I gathered the stories that was mentioned to me by my uncle and my father, and I piece up a picture of what life was about my grandfather. He died when I was in standard 2, he remains one of the dearest person in my life who had showered me much love when I was a small kid. I remember to this day how he cycled my brother, my sister and me to the market place in one big robust bicycle for breakfast. The kind of old bicycle was not equipped with cable control braking system but rather with iron rods mounted in front of the handle, acted as levers to pull and release the brakes. My tender little hands used to get stuck in those rods that caused me excruciating pain when grandpa pulled the brakes, and my mum always reminded me repeatedly of not to get that stupid act of holding the handle with my fingers, avoiding that particular functioning portion of the braking system whenever grandpa gave us another ride again. I always wanted to take the front seat despite my younger brother and sister should have seated in that position instead, which is relatively a bit narrow and tight for my size to sit in that bucket seat made of rattan.
My grandpa was not a farmer but rather someone who came from a cultured family that wrote and performed rituals for funerals in China. They were considered as literates and people of knowledge in the village back then in Qing Yuan of the Guangdong province in China. The opium had wrecked many families to bankruptcy in China and there was this exodus to look for greener pasture that took place perhaps about 80 years ago. My grandpa just got married and he joined the exodus and came alone to peninsular Malaya. Before long my grandma was brought over to Malaysia by her brother to meet up with my grandpa in Kampar, Perak. My grandma came from a rich family and my grandma would not want to leave a good looking beloved husband in a strange land. According to my father, so far non of us in our family had inherited the good look of my grandpa. The brother of my grandma stayed briefly in KL and started either a coal or iron ore mine, and we did not know for what reason that he eventually returned to China. And now the contact with this family of my grandma side is totally lost, though I tried hard to find his descendents while I was in China, but to no avail.
My uncle told me that my grandparents were staying near the now Eastern Garden of Kampar, cutting firewoods to be sold in the market place. It was not an easy task for my grandpa as a person who had never done such hard manual work in his life to start earning a living from this kind of work. Firewoods in bundles of two need to be carried with a long stick on a shoulder, to be brought in to kitchen, stacked and arranged properly, before the wage was paid.
Life was not easy when my grandparents had more children and I was told then the Japanese had offered salary in advance to build railways from Malaysia to Thailand. My grandpa accepted the money offer but after subsequent discussion with my grandma, had made the wise decision of returning the money to the Japanese authority. And he was fortunate enough not to participate in the deadly railway project, history had revealed that there were little survivors! My grandma did a great job in persuading my grandpa on this, she mentioned that no matter what hardship, through the thick and thin, she wanted a family to be always together.
Things got better when my father and his sister (My aunt) were amongst the first to learn how to tap rubbers to collect latex, and they earned a very good living by the standard then because few knew the technique of mastering the skill of tapping rubbers. Of course, the skill was later learned by many others. My grandpa also worked in the tin mines half way between Mambang Diawan and Kampar, it was supposed to be owned by a French company.
My grandpa after work from the tin mine would cycle all the way to Kampar and bought me Angel fish and gold fish! That was really a distance after a hard day work. Come to think of his act at this age, I am still touched by his great love for us as his grand children; he is always the greatest grandfather!
He was sick and always dozed off near the side door of the house near to his room. He suffered pain and took on opium to relieve the pain and subsequently was admitted to Tapah hospital. When the hospital informed us that there was no more hope for him to live on, my family engaged a truck to take him back home when his life supporting system was pulled off upon leaving the hospital.
That was the saddest and most sorrowful moment of my life as a kid. And that was also the first funeral that was held in my family! I saw my father cried the first time in my life on the day when my grandpa body was proceeding to the burial ground! All these happened as though it was just yesterday!
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