WEDDING AT KLUANG - DAY 2

The couple looking resplendent in an orange gold songket

Standing in front of the wedding cake

At the banquet table

The mother of all group photo

With Abang Hassan family members

With Ijab who has three children

Isa with Shafiq, Hanif's eldest son

Hussein saying hello to the uncles

Cik Majid hoping everything had gone well with the wedding

So how's life after your retirement, Hassan?

With Naem, Ijab's son who looks like Adi Putra (an actor)

A rose among the thorns?

Fizah and family

Ijab and family

Haniff and family

Harith and family

Hussein and family

Cik Latif family

All the cousins with Cik Latif

The third generation members

Gathering again for the ladies

We have not Ijab for a long long time

Cik Latif with his words of advice

Guilty verdict given to mum and daughter
for suggesting going to Air Hitam

You can feed a batallion with this!

Strategising the day's events

A caged merbok batu

BE MERRY, CAPTURE THE MEMORY - DAY 2

I've got an everlasting love

So tall. so wide, so high

Above the rumble thunder down below

It's your love I need

The morning azan for 'subuh' (dawn) recited in a loud, albeit sweet melodious, voice to announce the faithful that it is time for the obligatory prayer woke me up from my slumber. With so many mosques and suraus in Malaysia, the Azan uttered in a loud resonant and musical voice by the Muezzin facing the direction of the Ka'ba, would fill the air five times a day, no matter where you are.

Opening the door of our room I could see my breath in the fresh, cool and crisp air. Walking round the compound of the rest house was an exhilarating experience. The nasal passage sent down the fresh invigorating air to every bronchiole and alveoli of my lungs. White, wispy hair Chinese women and men joined me with their 'taici' and ritual brisk walking. They had driven up to the raised terrain to envelope themselves with the serene and peaceful 'mise en scène' of the precinct. My husband had excused himself to join Hanif and Faezah on a breakfast-buying jaunt.

The trio brought back pratas, nasi lemak, traditional kueh and packets of teh tarik and coffee. The adults gathered at the coffee house to chow down the spread in front of our eyes. Above the bantering and the ribbing, we gormandized the kueh keria, curry puff, nasi lemak and pratas, skirting the issues of salt and cholesterol intake. The blithsome and larking festive mood was shared around the table we sat with two merbok batus that came flying above our heads. Merbok Batus are territorial birds. They must have swooned in because of the strangers who had invaded their usual haunt. We acted as if the whole place belonged to us. I bet our guffawing and chortling could be heard all over Kluang that morning.

Our breakfast communion soon got the ladies hyperventilated, wired and fired up with someone's suggesting to sidestep out of Kluang's boundary for a twenty minute getaway to Air Hitam (check my write-up on Air Hitam - The Off Beaten Track). The inflamed tension and riotous feeling were too much to hold and like the energetic Speedy Gonzales, the fastest mouse in all Mexico, the Hawa (Eve) community of the round table vanished extremely fast to their rooms, minus the over yellow sombrero and the red ascot and the cries of "iÁndale! ¡Ándale! ¡Arriba! ¡Arriba!" (colloquial Mexican Spanish for "Come on! Hurry up"). I swear some Olympic sprint records were broken that morning!

After the zohor prayers, four cars navigated around the sole roundabout in Kluang, taking the twelve o'clock direction to the wedding ground at Banguan Serbaguna, Kampung Melayu. With a collosal premise and a humongous hall, it was definitely the best choice for a nuptial ceremony.

A cheery carnival atmosphere hanged in the air the moment we alighted from our cars. Smack in front of the entrance to the hall was a tentage housing the wedding berkats with Kak Salbiah dressed in pastel purple shade of baju kurung bestowing the token of appreciation (berkats) to each of the guest after the "salam packet hijau" (shaking hands and giving the monetary cash). Looking like the Dato Bandar Raya of Kluang, Abang Hassan in his mauve baju kurung and songket sampin welcomed us with open arms and a big grin hanging on his face.

An uncontrollable ruckus broke loose the moment we popped our heads into the hall. Familiar and unfamiliar faces looking bewildered surrounded us. Bear hugs and warm pecks were planted on the cheeks. The exultation, regalement and the loud laughter pealing the air brought stares from the other guests. A guessing game took place as we figured out whom we have shaken hands with and who had shaken hands with us. There were cousins whom I had not met for ages. There were spouses whom I had to match to their other half and there were the juniors whom I had to traced their parental lineage. The spectacle and family intimacy experienced were similar to putting the pieces of jigsaw puzzle together to produce the complete image.

We behaved like eagles of one nest and the nest was where we cooped together to find our soul and love. I remember a Hebrew proverb which says "Go to friends for advice, woman for love, strangers for charity and relatives for nothing." I could aptly described how I felt in this manner because of the fluidity and ease we fused as one even though time had dichotomised the family line and chiselled our faces with wrinkles.

Hunger and thirst were forgotten momentarily until the band on the stage inaugurated their performance with the mandatory 'Selamat Pengantin Baru' song which is played at every Malay wedding. Arrival of the bride and groom was announced through the beating of the kompang. Shafrizal and Normah were resplendent in their deep orange songket as they glided across the compound. Each step the couple made was matched with the beating of the kompang percussionists. Professional and amateruish photographers like me focussed for the best angles to capture their special moment as they strode into the hall to the banquet table.

The usual wedding fare was served - nasi beryani, ayam masak merah, dalcha, chutney and achar. As I was about to wet my throat with the cold drink, I was kidnapped and requested to be seated at the long table with the bride and groom. I failed to worm my way out out of the situation. Together with Hussein, Ijab and Wan Tom we sat facing a myriad of glorious dishes - sweet sour fish, tomato-cilly prawns, chicken korma, beef rendang and nasi beryani. The longan iced-tea was terrific and fabulous. I took small bites at the food for a crust eaten in peace is better than a banquet partaken in anxiety. We made small conversation at the table while the couple did the cake cutting and feeding each other with the wedding cake.

With a large gathering of relatives present, it was time for me to take the lead in ushering everyone to immortalise their attendance. Digital cameras were fished out and groups after groups and family after family had their photos taken with the wedded couple. This was the ice-breaker for the clan of varrying ages to mix as one. It was hilarious yet carried out like an organised chaos, preventing any pandemonium to take place. Zul and Kaish were there as crowd control and to assist in the smooth running of the activity. I was calling for the each group to come forward for their turn.

The youngsters were engrossed in exchanging e-mail and frendster addresses and 'what have you' for cyber communicating. Contact numbers were stored in handphones and scraps of paper were sought to collate addresses. The scene warmed my heart to see this generation acquanting themselves and rooting the family tree longer. In this modern world where technology bombardment has invaded our privacy, there is no such thing as separation. Don't ever even try to give excuses for losing and not keeping in touch. To every separation, there is a link you can always depend on, through technology.

Feeling worried as I had not seen the elderly members of the Madar Clan, I texted Cik Majid at 3.30 pm asking him of his whereabouts. Cik Majid, Cik Timah, Cik Ansari, Cik Amy, Cik Maimunah and Madarsari appeared the moment I slid my handphone into my bag. Thank God they had reached safely. More rounds of hugging and asking 'Apa khabar' (how are you?) resulted. New members of the clan were introduced to the uncles and aunties. The highlight of the day must be the group photo we took of everyone. We relished this moment to the fullest.

The hour of separation began to set in after that. One family after another took leave, promising to meet again and maintaining the continuity in communication. We bade farewell with misty eyes, not because of despondency but because we were elated and in high spirits at having met one another. The peal of laughter, the jest and jokes, the warmth and the love, the treasured memories, the felicitous meeting.....all of these will be kept under lock and key together with HOPE in my Pandora's Box, never releasing it's contents. I do not want to lose any of these, ever.

With a heavy heart I opened the door of my car. I waved to Shafiq and his sister who had sent us off. We froze our steps for a minute. Our eyes met. Our heart cried out in silent. I lingered for a while. The ignition key brought life to our Terios and transported me to reality. I gazed at the siblings until they vanished from my sight. We would cling to the memories we had, clutching tigtly to every strand of it and refusing stubbornly to release it.

Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation. I buried myself in my husband's shoulder, thanking him for partaking in this emotional reunion for me.