I Love You My Brother :)

#true story

I met my brother today. The second of the bunch, he is always my favourite. No that's wrong. I love all my brothers. Equally. Umar Hakimi, Muhammad Aliff Saddiqin, Harris Buqhary, Nabiel Muzammil and Adam Mikhael. Anyway seeing Umar at Gurney today after 2 weeks of (me and him) not being home still made my day.

The sight of him, all thin and small and frail made me happy. He left home two weeks ago for some PLKN programme in Pahang and made his way to Penang, and Ummi hadn't heard from him since then. For Ummi, I arranged for a meeting with him today. One glance of his bald head and I wanted to cry already.

We met at Gurney food court, hung out and talked for a while(by "talked" here I mean scolding him for not going home in Ipoh and making Ummi worried as hell) and beating the shit out of him, punching him and pinching his arms (that's how we express our love) only to find how skinny my little brother is.

I called Ummi the moment I finally met him, and Ummi cried. That's typical of Ummi, always nervous, always anxious, always worried. She once freaked out and called Agnes and cried because I didn't call her for 2 days. Mothers are always like that, no matter how old you are, 21, 19, she will still worry. A lot.

Back to my brother, we camwhored a bit, took some pictures of ourselves (as children we were photographed a lot) and walked around Gurney with him trying to make me sponsor him SUB, Padini, Topman, Jefferson, all ignored by me. He told me he is just hanging around in his friend's place here in Penang simply because "good ol God-forsaken Ipoh is too boring." I told him to go home many times, but he just won't as yet.

I decided to treat him dinner and knowing my brother and the monster he has in his stomach, I was prepared to splurge for him. Eat all you want, I told him as we were browsing through the likes of satay, pasembur, sup gearbox, and whatchamacallit you-name-it-we-got-it. 

To my surprise he went for a humble nasi ayam (chicken rice, duhh) for only 3 bucks. So not my brother, I thought as I wolfed down the pasembur with Agnes Ann.

Then came this beggar, in his 40s, limping from some leg injury but I thought, whatever, even he could get a job somewhere. He went from table to table. When he reached ours, I looked away, but my penniless, broke, jobless little brother who sort of ran away from home, reached for his pockets and  gave the man all the coins that he had. 

I was appalled. Flabbergasted. Shocked. Most of all, ashamed. 

There he was, jobless. He couldn't possibly have much And I had 4k in my bank account just last month. And I didn't even give a dollar to a man limping simply because I think he is capable enough of landing a job.

What does that make me?

The night ended when my brother and his friend decided to head home in Teluk Kumbar. I hugged him and almost cried, but I didn't  (Thank God!) because its very soppy, I didn't  want to ruin my eye make-up and the guy across the table was looking at me *vain*

I love you brother. I am sure all the hardship, all the life in Penang  that you are going through is giving you a different perspective in life. I want to tell you to go home, but even if you won't, I take it for granted that you will take good care of yourself. Be good.

Love, your Along.