The Green Kain Pelekat

Friday, 20th May 2005

My nenek sleeps every night with a green kain pelekat as a blanket.

The kain used to belong to her late husband, my grandfather. Every morning, she would fold it nicely and place it at the side of her bed. Once, every week, my maid would take it and launder it within a day so that it would be ready, clean and dry on the bed again the same night for my nenek to fall asleep with.

Suddenly the green kain pelekat went missing.

Distressed, my nenek searched high and low for it. My mom, sister and maid joined in the search, after all of them have sworn that they had nothing to do with it being missing. Together, the search quartet dug closets, laundry baskets, drawers and even book shelves and old storeroom boxes, in every corner, in every room on each of the four floors in our house. From top to bottom.

The thing has totally disappeared.

After two weeks of searching but finding nothing but things that we didn't know we had or that we forgot we had, like a stack of US dollars that my late father hid from us, very vintage vinyl records, moth-eaten Playboy and Penthouse magazines dated from way back in the 70's and very old Jelita magazines with women in shoulder-pads as cover girls, the quartet is close to giving up. A few nights ago, as my nenek settled down to sleep, she sighed a long, resigned sigh and said:-

"Sudahlah. Malaikat ambik kain nenek pasal nenek tak lama lagi nak mati."

At that precise moment, as my nenek said those words in the still of the night, a house-lizard, a cicak made its chit,chit,chit sound. My mom heard it but she wasn't sure if my nenek did.

They say, when that happens, it means betul cicak cakap. It means whatever that was said is true or will come true. It's just a thing our elders used to say, when lazy kampung days made their imaginations run wild.

But that moment has shrouded my mom's heart in ominous fear, for my mom may appear to be all modern and career-driven but she still opens her mind to old Malay superstitions like these. When she told me the whole story in the car, a few days ago, when I was in Singapore on duty, her face wore a baleful look.

Still, her fear is not unfounded. My nenek's health has been deteriorating lately, as she feels more aches due to her osteoporosis, takes more Isordil tablets for her weak heart and walks more slowly now, with the help of the walking stick I lovingly bought for her in Dubai.

My mom needs my nenek the same, dependent way I need my mom.

I need them both the same way I need the air I breath.

Please don't leave me barely breathing.