THE KNOCKING ON MY DOOR AT 6.15 A.M

It was 6.15 a.m , azan subuh went unheard by me due to the lack of sleep from the constant visits to UH. Sunday night was the night. I was practically, barely a wink away, when an urgent call sent me scrambling for decent and appropriate clothes to rush to the University Hospital. It has just passed 12 midnight.


I drove through to UH without much hassle since there were not many traffics on the road at this time of night. I brave through the empty parking lots, half running, a quarter walking and the other quarter went panting for breath. There were no security guards around but I hold my faith to Allah and put my security in His safe hands while braving through the corridor. Imagine, this not so large and not so huge size, trying to run with my long skirt and huge dark blue T-Shirt....


Like Florence Nightingale...I found my way to U716 on the seventh floor in no time. Seated on this huge dark green chair, I quickly opened and read Surah Yasin. No questions asked, no answers were required in return.


Dutifully I kept reading like a marathon that I once before had in the year 2004 with Beebe (La Vie en Rose), (my twin born from different wombs and a partner in crime) when her dear sweet loving mother was ailing and had passed on in the early morning hours of around 4 a.m. It happened in a different wing, a private wing, of this same University Hospital. She was sadly missed. Al Fatihah to her. Amin. AG the distinguished author of GUiT once wrote in my comment column (when he dropped by to see how I was thriving with this blog), that he had dropped by and recited Al Fatihah on her grave while passing through Kubur Sheikh Ibrahim in Kuala Terenggnu, on his way to his mother's graveyard. Thank you AG.


This time, at U716 room, no one dared sleeping. So, each of us went on with our different tasks till the wee hours of the morning. While Sharifah Nazehah was busy reciting LA ILA HA ILLALLAH repeatedly into her mom's ears, Sharifah Nor Madiah was wiping away her face with air zam zam. Me and Fuad, we took turns to read Surah Yasin.


By the time I reached home it was after 6 o'clock in the morning. Tried to catch some sleep and then woke up to look after Amir Harith. Since Monday, other nights were spent in UH for several hours and then returned home to bed.

That was the only way to repay her kindness to me since the year 1975 when we first met in Kemaman as neighbors and prescribe in Special Dedication To The Lady VIP... Such lacking in sleep which had accumulated since, sent me into my deepest doze in the nights that followed.


31.07.08
Suddenly, "Knock, Knock! Mummy, mummy the house uphill in front of us was robbed!".


Quickly I grabbed hold of my hand phone and tried calling the listed numbers of the security guards that were with me in the same vicinity as in The Sound That Never Was...coincidently, the same house that we kept under surveillance for some hours the last two Mondays, is now the apparent victim. The front glass window was broken, the hardy metal grill that was installed during the colonial time was bravely pierced opened and the rest was history. They left with their loot without any interruptions.


From the time I called the guards, until the day was dawning, no one had come by until 7.30a.m. It was like the call was nothing of importance to them. They did not react on the double as the crime happened...this is normal for SG in this vicinity.


Even when doubled checked with them about The Sound That Never Was, the head of crime said to me (quote and unquote)


" We were lucky that day that there was nothing happened. Otherwise we would be up and down the court as witnesses"....(???????????????).


If I were them, I would have called the students' residential college nearby to find out if they were in anyway rehearsing for such "high crime dramas or least find out from other guards if they have heard "anything of that sort" at all.


Thursday, was our normal day to the "Pasar Tani" nearby. An hour later when we came home, our helper told me that these guards came looking for me. Not knowing which house I have described, they intended to ask me instead. Some guards...guarding the University's exclusive residential area and not knowing which house has what number on which street! They have not taken any notes of my report, that was very definite.


By the time I was at my gate, a pale blue color Proton Wira was seen leaving our neighbor's house. It was marked as a Police car. What? At such a time, almost 8.45am. or so, to take action? Robbery had struck at a quarter past six or slightly earlier. And miraculously they have fled...even if they decided to crawl, they would have got off comfortably and amply not rushed, remained uncaught.


Who were the culprits? Must have been some people who were too familiar with our surroundings and those who have noticed the most available opportunity to strike. The Tenaga Nasional street lightings are so dimmed and romantic that visibility was worse than poor. The area is dark and spooky at night. Even our garden lightings would not have helped much in such hour of the morning.


So, what about us? We leave things in the safe care and in Allah's hands against any possibilities that went beyond our control and means. Amin.


To rely on such security guards? OR not to rely...is yet to see. But for sure, all reports are taken and wonderfully narrated in their report log books.


BUT it was quite different in the case of another neighbor living besides us. Their helper absconded with their jewelleries, passport and clothings but leaving behind a sleeping one and a half year old little angel, called Sarah. It was some time in June when she decided to leave her employment in such a disorderly and dishonestly manner.

When I summoned the guards, they came almost immediately and took the case seriously since there was a child locked inside and a grand mother locked out. The back door was opened. Sarah who has just awaken, was hungry for her milk. The grand mother rushed to me while I was in the kitchen preparing some fried noodles to share with them.

Panting for breath, she lamented words that almost sent me down on my knees.

"I knocked hard on the door!" she said.

"I did not hear you, I was in the kitchen" I replied.

"No, it was not your door. Our house is empty. Only Sarah is inside".

"No wonder, when I called a few times, your house phone went unanswered. I thought your helper might have fallen in the bathroom and she was knocked out."

"No! Her bedroom is empty. I could see through the window she was not there. Sarah is all alone in the house".


Then she hurriedly went back to her house to look after Sarah who was inside.

After filling up the used plastic bottle with plain water, I went to the fence and pushed it over to her to share with little Sarah. Meanwhile, I rushed inside to call the security guards to break down the latched front door. That was one of those times that I exchanged phone numbers with a few guards of different tasks.

Poor little Sarah.