..no matter what age you are, you know your time on this earth is limited..but you don't think about it..as a kid you were busy with school or whatever that kids are busy with..as a youth you were busy with your pimples and angsts to even think about it..you heard it happening to others, but your time, then, was forever, as was with every promises that you made.. with every girl that caught your your fancy then...you looked to the horizon and saw eternity..for a lifetime, then, was forever..
..until you are sixty-five..then you realised that death is just around the corner..it can come anytime..as it did to your neighbour who was stricken with a stroke weeks ago..he was 62..or to that grand old lady across the road, just a few days later..she was 70..or that Pak Haji a few houses away, who died a week after her, also 70, or thereabout..and we had tahlil almost everynight..and pakmat helped tended to the deceases, layering them in white, and soft muff of cotton..before the solat jenazah, a final prayer before the burial..and even as I amin'ed the doa, I wondered when will my turn be..and tried to imagine that it was me that lay prostrated, bounded in white..
..tears and grief will be short..a final kiss to the forehead, before it is covered..but they have to leave me there..within the soft earth that covered my breast..an old record that can no longer be played..
..the past, holding the future..
..at sixty-five, you do not looked to the future..for you are the future..each new day is a bonus..as every morning I looked to the eastern sky and welcomed the sun..Lord, let the power of your Mercy be like the sun's rays..unrestrained...
..sunrise in Irama..
..no, 'I will not brood the time I have left..I will just type faster'..