AZIZ
This is a true story.
Aziz was my brief childhood friend. Mamak and Chinese parentage. He was a very handsome gentleman. So does his brother, Rahim who is my peer. Aziz was 13 years old when he met me (I was 9 years old) and my siblings to be our playmates.
My neighbour, Farrah (much much older than me) was so infatuated with Aziz. High cheekbones, deep set of soulful eyes, black raven hair, tall, dark and handsome. We used to play a lot of games together. I think he was the one who taught all of us how to play badminton, since he was the oldest among us. We even have our own double partnership. Of course, Farrah always wanted to be in his partner in whatever we played.
He stayed a couple of blocks away from our house. Since we were the majority, (a lot of children stayed in my block of terrace houses), he was the one who always come over with his little brother with badminton rackets and shuttlecocks.
It was the happiest moment of our lives.
One day, Aziz failed to turn up at our place. We waited for him at the court on the road in front of my house, which we had drawn using white spray. We didn’t know what vandalism was then. When he didn’t turn up, we got on and played badminton and other games without him.
I sensed something amiss. It was a tragic day. He was caught smoking in school and was expelled. This angered his father. He was driven away from home as a punishment. Didn’t know what to do, and where to go, he went to the railway track behind our housing area and committed suicide by putting his arm on the railway track. The unthinkable happened. An ongoing train ran over his arm and he was bled to death on the spot.
Upon hearing this, I cycled to his house. I saw a lot of people in front of his house and sound of sad wailing filled the air. I didn’t go in as his parents didn’t know me. I stood watching from afar, feeling so helpless for the very first time of my life.
The following week, Rahim came to see us and played badminton as usual. I could see his eyes swollen due to buckets of tears shed for missing his brother. We didn’t say anything or even asked him about Aziz. After the badminton game, I sat with him alone on the bench at the playground, drinking water from our Tupperware. We didn’t utter a single word. As young as we maybe, we spent a few moments of silence in fond memories of the very much loved Aziz. Rest in peace. May God bless his soul.
Aziz was my brief childhood friend. Mamak and Chinese parentage. He was a very handsome gentleman. So does his brother, Rahim who is my peer. Aziz was 13 years old when he met me (I was 9 years old) and my siblings to be our playmates.
My neighbour, Farrah (much much older than me) was so infatuated with Aziz. High cheekbones, deep set of soulful eyes, black raven hair, tall, dark and handsome. We used to play a lot of games together. I think he was the one who taught all of us how to play badminton, since he was the oldest among us. We even have our own double partnership. Of course, Farrah always wanted to be in his partner in whatever we played.
He stayed a couple of blocks away from our house. Since we were the majority, (a lot of children stayed in my block of terrace houses), he was the one who always come over with his little brother with badminton rackets and shuttlecocks.
It was the happiest moment of our lives.
One day, Aziz failed to turn up at our place. We waited for him at the court on the road in front of my house, which we had drawn using white spray. We didn’t know what vandalism was then. When he didn’t turn up, we got on and played badminton and other games without him.
I sensed something amiss. It was a tragic day. He was caught smoking in school and was expelled. This angered his father. He was driven away from home as a punishment. Didn’t know what to do, and where to go, he went to the railway track behind our housing area and committed suicide by putting his arm on the railway track. The unthinkable happened. An ongoing train ran over his arm and he was bled to death on the spot.
Upon hearing this, I cycled to his house. I saw a lot of people in front of his house and sound of sad wailing filled the air. I didn’t go in as his parents didn’t know me. I stood watching from afar, feeling so helpless for the very first time of my life.
The following week, Rahim came to see us and played badminton as usual. I could see his eyes swollen due to buckets of tears shed for missing his brother. We didn’t say anything or even asked him about Aziz. After the badminton game, I sat with him alone on the bench at the playground, drinking water from our Tupperware. We didn’t utter a single word. As young as we maybe, we spent a few moments of silence in fond memories of the very much loved Aziz. Rest in peace. May God bless his soul.
Comments
Blur Gina | Homepage | 04.08.04 – 11:53 am | #
sad face
ryuu | Homepage | 04.08.04 – 4:48 pm | #