The Other Side of A Reunion

by mzauri@pc.jaring.my

“Malam ASPUTRA 2009”, that was the theme given for a reunion dinner hosted by the Alumni of Sekolah Menengah Sains Tuanku Syed Putra, Kangar, Perlis on July 4^th, 2009. It was held at Hotel Singgahsana, Petaling Jaya. Former students of the school starting from the SPM Batch 1976 until the latest batch, came from all over Malaysia, hoping to meet long lost friends, honouring their former teachers who were responsible, at least partly, for making them what they are now and enjoying the good food, good music and good company.

As I glanced around the hall, I could see happy faces, faces in tears (tears of joy), a lot of handshakes, a lot of hugging and a lot of cheek kissing. I could hear a lot of laughter, a lot of shouting and a lot of crying (cry of joy). Forget about good food, forget about good music and forget about the speeches! They just want to be together, they just want to hear the stories of their friends, the adventures that they had, their trials and tribulations and their triumphs. They would like that night to be a never-ending one. Some groups even held post-dinner gatherings at the coffee house of a well known hotel nearby or at “Kedai Mamak” opposite that hotel. The laughters could be heard until the early hours of the morning.

Walking away from “Kedai Mamak’s” table to start my journey back to where I came from was very hard. My pace was very slow and my body felt weak, showing the resistance to part company with my friends, some, whom I have not seen for more than thirty years! My mind started to wonder around.

I thought about those who attended the dinner. For those who live around Klang Valley, some came in chauffer-driven luxury cars, some in spouse-driven family cars and some car-pooled. For those who live outside the valley but made a point to attend the dinner, there are some of them who came by public transportation. I noticed that whatever transportation that were mentioned, all of them received the same enthusiatic handshakes, the same power hugs and the same pressure cheek-kissings among themselves. This is what you get when the friendships are based on sincerity and lillahi ta’ala.

Khushairi and I had the privilage of accompanying two former teachers, Cikgu Baharom and Cikgu Munir, to the reunion. The moment we arrived at the teachers’ houses to pick them up, we could observe the teachers’ enthusiasms, looking forward to meet their former proteges. Travelling from Kangar on PLUS Highway to PJ with the two of them really made the journey enjoyable. A lot of historical stories about our school, our teachers and the students were made known to us, some stories, we have never heard before! However, in between their stories, both of them kept on repeating how excited they are to meet all of us.

Being able to attend the reunion, made me consider myself to be very lucky. There were a number of my friends who made plans to attend the much awaited event, however, when the reunion came, they were unable to do so. I felt sorry for Azizi Ahmad Termizi, his medical review (wrist fracture) the day before the reunion did not permit him from attending (it seemed similar to EPL where you have to pass your fitness test before playing for the club). Dino, too, made an effort to come, but in the end, could not do so. Everybody who were able to attend wondered how it would be if ALL of us could come. That will be THE DAY (OR NIGHT!).

Those who were able to attend had their own stories, too. First, I would like to mention Cikgu Munir’s predicament. When Khushairi invited him to the Reunion, he said that he could not confirm immediately. Later, we learnt that his wife is partially paralysed. His attendance would depend on his son’s ability to get leave from work to take care of his wife during his absence. That night… there he was entering the hall, dressed smartly in light blue coloured batik shirt, smiling as if nothing was bothering his mind.

During the weeks leading to the reunion, I had heard stories of those whose, either spouses or family members, having long term illnesses but carried on the reunion promotion without any hesitation on their part. They politely declined when I asked their permission to mention their names. Were we lucky enough to be able to attend the reunion calmly and peacefully?

After the reunion, those who were from the valley would have been in the arms of their loved ones as early as midnight. Others would have to wait their turn, either later in the morning or afternoon or even evening the day after. The choice for the location might be tied to the addresses of the majority of the alumni members, however, everybody made a point to attend, wherever locations they might be settling in.

Lastly, that early hours of the morning, before I entered through the automatic doors of the hotel I was staying, I could still hear my wife’s voice persuading my youngest daughter, Deqda, “Abah have been working from our own home all this while. Now, let us give him some time to spend with his friends”. Dearest Ina, thank you so much for that kind and considerate words. I really appreciated them. May Allah rewards you for your kindness and sincerity.

“SEE YA, NEXT YEAR”