stop and take deep breaths as tears threatened to unsettle me. An ustazah then arrived to lead the tahlil, afterwards the men and some ladies performed the funeral prayers. By that time the van had arrived to take her to her final resting place, and it had started to rain again. I stayed back, waiting for my husband to pick me up for our next appointment of the day.

People who had met her in this last year said she'd become very thin and gaunt. I can't say for sure as I was unable to get a last look at her face, and I will always remember her as the vivacious 16 year old back in school.

Rest in peace Ida, may Allah bless you.