C'est La Vie

This is the last day of the year, and tonight its last night. On TV, the news is still full of Benazir Bhutto, killed three days ago and her 19 year old son sworn in today to take over her party chairmanship. Next door, my neighbour and his much extended family are having their annual dinner, chatting, laughing and making merry, the children playing with balloons, sparklers and fire crackers.

A year ago today, another leader also fell. A brief recital of the shahadah and Saddam Hussein was no more. But the TV is saying black gold production in Iraq has gone back to normal, close to the level before the war, contributing much to the country’s annihilated economy. As the world awaits the new price with bated breath, I cannot help but wonder, this black gold, to whom does it belong, really? What use Is it now to the Iraqis who have been liberated without realising that they needed to be?

Bilawal Bhutto Zardari is on TV again, a spitting image of his mother, so young, still in university, already ensured of a place in the history of his country. It makes me wonder if our own young people would so willingly take over the business of the family, be it politics, commerce or even the most trivial of trivialities. Take my own children for example. True there is no family business to inherit, but not one of them would even consider the career that I chose. Not for them is the life of a fonctionnaire, no Siree!

And tonight, as I watch the red, blue, purple and green balloons drift into my side of the fence, I think of my children and New Year eves of the past, when we could be together, before they became old enough to go celebrating with their friends and special persons, before studies or work take them so far away from home. New Year eves were always a together time, for partaking of a somewhat special dinner at home, then a slow drive to see the lights before the show of pyrotechnics.

Some years a long time ago, we watched the fireworks from the playground on the hill in Sri Gombak or join the crowd at Padang Merbok with a picnic of KFC. Later on, we avoided the traffic jam and watched from the comfort of our window at home or our neighbour’s garden in Setiamurni. Then once from the top floor launderette of Building 11, Peabody Terrace, looking out along the Charles River all the way to Boston Harbour. The next time we could all be together was in Singapore; we watched the sophisticated display on the waterfront from our 25th floor living room, wondering if the show back home at KLCC was just as breathtaking. New Year eve 2006 my eldest got married while late last December Zachary arrived and the sparklers of New Year eve were dimmed by the sparkle in his eyes.

The time for resolutions is here. Mine are very simple. I will from now on make my children remember always where they come from and how important it is to be strong in conviction, to protect religion and country and be the ones to determine the course of its destiny. And though they go away far and often, wherever they are, they will make the effort and the time, so that being together in one place does not remain elusive to us for far too long now.

My neighbour and guests have started their Yaaaaaaaam Seng! The fireworks dazzling the night sky. Happy New Year Everybody! Time to turn in, then get up for tahajud and pray that we all remain resolute and there will be answers to all our prayers, aamiin!