Article by JJRay below taken from Malaysiakini - http://www.malaysiakini.com/opinions/83993
We were supposed to get down to having coffee, something which we both kept postponing because of our respective schedules. And that coffee affair will never take place for that friend, Toni Kasim, is no longer in our midst.
Toni or Zaitun Kasim, a noted human rights activist, passed away on Wednesday (June 4) at 5am at her sister’s house at Taman Mesra, Batu Tiga in Shah Alam after a bout with duodenal cancer over the past few months. She was 41.
When news reached me that she was no more, I was shocked, unable to accept the fact that she was indeed gone. Whilst we her friends knew the grim prognosis, being the typical mortals that we are, deep in our hearts we silently prayed for a miracle to happen. It never did.I met Toni for the last time early this year and at that point she was not yet diagnosed with the cancer. But she was terrified and with tears in her eyes said to me “I don’t want to die”. I did not know what to say so I held her hands and encouraged her to fight the cancer.
She was tired of fighting the pain, she told me. I could sense her anger at being bed-ridden, confined for a period of time in hospital and not being able to do what she loved best – work.
“I can’t wait to get back to work. It’s what keeps me going,” she shared.
Praying for her swift healing
But the cancer which spread very quickly left her tired, so tired and in pain that at one point she decided not to accept visitors. Maybe she was tired of trying to not to be tired. Text messages sent through mobile phones to her often went unanswered but her friends knew why and respected her decision to be left alone.
We each tried helping in whatever way we could. Some stood vigil at the hospital, helping her in and out of bed while others prayed for her, sending her reiki, praying for her swift healing.
But reality was harsh, in that Toni was fighting against time. While we all realised that just too well, we still prayed for a miracle.
Life is transient and so it was with our friend Zaitun, better known to all of us as Toni. Tears flowed down our cheeks as we, her near and dear ones, visited her for the last time at the mosque in Shah Alam where she was being readied for burial. While she finally found respite from her suffering, it tore our hearts to see a friend, always zestful and hard working, lay sound asleep. There was nothing left to do. Tears flowed and continue to flow.
Watching her at the mosque for the last time brought back memories of how we first met. I was attending a workshop organised by Sisters in Islam, an outfit that Toni worked with several years ago. I had walked into the room while a session was on and as I sheepishly took my seat, Toni, who was seated across me got up, extended her hand and said “Hi, I’m Toni Kasim”.
I liked her style, her ability to not let people dictate how she should behave and what she should say. She followed her heart and maybe that is why she was adored by her friends.
Post- workshop, she gave me a ride back and while in the car we chatted further. I found out we were once school mates and her sister Aishah and mine used to be classmates while her father was the manager of the bank where my father worked at. Although it has been many years I can still recall the day when my sister had informed us that Aishah and Toni’s father, Encik Kasim as we addressed him, had passed away due to a heart attack.
Talking to Toni was always nice. She had the gift of making people comfortable, of wanting to talk without inhibitions. That we will now miss sorely.
From then on, I never failed to “harass” her whenever I needed comments for stories I was pursuing. She complained to me once that the press had a tendency to misquote her so she decided to refrain from giving comments. I promised her no such problem would occur in my case. Once she had given me her comments, I would read them out to her or summarise her views, and voila! She became my favourite contact.
Her passion for life never ceased to amaze me. She believed in living life to the fullest and being young at heart. I remember wishing her happy birthday when she turned 39 and she replied: “I wish to be young forever…”.
As I write, tears swell up...
Due to her work commitments and mine, we never actually got down to meeting for a chat. It was always a work-related meeting and while coffee was always on the menu, we were never able to get down to doing it. We took things for granted. I think we instead took life for granted and kept postponing the coffee meet. That I regret very much.
There were moments when I was tempted to call her up and ask how she was doing. But fearing that I would be disturbing her process of recuperation, I never did call her up after she was discharged from hospital and stayed at her sister’s to rest. Once or twice, she did reply to my SMS’. And I left it at that, somehow naively believing all would be well.
I write this tribute six hours after Toni’s burial took place. Once I got back from the burial ground, I took a shower and when I finally sat down on the sofa, I broke down. I cried because I would miss a dear friend who made it a point to help whenever she could. I cried because I felt helpless watching a dear friend die. I cried because I wanted her to get up and say, “Hi, I’m Toni Kasim”.
As I write, tears swell up because I realise Toni Kasim will always be missed. While I allowed tears to unveil my grief, I looked at the weather turning foul, the blinding lightning, the deafening claps of thunder and a heavy downpour accompanying my grief and the grief of all those whose hearts Toni had touched.
For some strange reason, I wished I could go wake her up from her eternal place of rest and ask her to treat me to that coffee that she had promised. And I would only be too happy to continue “harassing” her for comments because I knew she enjoyed speaking her mind and I enjoyed talking to an individual who always could speak her mind. Never mind that she took a knock at me once for not being “visible” in supporting the issues that I wrote about. That was Toni Kasim!
As I write this tribute, I notice the sunset is extremely beautiful today. It had rained cats and dogs for over two hours and now the sun too says adieu, flashing its rays of hope beautifully for the arrival of yet another day. Toni, wherever you may be, know that we will continue where you have left, our dream being the same, to make the world a home for one and all.
Toni, we will always remember you.
May your soul rest in place, Toni. Al-Fatihah.
No comments:
Post a Comment