written eulogy

November 21, 2019. 

It was three days until our degree graduation, so we had rehearsal to attend that morning.

Since it had been months since I last saw my friends, we actually made plans to meet up before the event started. However, a slight change in plans caused us to make an unplanned detour to our faculty. One of my friend had to make a delivery. Before leaving for Dewan Canselor, we suddenly decided to drop by Cikgu Don's office -- to say hello, just like we used to do when we were still students.

We were so glad to hear the familiar voice greeting us when we knocked on his office door. He was usually a busy man, I'd like to think we were lucky that day.

There were two door knobs on his door and even though I've opened the door hundreds of times before, I still managed to grab hold of the wrong one that morning and it fell off. I was beyond horrified before quickly realising what happend. We had a good laugh over that, till Cikgu Don opened his door.

He was beaming when he saw us and invited us in for a chat.

Sadly, we had to decline his offer since we were in a rush to catch the rehearsal. So we just chatted with him from the doorway. As usual, the conversation flowed and time became 'irrelevant'. That was until our friends who were already at the event started calling our phones.

Our conversation that morning had to be cut short, and we said our goodbyes.

One thing I noticed was how happy he looked. He was in such a cheerful mood, it made us happy.

He asked me what I've been up to.

"Cik Eleanor, jadi macam mana? Jadi reporter suda?" he said grinning.

Few months prior to that morning, I had acually received a job offer from the company where I did my internship with. Cikgu Don was the one who initiated the idea and I followed through, not knowing it would lead me to where I am today.

Though I did my internship as a reporter, I worked as a sub-editor. So, I told him that no, I wasn't a reporter. But I took heed of his advice, which was to continue writing no matter where life takes us. I was also lucky enough to have a supportive boss back then. My boss, just like Cikgu Don, pushed me to keep writing.

He used to tell me, "I don't want you to stop writing just because you have a desk job now."

Whenever I could, I would write and submit it to him.

It just so happened that the last piece I wrote, published on December 10, 2019, featured my alma mater and also Cikgu Don in it.

When it came out, I almost send a copy to Cikgu Don. Just like he did when my very first article came out in 2018. But I didn't, cause I don't want to bother him. 

Had I know then what I knew now, I would have just send it to him. I would have never turned down his invite to chat that morning.

The only consolation I have is knowing he at least saw this piece :)

The late Cikgu Don had always been supportive of his students. He took the time to get to know us and then push us to do what we're meant to do -- even when we ourselves don't know it yet. We would always go to him for advices. No matter how busy or silly the matter, he would never turn us down.

He would take the time to listen to what we had to say.

It was through him that I found my passion for writing. I loved his poetry classes. It was also him who pushed me into the journalism industry.

He was also not one to throw compliments, instead he was our toughest critic. He really was. That is was what made us strive to be better, that was how we improved.

He won't ever let us settle for less.

When he noticed that I have stopped writing, he would ask, "Eleanoros, kenapa cikgu tak nampak kamu menulis sudah sekarang?"

I would tell him that I actually do write, it's just that I couldn't bring myself to post it on social media. The mere thought of having someone else read something I wrote gives me anxiety.

"Satu cikgu mau tegur kau, kau ni tak pandai market diri kau ba."

I could only muster up enough to reply with a nod. I'm working on that, slowly.

Another one of his infamous question is, "Apa bah yang kau cari dalam hidup ni?".

A simple question that could lead to hours and hours of discussion. We loved hearing what he had to say.

Some days, in between classes or whenever we had free time, we would always drop by his office. All five of us tucked in his corner office, talking about everything.

Cikgu Don also loved fowarding messages about writing competition to us, he would encourage us to participate.

I loved those!

"Hantarlah karya. Kalau menang, jangan lupa bagi ibu bapa."

I would spend my free time drafting manuscripts and sending them to organisers. I never did won anything, but I'll take it as practice. Then, he would tell me to start writing to papers whenever we had field trips.

I did and that was what got me into this whole journalism thing, eventhough I don't really have the basics.

Also, I remember my first few months on the job and just how challenging it was. I was trying to cope with the transition while also learning the basics as fast as I could. He knew I was struggling and would often ask how I was doing.

One very busy day, my computer broke down. So, I had to use a spare computer from the other end of the office and I was running around like crazy and was just on the verge of breaking down. My phone buzzed and it was a message from him.

He sent me a sticker saying "Tenang bah kau". It was completely random and out of nowhere, so I was taken aback at how fitting it was.

He would also tell me, "Proses belajar memang begitu."

January 15, 2020.

It was a mere couple of hours before I was due for work, when I got news of his passing.

Took me quite some time to register what the message said.

I kept re-reading it, cause the name sounded familiar but I didn't click in my head yet.

Then the "Rest in peace" messages started pouring in and I started getting nervous.

It was only when my close friend asked about the matter in our group chat that I understood what the message said and the rest is history.

I had to put on a brave front and show up for work anyway, since it wasn't possible to get leave on such short notice.

His daily question of "Jam berapa masuk kerja harini?" kept replaying in my head.

All that aside, I am grateful to be able to call him our teacher during my three years in UMS. He taught me a lot and even helped me achieve things I never thought was possible. I am glad that the last time I talked to him was to thank him for all that he had taught us. 

I didn't realise it at the moment but I am glad I took the time to thank him.

Back to November 20, 2019, remember the conversation me and my friends had with him before rehearsal, it was the last time I talked to him.

That evening, after rehearsal and our pre-convocation shoot, we went to see him again.

I was in a rush since my work starts at 2 pm. Before leaving, I decided to drop by his office again, since I don't know when I am able to visit him again.

With my graduation robe in hand, I knocked on his office door. He opened the door and I said my goodbyes, telling him I am leaving for work.

As I walked away, I remember turning back to face him and I started thanking him for all these years that he had taught us, pushed us to our limits but also listened to us.

A simple action but one I could never forget, for that moment, without knowing, was the last time I saw him.

Terima kasih cikgu :)