…… was someone that Santa can’t put under the Christmas tree. Not that we have one this year anyway.

So, throughout this holiday month, I kept myself occupied by …..

…. making a visit to Genting College to collect brother’s belongings, and naturally, to the casino  Anyone who hasn’t taken a ride on the skyrail on a windy rainy night should do this at least once in their life, and remember to look into those empty cable cars on the opposite direction. See how nervous Teng was.*lol*

…. cooking. Experimented in the kitchen with leftover dough for pan mee / mee hun keh (in hokkien) and came up with sambal fried ‘mee hun keh’ with dried shrimps and cencalok. Taste was ok but the dough was a lil uncooked at some parts. At least it managed to make dad smile, for a while.

….. more cooking.

…. baking.

….. and more baking.

‘Guo Tong’ was uneventful and sombre. But we made some ‘tong yuin’, thanks to aunty Leeann who gave us some dough. So after dinner, June and I quickly rolled some red, green, yellow, orange and big white ones with peanuts. Don’t think mom and dad felt the significance of ‘guo tong’ when they are still mourning the death of their son.

June and Danielle made cute little gingerbread family with snowman and xmas tree.

So, all in all, I spent most of the month hibernating indoor until Teng, Alan and Steph coerced me to go OouUT for a Christmas dinner at Tony Romas. We ended the night at the Apartment and became cam whores.

A shoutout to my lovely sister who turned 16 today. Brother and  I had initially planned to throw her a sweet sixteen birthday party. I suggested ‘under the sea’ theme, but June wanted a purple-coloured theme. But due to recent unfortunate event, there won’t be any big bang celebration with fanciful feathers, cotton candy or party princess poppers. Just a simple dinner and cupcakes that I made yesterday for her birthday.

Rich chocolate cupcake with orange marmalade cream cheese frosting, which melted during my 2-hour journey from KL to PD with 2 stops in between to run some errands, and had a ‘tumble’ during a sudden emergency break avoiding a herd of cows crossing the road in Tanah Merah. SWEET SIXTEEN became SWEET I TEEN.  *sigh* But everyone loved the taste so I guess that’s what matters.

I wish you were here with us, Tian Leng.

Kwek posted a song by Dream Theater entitled The Spirit Carries On in Tian Leng’s tribute blog. This is one of the most beautiful song I’ve ever heard. It reminded me of a conversation which my brother had with our aunt some time ago.

He told her about a book he read, titled 23 Minutes in Hell by Bill Wiese and he said, “it scared the hell out of me!”

Tian Leng once told me, “I think how a person dies has to do with how he lived his life.”

“Do you notice that nice people alwiz die first?” he asked me.

“But they don’t suffer. Maybe just for a short while-la. But they don’t suffer,” he continued.  “See, like Galvin’s father. Nice man wat. Dunno why so fast.”

“But those bad people ah…sure suffer damn long one. Or they live but cacat-ed u know….. I think God is fair.”

Sometimes this goofy boy will just surprise you with deep conversations like this.

I know you’re in a much better place now. At least, you didn’t suffer for long too. God has better plans for you. The Spirit carries on….

Where did we come from?
Why are we here?
Where do we go when we die?
What lies beyond
And what lay before?
Is anything certain in life?

They say, life is too short,
The here and the now
And you’re only given one shot
But could there be more,
Have I lived before,
Or could this be all that we’ve got?

If I die tomorrow
I’d be allright
Because I believe
That after we’re gone
The spirit carries on

I used to be frightened of dying
I used to think death was the end
But that was before
I’m not scared anymore
I know that my soul will transcend

I may never find all the answers
I may never understand why
I may never prove
What I know to be true
But I know that I still have to try

If I die tomorrow
I’d be allright
Because I believe
That after we’re gone
The spirit carries on

Move on, be brave
Don’t weep at my grave
Because I am no longer here
But please never let
Your memory of me disappear

Safe in the light that surrounds me
Free of the fear and the pain
My questioning mind
Has helped me to find
The meaning in my life again
Victoria is real
I finally feel
At peace with the girl in my dreams
And now that I’m here
It’s perfectly clear
I found out what all of this means

If I die tomorrow
I’d be allright
Because I believe
That after we’re gone
The spirit carries on

Life goes on. We shan’t cry anymore. We’ll meet again.

Today is the 12^th day since my brother’s passing. Two Fridays ago was the day he fell 3 storeys down from his room in college. He was 21 years old. Yesterday, I took a drive up to GIIC to collect my brother’s belongings. I walked around the premise and went to the site where he fell. It had been raining cats and dogs for the past two weeks. The weather was cold and damp. Pretty much like my feelings now. When I looked up at his room window, I wondered if he had flashbacks of his life flashed before him as he fell. I wondered if he had any time to think at all. I wondered if he felt pain. I wondered if the pain was so severe he passed out and felt nothing.

My brother’s demise shocked many. It’s ironic - that it takes death to teach us about living. He thoroughly enjoyed his course in college, with plans and dreams that will never be realised. 

Tian Leng in college

I’ve learnt that the people you care about in life are taken away too soon. 

I’ve learnt that when someone close to you dies, the world doesn’t stop to let you grieve. There are still bills to pay, cheques to clear, businesses to run, deadlines to meet and stocks to deliver.  

I’ve learnt that it takes death to realise the importance of people in your lives. 

I’ve learnt that no matter how strong, fit and healthy a person is, there is always a power greater than all your abilities combined.  

I’ve learnt that its the imperfections of a person that makes him beautiful. 

I’ve learnt that there are never too many “I love you’s” that one can say to a person because when it’s too late, the regrets will haunt you for the rest of your life.

I’ve learnt the meaning of planning ahead but living for today, because life is too short and unpredictable for us to take for granted that tomorrow will come.

I’ve learnt that when something bad happens, there will be a million and one “what if …. “ that could have been done to rectify the situation.  

I’ve learnt that death brings families closer together.

I’ve learnt that people like to talk about the dead. It is unfair how stories get twisted and the dead is not there to defend himself or tell his side of the story.

I’ve learnt … and politicians ought to learn from my brother and his friends, the true meaning of ‘brotherhood’. I don’t think that when I die, any of my friends will volunteer to be my coffin bearer. My brother had 10 friends who volunteered to be the coffin bearers during his final departure. I’ve never seen a scene more racial than this and brotherhood so strong that surpassed all religious taboos. That day, I didn’t see Indian, Chinese, Eurasian, Chindian, Sikh, Malay and Indonesian. That day, I saw brotherhood love.

I’m gonna sidetrack a lil’ here – I follow Malaysian politics closely, I read about them and make my judgments but I don’t comment openly about them because it’s not the purpose of my blog. I hardly read the papers these days. I think the PR reps in the ministries are having a hard time working overtime to spin tales of happily ever after. I read the papers and find more and more quotes on denials. I read the papers and I see no vision or direction. I read the papers and I think even the reporters have a hard time trying to comprehend what exactly politicians are trying to say in their speeches.  Providing us daily dose of entertainment with their bickering about nonsensical issues that are immaterial and politicians disillusioned by the myriads of awards that are created to disillusion the people with achievements that are meaningless. Speeches about equal opportunities with favoritism that benefit cronies. Hippocratic preaching about racial harmony and religious freedom, but unspoken regulations about religious boundaries and snide remarks rich in racial cynicism. 50 years of independence and we have yet to grow up. I think these morons we vote to lead the country ought to learn a lesson or two from my brother and his friends.

Just now I looked at my Facebook “10-second interview” application and pondered deeply on the question, “When they write my obituary, I hope they mention…”

…….

…….

I haven’t decided how I want to be remembered.

I’m happy that my brother lived his life to the fullest. But my heart still cries for all the things that he will miss in this lifetime.

We would like to extend our THANK YOUs to everyone out there who has supported Tian Leng and his family during this trying period. We would like to acknowledge and thank (in no particular order):

1) The lecturers, staff and management of Genting Inti International College (GIIC).

2) Cousins, aunties, uncles and distant relatives for your support and prayers. Special thanks to Kai Lee and Tian Seng who had aided us at the hospital, Tian Ming for making the phone call to HKL, Tian Huat who flew back from Australia and everyone else who came from all over to support the family, especially my mom and dad. Text messages from Sheh Lynn. Aunty Swee Kuan who stayed all night reciting prayers, cousin Lynne. Aunty Poh Hwa and Aunty Melina who helped cleaned up the house in preparation for the funeral. All uncles and aunties who came down from Singapore, KL and Malacca and took care of us. Uncle Chai Ting and wife who helped arranged for the boats.

3) Tian Leng’s friends who had stayed overnight, accompanied and supported him at the hospital – Galvin, Amirul, Wai Seng, Rajiv, Wei Yan, Aislynn, Joshua (di di), Soh, Feri, Prakash, Ah Yen, Feri, Shin Pey, Shin Wey and many more of whom I may have missed here.

4) Prema and family.

5) Uncle Robert, Aunty Leeann and whole family.

6) Members of YF, friends and Sean & friends from KL who knew my brother from YF camp. Thanks for making 500pcs of burgers for guests refreshment. That was really…impressive especially having to stay up so late and waking up early in the morning to prepare these for the final day memorial service.

7) Reverend Zadock, friends and members of Presbyterian Church PD, Full Gospel Businessmen  Fellowship, Sidang Injil Borneo, for their prayers. Elder Siew and aunty Cherrie from St Andrews Church KL.

8 ) Tian Leng’s friends from GIIC who made 1,000 cranes of blessings and well wishes while he was at the hospital.

9) Indian Society GIIC for the donation.

10) Everyone who came for the memorial service. Flower tributes by friends. Mau Chuang (US) for the flower tributes and lovely message.

11) My friends – Dorothy who flew back from Langkawi, Evienne, Wesley, Willy, Huan Sien, Soo Teng, Foo Anne, Chen Chin, Mau Che, Chow Chin, Suet Li, Xiao Lian, Liang Wu, Lay Koon, Soon Lim, Esther, Chee Kin, Alan, Stephanie, Denise, Joseph, Qua Zing, Qua Zen. Friends who gave contributions eventhough they could not make it to the memorial service. Well wishes and messages from everyone. Sally Ong in Canada. Yun Kin who called me on my mobile all the way from Moscow. Hung Shen who accompanied me overnight at the hospital. Sharon & Jason (Australia) for the flowers.

12) The lovely tributes at the memorial service.

13) Dr Asraf, Dr Jasmine, Dr Nosmah, Dr Bakri and all the nurses at HKL.

14) Wai Seng and Joshua who became the unofficial driver, photographer, videographer and everything in between.

15) Shin Wey as the keyboardist and members of YF who helped prepare the programme booklets.

Many friends have called to ask where his ashes will be kept. Actually, the family decided to set him free, i.e., disperse his ashes into the open sea because he loves the sea (you may read about Tian Leng here). The weather was hot and sunny throughout the three days, and it started to drizzle right after his cremation. When we went out to the sea the following morning, I guess Tian Leng decided to give us all one final adventure. It started to rain heavily as we set out into the sea in two fishing boats. We joked about how he must be having a big laugh getting us all wet and clumsy.

Our uncle the ‘pirate’

The event brought back memories of younger years where dad used to bring Tian Leng and I for evening walks along the beach behind the jetty. Yes, the sea was indeed his passion.

Brother was pronounced dead at 9:45am. Earlier on, a fat neuro surgeon came over to look at my brother. He was holding the same x-ray results as the first night, and told me the same thing that I already knew. I asked him on the course of action, and he said they can’t do anything for now as my brother’s condition was bad. Then he asked me, “how did your brother fall?” And I looked at him with a really pissed off face and said, “You mean you come in without reading your report? You don’t know the background at all and you wanna make decision on what should be done?!” and without answering my question, he turned to the nurse and mumbled annoyingly, “terlalu banyak orang di sinila!” referring to my parents, aunt and my brother’s girlfriend who were surrounding my brother’s bed. Then, he even asked the nurse, “dia construction worker ke?” I could just punch him then! Him and his fat so-hai face. Few minutes later, my mom then asked him about my brother and he scolded my mom. “There are too many of you here. I have already told someone just now!” and I looked at him and said “this is my mother you are speaking to!” my mom was so distress then she just couldn’t be bothered and turned back her attention to my brother. The surgeon then tried talking to my mother asking “aunty, what was it you wanted to know?” but my mom was just too tired and depressed to talk to him. As he was walking out, my friend overheard this stupid surgeon talking to the nurse, “I just want to show sympathy but I dunno what is going on la.”

Would you want this so-hai to operate on your brains?

The security guard guarding the ICU was no less better. Scolded my mom because she walked in, holding an unrestricted pass issued by the doctor. She scolded my mom because it was past visiting hours. Then I told her about the pass issued by the doctor and still, she insisted that it was past visiting hours. I remember shouting at her, “Apa you marah-marah? Kalau you mau cakap, cakap elok-elok sikit la! Saya punya mak sudah sakit hati. You tak boleh cakap elok sikit kah?” “Sekarang you masuk dalam tanya doctor! Doktor cakap lain. You cakap lain!” Then she went in and asked the doctor. She reappeared after a few minutes and allowed my mom to go in, this time, a little more polite, yet without even an apology.

Since my brother fell from a building, we had to make a police report. It appeared that there was a duplicate since the college already made a report at the police station in Genting, and I made another one at the Pondok Polis at HKL. We had to wait for the police officer from Genting to come down to take photographs and certify report.

It was around 10:15am when I spoke to the police in HKL, they gave me the name of the sergeant and told me to wait at the mortuary. They couldn’t confirm at what time the sergeant will arrive, so just wait. I waited for about 30 minutes, then left my phone number at the mortuary. I then called the police station in Genting, and they said the sergeant was in court and will come after that. They then gave me his mobile number and told me to contact him directly. I couldn’t get through his mobile, so all we could do… was again, wait. Made a few calls again without avail. So, I left a text message. We waited… till about 2:30pm. Still no news. The weather was humid, the hospital was crowded, we were tired, distress and with no where to go except to wait at the cafeteria. Mind you, but HKL’s cafeteria is no Starbucks.

I finally managed to get through the sergeant’s phone, and he told me that it wasn’t his district because he was from Temerloh branch. He didn’t even have the slightest courtesy to reply my text message! Gave me another number to contact. Then, I contacted another officer but he didn’t pick up his phone. By then, I was so frustrated I went back to the pondok polis and told the officers what happened. I practically begged them to be sympathetic because we had to rush back to hometown in Port Dickson and we had to conduct prayers by 7pm and my parents were tired and we had to leave before the after-office-hours traffic jam. They said, “Kita pun tak tau. Ni sebab… kita cuma terima instruction saja.” So they made a call to God knows where, spoke to God knows who, then told me, “You tunggu sini kejap. Kita tunggu panggilan.” I asked why they can’t do the post-mortem, and they said it was because it was not under their jurisdiction, so they can’t do it. I waited again inside the Pondok Polis for about 30 minutes. Then I asked them …. AGAIN! And they said, “Kita belum terima panggilan. Ataupun Cik, kita dial you cakap dengan polis di Genting.” Inside my head, I was thinking, “This is not my job!!!” I was soo frustrated and angry and sad that I just walked out of the pondok and slammed the door. Yes, I slammed the door. Then I stood outside, called my friend, and started crying hysterically, “how long more does my brother need to wait for these fuckers!”

The police officer then came out and said, “Cik, kita sudah call. Officer akan datang sekarang. Ni you cakap dengan officer di telefon ya…” A lady on the other end of the phone told me that the sergeant was on his way down from Temerloh. I then called the sergeant’s mobile and he told me he just left Temerloh, on the highway, and will take another 1 hour “kalau tak de jam.” I then sent him a message “Sarjan Harun, tolong cepat sikitla ya. Sebab kita sudah tunggu lama dari pagi. Tolongla ya sebab kita kena hantar arwah adik balik kampung kat PD. Jauh lagi. Kena sembahyang pukul 7.Tolongla ya sebab mak bapak pun dah penat.” I sent it 3 times to ensure he got it and to set off his guilt conscious.

I think the sergeant arrived at about 4:45p.m. We went over to the mortuary, and it only took him about 10 minutes to take photographs! Apparently, post-mortem is not required because my brother passed away at the hospital, not on-site. So he only needed to refer to the medical reports. We were then stuck in traffic jam on our way back. I kinda pity the sergeant. Drove all the way from Pahang when it could have been more efficient if the work was done by the officers in based in HKL, and then to send the pictures over to him via e-mail or something.

Could have saved us almost 7 hours worth of waiting time, sitting around in despair.

The story didn’t end there. When we had to identify the body to be transported back by undertaker, the mortician showed me a WRONG body!! I leaned my face over the body to take a closer look. When he opened the white cloth, I was taken aback when I stared face to face with a really really old man. I almost had a heart attack. I was so shocked that till today, I am still haunted by the image of that pale, wrinkled old man in my head.

The Unexpected Call

When my house phone rang last Friday night, just slightly pass 12 midnight, I knew something bad had happened. With handphone technology, no one calls the house phone unless it’s emergency. My brother’s room mate and friend, was on the other end, called all the way from Johor to tell me that my brother had fallen from the 3^rd floor in college and he was unconscious, bleeding badly from the head but no one dared to move him. Everyone was waiting for the ambulance. I could feel my heart beating so fast I could barely breathe.

The drive up to KL was a silently torturous ordeal. Anxiously worried yet feeling so helplessly far away, it was the longest 1 hour drive I ever took. As I approached the Sg. Besi toll, my handphone rang. I looked at it and didn’t recognise the number. “Please, please, don’t tell me my brother is dead.” I thought to myself. When the caller told me that my brother was now on his way to Hospital Kuala Lumpur (HKL), still unconscious but breathing, I uttered a sigh of relief. He was in very, very critical condition. At that instant, I wanted to cry. But my mom and sister were there with me, and I didn’t want them to worry until we got there. Thoughts raced and switched back and forth for a few seconds if I should instruct them to send my brother straight to a private hospital. But Genting was so far away, and HKL was probably the nearest. Private hospital might require deposit payment, of which I didn’t know if his friend had. And I wasn’t sure if my brother had the medical card with him. “He gotta get treatment fast.” I thought to myself. The radio was playing “Big Girls Don’t Cry” by Fergie. I found a new interpretation to the song. Now, each time I hear that song, it gives me chills, and I’ll switch channel.

Can this be Negligence?

It was already 2am by the time we arrived at the hospital. His lecturer and a friend were there. I was told the ambulance arrived at the hospital at 1:20am. We were asked to wait outside while they treated him. Finally, two specialists came out to update us on my brother’s condition. The way they spoke to us gave me no confidence at all. Damn lembik. Told us that we have to be prepared as my brother was very critical, and he might not survive the night. I asked if my brother could be transferred. They said he was too critical to be moved. They told us that my brother’s lungs were punctured and his skull cracked, leading to extreme blood hemorrhaging and the important thing was to stop the bleeding and they needed my mom to sign some papers for blood transfusion from blood bank. Again, they ushered us out and told us to wait.

By the time my dad arrived, it was around 4:30am. Dad broke down upon seeing my brother. We were worried about dad’s heart condition too since he was on medication. After that, the specialists told us they needed to do another CT scan. So, we waited again.

The specialist pulled me aside and told me about my brother’s condition. He showed me the brain x-ray and said that my brother was clinically brain dead because he didn’t show any reaction and pupils were dilated. Said his lungs collapsed, he was bleeding badly and he was on artificial respiratory system. There was nothing much they could do. My brother was still at the E&E then. He asked me, “are you strong enough to tell you mom and dad? Can you tell them this news? They have to be prepared.” I called my uncle, who is also a specialist in Malacca. We felt totally helpless, relying upon the hospital’s specialists and trusting them. Many of his friends started arriving at the hospital, and soon, everyone was crying hysterically. Then I asked the specialist what were we waiting for? What was the next course of action and he said, they were waiting for neuro surgeon to arrive. I asked what time he called and he said 5:30am. The time then, was 6:15am. I asked why didn’t they call earlier, and he said it was because my brother’s blood pressure was low, they couldn’t do the CT scan. So they didn’t call in the surgeon.

I then called my uncle in KL. Aunt and uncle arrived around 7 morning with two cousins, who are also doctors based in UK. Immediately they went in and started poking around, asking the specialists questions and pressing them. When my cousin asked the doctor to send my brother up to the ICU, they said that they didn’t have enough beds. My cousin, another doctor in Australia made a direct call to the anesthetician and he immediately sent a team down to the E&E ward. All of a sudden, we had almost 10 doctors and nurses crowding around my brother. They did another scan around his abdomen area and found fluids, meaning he was also bleeding around his abdomen area. They then asked my dad to sign a form, and around 10am, wheeled my brother up to the operating theatre. They called in a specialist from IJN to assist in the surgery.

While my brother as in surgery, the doctor came out to update me on the surgery.  He said something which bothered me so much. He said, “from the report I see that the incident happened quite late. He came in at around 4am right?” and I said, “No….he arrived at hospital by 1am …The report said 4am?!! ” Then he looked a little surprised and said, “Oh, I must have read wrongly. Erm, so sorry about your brother… we are trying our best. We didn’t know there was a case downstairs until your cousin called.”

My brother, during the surgery, had two cardiac arrest, but came back again. Finally, at about 4:30pm, my brother was out of OT, and sent to ICU. They managed to stop the bleeding but they would have to observe another 2-3 days before they can work on the brain.

Between 1:20am – 10am, what were the specialists doing then? Why didn’t they send my brother up immediately? Why did they tell us that he was too critical to be moved? What did they mean that there was nothing much they could do? Why didn’t they send him up for surgery immediately? HOW CRITICAL DOES CRITICAL NEED TO BE???

The Corridors of Death

My brother survived his first night in ICU. He had a good, strong heart. He didn’t give up. He fought. I can still remember sitting with my friend in one of them green plastic chairs along the empty corridors on level 3. Mom and dad had gone back to rest. The rumbling sound of rolling wheels of a metal coffin box trolley echoed along the long corridor leading up to the ICU, and thereafter, the same disturbing sound from the other end, but this time, it sounded a little heavier, signifying that it was now filled with a body. Every now and then, sick patients with tubes and machines were wheeled through the corridor. I imagined if I had a third eye, would I see spirits roaming along this long, quiet corridor. Would I see a ghostly undertaker waiting earnestly by the door?

I remember vividly my thoughts as I looked out into the dark sky through the shiny, transparent window panes, asking myself if this was a test from God. Or had my brother been such a bad boy that he might not live to see the world and show the world the greatness he had in him? I remember questioning my faith and my beliefs. At times of despair, we find ourselves religious again. Believing that miracles do happen to those who had faith.

The Last Breathe

Friends of Tian Leng came in droves. It came to a point where they had to line up right outside the ICU so that they could get their turn to go in. Doctor in ICU told us families to stay close by because my brother’s condition was deteriorating. Doctor said that he might not survive the night. The ventilator was not working well with the lungs. Carbon dioxide in the body could not come out, hence poisoning the blood and they had to fix a dialysis. His blood pressure dropped for a while, but as soon as my sister and I got there and started holding his hand, talking to him, it went back up again. We arranged to take turns. My aunt stayed up the whole night in ICU reciting prayers for his salvation. I went home to rest. At about 2am, I got a call from the hospital telling me to go over. My brother’s condition dropped again. I kept telling him, “Don’t be scared, Tian Leng. Che Che is here. Be strong. You must wait for mummy and papa. You must wait….” I found myself crying and repeating the same few phrases. I knew he was scared. I wondered if he could actually hear us, subconsciously when we spoke to him, although clinically he was brain dead. Aunt said the spirit man can hear. Mom and dad got lost on the way to the hospital, and by the time I got to them, it was around 5am. Tian Leng’s blood pressure dropped until 28. His friends were already there. But as soon as mom and dad arrived and spoke to him, it went all the way up to 71. Maybe it was coincidence. Maybe he could actually hear us.

Tian Leng survived another night in the hospital. But at about 9 something in the morning, he couldn’t hold up anymore, and slowly, began to crash. The most excruciating experience I’ve ever endured is watching someone so dear, slowly losing the ‘beep’. How someone with so much life – so lively and so active, becomes totally lifeless. That ‘passing’ moment, that image, will forever be etched in my memory.

For a moment, I wondered if he chose to go in the morning, defying the doctor’s prediction that he will not survive the night, and since he was someone so afraid of ghosts, perhaps he chose daylight as a better time to go than to leave us in the middle of the night.