2nd April, 1972

*comment off.*

I was 8 years old.

It lasted five days.


They couldn’t locate my second brother who was scouting in the jungles of Pahang.

So, we couldn’t put my father in the casket.

Therefore, we had to treat him like he was alive. Spooky for an 8 years old!


We couldn’t bath and musn’t look into the mirrors. (to avoid his soul to see himself)

They tried locating my second brother to bring him back.

Meanwhile, they put him on blocks of ice.

I remembered a lot about the ceremonies eventhough it was 34 years ago.

The kind of clothes we had to wear, prickly, itchy gunny sacks.

Now, 34 years later…


Grandchildren all in a row.


This grandson was throwing the coloured papers on the grave. Somehow this shot looks so, so, errmm…inspiring? Hallelujah!


The children each put a joss-stick for grandpa and they wished him “Happy Anniversary!” Yes, happy indeed. May the Lord looks kindly down on us and have mercy on him and my mother. Lord, have mercy on us and bring them and all the dearly departed to Your Heavenly Kingdom. Amen!