Gone but never forgotten...

Feeling reminiscent, I looked through some of the photos posted by my friends on Facebook. Some funny, all nostalgic and all made me smile. But what really touched my heart is the picture below, which my sister uploaded.

From Left to Right: Haji Masri Haji Mat Salleh (nini laki - maternal grandfather), me and Allahyarham PSR Pg Hj Jaya Pg Hj Rajid (nini bapa - paternal grandfather)

Pengiran Setia Raja Pengiran Haji Jaya bin Pengiran Haji Rajid was a decorated national hero - serving in the Ninth Batallion during the Japanese Occupation giving the greenlight to the Australian Forces to come into our shores and I remember my maternal grandpa telling me that if it wasn't for him the 1962 Civil War wouldn't have been avoided. He was a cheteria, the first Bruneian Police High Commissioner and ambassador-at-large for the nation until retiring in 1998. But to me, he was more than that. He was not just a grandfather to me, he was my hero, he was my role model but most importantly he was my friend.

Picture looks familiar? Gramps pictured fourth from bottom right. He was a ruggedly handsome man.

He was always there for me since I was born, giving me the name 'Saiful' as all my other male cousins were. He gave my parents his house so that me and my future sister could be raised in, of course at that time serving as an ambassador for the nation in Kuala Lumpur he did not require a house. He always welcomed us to wherever he was, be it in KL or Bangkok. When my mother's tenure in her UK posting ended, he let us stay with him and my grandmother while we waited for our house to be finished. Then during my formative years, he would always bring me to the Friday prayers where we would always be sitting in the front. He gave me first weekly allowance (which I have never told anyone) of $10 a week for almost ten years, until he was not able to go to the Friday Prayers anymore. Whenever I slept over, before sleeping he would always tell me (and sometimes my sister) stories of his past experiences.

It's been awhile now since my grandfather passed away - 6 months actually. Sadly, I wasn't there to be with him in his last few moments with us as I was in the UK. The final time I was with him was on the day that I left to the UK. We were at home reciting the doa selamat before heading off to the airport. The exact words that he said to me while I hugged him in tears was: "Don't cry. We'll meet again." That of course did not come to fruition. Never a day passes without me thinking about him. The man whose blood run in my veins. The man who is a part of my long name. The loving man who will always be loved. The man whom I will always try to become. The man who, if was still alive, would be 85 today.

Happy Birthday Gramps. Bahri loves and miss you always ='D