Shahira Ab. Ghani

I’ve just arrived home from attending the funeral. It has been a long day and I still can’t get it off my head.

As I saw her body being lowered to the ground today, memories of us together came flashing back.

I met Shera last when I treated both Yati & her to a belated birthday lunch at Itallianies The Curve only last Friday.

She was her usual chirpy self but I also saw that she was extraordinarily radiant. I felt it in my heart but it didn’t quite make it to my mouth.

We had lunch as usual, making jokes about everything, our kids, our jobs, the waiter... while polishing off everything on the plates. Of course we shared everything we collectively ordered – shrimp linguine, fried calamari, beef lasagna and crème brulee.

As we hugged and kissed before we parted ways, I told her her hair smells delicious. It was as baby-soft as ever but without the brown natural highlights she used to have. A few kisses and hugs and she was gone. As quick as lightning. That’s her- quick, no-nonsense, little miss speedy Gonzales.

And then her brother called me at work yesterday to deliver the news.

It was a horrible accident on her way home from school at about 3pm.

He couldn’t confirm what exactly happened but apparently she hit a lorry. Her neck and head broke. She died when they arrived at a clinic.

She wasn’t driving her own car. It was a brand-new red Savvy that belonged to her sister-in-law. And she has been complaining that something’s wrong with the accelerator/brake.

At the funeral today, she looked calm and beautiful. Her mum was weak and weary and her daughters were solemn but curious, unaware of the magnitude of the situation. Syafiq was just inconsolable.

He made Yati & I promise we’d come visit him and the kids. Her mum wanted us to always think of Shera’s kids as our own.

I saw so many TESL 5-ians today I’ve lost track. It’s heartbreaking to be gathered again under such unfortunate circumstances. Shera would have loved to play host to our gathering, in fact not one conversation passed by without her mentioning of one.

My darling Shera – may you rest in peace. You will be greatly missed. We didn’t get to have our all-girl shopping trip to Bandung , u won’t make it to my house in Melaka after all and I’ve been meaning to tell you this, I think your blog name’s really witty.

You are a strong and selfless woman, often putting the needs of others first ahead of yours. You are a wonderful, efficient and doting mother & wife. Most of all, you are a reliable, rock-steady, fabulous friend.

Ya Allah Ya Tuhanku engkau cucurilah Rahmat ke-atas roh Shahira binti Hawa dan engkau tempatkanlah dia di kalangan orang-orang yang beriman. Amin.

Must. Write. More.

I have got to start writing more.

It's nice to read other people's blogs that get updated often. And man, can people write. It blows my mind at how they can walk their thoughts so carefully and orderly. Me - I don't have such energy. Cut me to the chase and just hit me with it already.

Also, I wait till I have something good i'd like to remember and then I pick up the feather. Otherwise, well, sorry... afraid it won't make the cut.

I don't know how this happened. I'm not proud of this, you know. I used to be quite the writer when I was in school.

My essays have been read out loud in class and more than one lecturer have told me that I've got the flair. In fact, one made me write out a whole new one in front of her because she thought I took my sentences from somewhere, when I was, hello, talking about `my embarrasing experience'. `My'. Mine. Go figure.

So that's saying - people don't throw up reading my stuff.

What on earth is the deal here then..?

I'm thinking it's coz sometimes I just forget this is my space and that I can do whatever the hell I want with it. Guess you could call it `blog-shy'.

And then when I get home, between breastfeeding my baby, my girl's homework, my husband's updates and everything in between, the reasons not to write snowball even more.

But I've got to get back in the game. I've got to, I've got to, I've got to.

Especially since I'm pursuing my doctorate soon and of course the fact that I'm an academic. I'm a researcher. I'm a writer. It's my business to write. Publish or perish, is the mantra drilled day in and day out.

And the sad thing is, I love writing. Most people don't.
So what the hell is the matter with me.....? Get on with the program already...!

I give myself way too many excuses sometimes..sigh..

Just get on your freakin arse and do it!

Excuse my French.

Watch this space..