the relish dish

The mobile rang. It was 1.45pm, Saturday, August 4. “Salaam, Abang. Are you still on the way? Oh, that’s about 45 minutes to here already. I just wanted to tell you that Uncu has passed away. Ten minutes ago. Drive safely, and see you here soon.”

Ayong, ever so polite, ever so calm, hung up. Many more people to call, many things to arrange for.

My heart sank, and sank, and sank. I had so wanted to visit Uncu again, but duty and travel had not permitted. And that Saturday, I resolved to go see him.

The three-hour ride to the hospital felt like forever. It's always like that, isn't it? Time seems like an eternity when you want less of it, but flies by in a blink when you desperately need more of it.

Three years ago, I promised myself that I wouldn’t turn into this person who’d put work and everything else before family and loved ones.

I kept that promise for two years. This year, the promise was broken. And with that, several hearts as well.

Sorry I am. Shame I bear. Regrets I live with.

And a season for every activity under heaven

A time to be born and a time to die

A time to plant and a time to uproot

And a time to kill and a time to heal

A time to weep and a time to laugh

A time to mourn and a time to dance

A time to embrace and a time to refrain

A time to search and a time to give up

A time to keep and a time to throw away

A time to love and a time to hate

A time for war and a time for peace