Monday, December 24, 2012

My Adopted Kid Brother

 I remember that. The precious moment…

Setting of Place: Mc Donald’s.
Town: Sibu.
State: Sarawak.
Country: Malaysia. (or where else could it be?)

We’re having breakfast. Probably, at lunchtime. Or maybe, dinnertime. Oh God, I quite have a bad memory. Sorry about that. The point is, after the last few months, that lovely moment is still freshly stuck in my head. Until today!

Me and Harlister Iwan, my beloved student a.k.a this year’s PMR candidate, went out together. Like a loving couple but of course not! When? The date? Erm…I feel quite unsure. It’s like, I’m suffering Alzheimer. Oh God.

We both were sitting opposite to each other. How sweet! Haha. On the ground floor of the fast food restaurant, serving popular American fast food. Trust me, I would rather not eat fast food. Still, I frequently drop by. Shit!

One question I used to inquire to this intelligent male student. The form of the question was a little bit different, fully changed. The meaning was still the same, though. The main idea was still there: 

Would you care to be my adopted little brother?

Cikgu Effie, a BM teacher a.k.a the Head Panel of BM in the school, used to recommend that I take his family to be my adopted family. You know that I’ve got nobody in the ‘Land of the Hornbill’. Which is a thousand miles away from the state I was born. Every weekend, there’s no countryside I can go home to.

The Sibu town has to be my ‘countryside’ at times. The place where I regularly cope with my workload pressure. No, I’m kidding. To escape from my boring life there in Batang Igan. Should there be as a stunning beach as Pantai Batu Burok in Kuala Terengganu, I might spend my evenings wandering at the beach.

In the past, if I was going nowhere during weekends, I’d come home with him. Going back to the student's home somewhere in Kampung Bungan Besar. Approximately 15 minutes away from the secondary school. About an hour away from the Kut River. The distance between the river and Dalat town is twenty minutes drive or so, if I’m not mistaken.

Only can we reach Kampung Bungan Besar by boat. The small boat is able to occupy no more than four chubby passengers. Can’t exceed than that or else it’s definitely going to sink! Hoho. Just like the Titanic. And, I don’t want that to happen, for sure. I want to be safe, of course! Don’t you?

Gotta say that Cikgu Effie’s suggestion sounded pretty good! It’s a very brilliant idea, indeed. And I love it. Yet, even so, something had ceased my good intention. Did I deserve it? Would they ever accept me as their new family member, anyway?

“Cikgu Effie cakap kat saya, kenapa saya tak ambik awak sebagai adik angkat.” I heard myself saying.

It’s not a question. More like a statement instead. I did it with courage. Without any feeling of humiliation. As if I was asking the Prime Minister a question. As a matter of fact, couldn’t deny I was really too abashed to ask such a question to him. At that moment. Fancied covering myself with a damn thick blanket. Like in the winter (There's no winter in Malaysia! Heehee...). Or wearing a mask like Spiderman so he would never recognise who I was. Ah, what a shame!

Guess what kind of answer coming out of his mouth afterwards? The answer neither sounded ‘he-would-take-it-as-a-yes’ nor the other way round. This was his very answer, “Nanti saya tanya apak saya.” Apak which is a Melanau Mukah language word means ‘daddy’ in English. But nevertheless, he never told me the answer till today. LOL.

He might’ve forgotten. Or, maybe, he doesn't even wanna be my adopted kid brother at all! A mere wishful thinking, perhaps? I’m starting to make such a nonsense speculation.

Me and Harlister during our holidays at Snow World, Genting Highlands, Pahang

This afternoon, at 3:39p.m., things have changed. After I dared inquire him this question myself. To my mind, if he disliked me, he couldn't be this close to me, right? Even though I was too fond of bullying him most of the times (How cruel!). The question probably sounds a piece of cake to us but on his behalf, things grew slightly awkward to give an answer. As complicated as an Additional Mathematic question!

Would you reckon that he took 16 minutes to reply to my sms. Axiomatically, it’s a really hard question. I told you! He was likely to be thinking of the finest, most precise answer, I thought. As if an ‘alive-or-dead’ question or something. Whoa! (He’s got a kind of good thinking, I must say.)

“Boleh…asal Cikgu bersabar…Cikgu tau perangai saya kan?” replied Harlister candidly.

I psyched himself, deliberately. Attempting to tell him my heartbreak toward the replied answer. Sulking, allegedly.

“Tak pe. Saya tak paksa. Tak kecik hati pun.” – my 4:01 p.m. message.
He shortly replied, “Okeylah tu.”

Then, I was being stupid. As though I wasn’t following him that well. Obstinate. So I replied after that, “Okay ape?”

However, he didn't reply since then. Staying dumb. There’s no following answer I received. I was a little too carried away, I supposed.

Till the clock said 6:53 p.m. Quite unexpectedly, my mobile phone received a couple of messages. One sent by Florencia Alma asking after me. And the other one from the student himself! Wow, whenever the student texts me, I can’t stay composed to read his sms. Like somebody’s in love with a pretty woman or something. Haha!

In the very world, it’s just no more than a student-teacher friendship. Without further ado, I quickly pressed the VIEW button. So the mobile phone screen automatically showed me what his entire sms was about. Which went, “Selamat petang abang…haha.”

I know the addition ‘haha’ was intentionally typed in order to cover his awkward feeling to call me ‘abang’. Moreover, he’s been calling me ‘Cikgu’ all this while in that I am his school teacher. It must sound awkward for both of us.

I turned out to be so too flabbergasted since then. I froze like a non-living statue, really. Dumb. Speechless.

“Er…perlu balas tak?”
“Tapi…apa aku nak cakap?”

Indeed, Allah the All-knower. I couldn’t help feeling so freaking ashamed. At the meantime, so thrilled to bits. Couldn’t stop laughing. As if I was seeing such a hilarious comedy on telly. Such as ‘Pi Mai Pi Mai Tang Tu’. LOL.

After a pretty long wait, at last, by calling me ‘abang’, he obviously has accepted me as his ‘new’ big brother. Even so, the thing is, would this brotherhood certainly last forever? Whereas, in fact, with his very outstanding, excellent PMR exam result, he’ll surely be transferring to a new secondary school next year?

Things are getting worse as we both would be unable to spot one another as much often as ever. And the possibility for our meeting’s almost none! What an upsetting ending it’s gonna look like. It’s our destiny, apparently.

Ah, I ain’t in the mood of thinking about this yet. At least, not at this second! Seems it’s only making me a lot dizzier. Should pen off here. End of the story. Enough that I’ve just accepted this good news. Full-stop.


  1. A great entry here. Your English is excellent!

    1. Thanks a lot for readily spending a little time reading my dull blog. I'm not that good at English, really...and don't get taken aback once you find any grammatical errors or misuse of vocab. Heehee... am still trying my hardest to keep my English writing improved. From time to time. And it could be, or most probably... your English is way better. Who knows, right?

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