Nyang...

I dunno why when I was on the john this morning, I suddenly thought of my Nyang. In my head, I saw her on my bed at our old house, knitting. A window was next to her so there was a like an ethereal glow surrounded her , as her 2 needles worked at a furious speed.

I remember the wool being white and I remember huddling next to her, my 6-7 year old self, watching in fascination as shapes formed and tied together.

“Ada orang suruh Nyang buat ni. Alas meja…..” That was how she fed her family after her husband passed away by selling her knittings and cloths. My mother was about 5 then. She never re-married although she was widowed quite young. My mom told me once that she used to chase her suitors away with shoes and brooms if they dare propose !

“Nanti Nyang ajar boleh ?” I asked this much loved lady who taught me to pray by forcing me to emulate her movements and reading the verses out loud. This was also the lady who bought me my first telekung and dressed my head in her scarves. I remember a pink one that is my favourite. I was forever putting it on my head and inhaling her scent that lingered there.

This was also the lady whom I remembered sending me to my kindergarten (funny enough, the kindergarten was on the same row as my house now….. It is no more a kindie though…..) by pushing the bike while I sat happily listening to her chatters for all 30 minutes of the journey. Whenever she is around, Mum had to cancel the school bus.

This is also the lady who fed me Maggie Mee Assam Laksa in front of my mom, as an act of defiance as she is the one who raised my mother so she knows best. Says who Maggie Mee is bad ? Ha ha...

I remember her tipping me RM1 whenever I accompanied her to wait for the bus and who grabbed my brother in the morning, holding him upside down by his ankles, shaking him a bit in her bid to cure him of his bed wetting.

This is also the lady who pretended to be deaf... because she could hear just fine when we gossiped. And this is also the lady who irked my aunt because she can't recognise her but could see that she had put on weight. "Sapa ni ?" she asked. "Ohhh..... Kiah ke ? Gemuk kamu ye....." He heh... Precious.

I also remember that this was the lady who saw my dad sneakily burying our family cat he just ran over. When he came inside, relieved that nobody saw what he did but my Nyang surprised him by asking, “Dah mati ke kucing tu ?” and he had no choice but to confess to my mother.

I also remember her funeral where I was cried non-stop as soon as I yanked the cover and cried even harder when the skin I kissed was cold. I wailed the whole time they bathed her and sat next to her wailing some more while they kapan-ed her body.

It was during her funeral when a second cousin looked at me curiously and asked, “Ini nenek kakak ke ?” I shot daggers at her and shouted “Ini Nyang kita !!”

I also remember that she never got around to teach me how to knit properly eventhough we had plenty of time. She only passed away 4-5 years ago.

And I now realized that I do not own even one of her knittings, not even my mom, the favourite grandchild whom she raised.

And I never realized up until know how much I miss her.

Al-Fatihah to Saenah Bt Naim, my great-grandmother.