R.I.P. Azmi Husein

 What did I tell you early this morning? How have I been keeping myself? How far or near am I to being fully awakened from this deep sleepwalking act? I have just lost my adopted son, taken away at the peak of his career, leaving behind a young family of four, a mother and children. They visited my home for the Last hair Raya open house party we had, or was it two years ago? Azmi or Mei, as everyone called him, was an artist who trans formed from a timid and shy young man with low self-esteem into a legend among his peers. He held several Guinness Malaysian Records for his creative ventures. I say so because he was closer to me than a friend; he won my heart through his humbleness and sincerity, and so we chatted a lot about what it takes to become what you want to become as an artist, or what makes an artist. I watched him overcome all the hurdles to cut through a space of his own, especially in a Chinese-dominated art scene such as in Penang. He had done it in a short period, breaking down walls after walls with his murals scattered all over the City, inside and outside restaurants and coffee shops. 

                                Azmi's was across the street. Headed for the wrong grave site.

One of the most painful experiences endured by the 'Wandering Jew', a man cursed by Jesus for taunting Him while he was bearing the Cross to Golgotha, is the fact that he had to watch all those he came to love or beloved pass away before his eyes. I have been seeing quite a few of late, people I knew and cared for, their departure left a small hole in my heart; I do not moan their departure, I simply feel a sense of loss, of letting go, of impermanence, of wondering if my turn is around the next corner. InshaAllah! If I were to leave this life, I pray that I die in the name of the One, having absolute faith and surrender in His Name, and in honor of His Prophet s.a.w. I say this to myself and to my Lord this morning as my ultimate desire in how I face my own death. I am now beginning to feel like the character of the Legend of the Wandering Jew already. However, to be taken away in the prime of one's age and the blooming success of one's career while leaving behind a young family is not what I would call a fair deal. I don't think that the Good Lord has ever said that life is fair. 

                              My Young Friend's final resting Place, waiting for his casket.

                                               RIP Azmi Husein

While they were burying him, I sat beside my good friend Hasnul J. Saidon, the former Director of the Gallery Tuanku Fauziah at USM. He had just retired from his post. We sat underneath a magnolia tree to avoid the scorching sun; what a coincidence. I felt like I had lost two good artist friends on this day. The only words spoken between us were what Hasnul said to me: " The one who should have been taken is still alive!" He was referring to himself when He had a phase 4 cancer of the Kidneys situation and is now fully recovered. The innocent and the good die young, I wanted to say but held it back so as not to complicate a fading relationship. The situation I am having with Hasnul is similar to that of my twin brother, and I see the similarity in the fact that they were in a high ranking government service, both were Directors and as such they treat others as though one is beneath them, or should be treated like an employee. I write about it in a little more detail only because I wish to clarify our status at least from my perspective, and as always, the Devil is in the details, especially in matters like this. Oh, one thing more he said. "We will be spending Hari Raya in Penang this year." I replied, " Oh yeah? You can come and visit my home on Hari Raya Day!"

Waiting for the casket to leave the Masjid  Hashim Yahaya after the Sembahyang Jenazah.