The Birthday That's Waiting
Sunday, May 24, 2026 at 8:13PM 
Please click the photo above to play the daily videoIt's Idlan's birthday today, though you wouldn't know it from the celebrations — or rather, the deliberate absence of them. He's decided to hold off until next week when Irfan is back from London, which is either admirably patient or a shrewd negotiation for two rounds of attention. Either way, there's something rather lovely about a birthday that insists on being complete before it begins. The cake can wait. The brother cannot.
I started rounds early, the kind of Saturday morning where you're in and moving before the hospital has fully woken up. There's a stillness to weekend wards that weekdays never quite manage — fewer footsteps, fewer phones, the corridors carrying a different quality of quiet. Everything done and dusted in good time, which left me free for a nine o'clock meeting at the Amari Hotel.
The meeting room had a view that included, somewhat surreally, our apartment. There's a peculiar feeling in looking out of a conference window and being able to identify your own balcony. You're simultaneously at work and, in some visual sense, at home. The meeting itself ran through until lunch — one of those extended sessions that covers enough ground to justify the hours but still leaves you feeling like you've run a gentle marathon. By the time it wrapped, the tiredness I'd been outrunning all week finally caught up.
A nap. Unapologetic and necessary. I gave myself over to it completely, the kind of early afternoon sleep that feels almost medicinal. And then, as if the city had been waiting for me to close my eyes, the rain came. Properly, emphatically, in that way KL does when it decides to remind you that this is still the tropics. Heavy sheets of it against the windows, the sound both dramatic and oddly soothing. You don't fight rain like that. You just let it have its say.
Once it eased, we drove out to Melawati for the pasar malam. Saturday evening markets have their own particular magic — the smoke from the grills, the clusters of people moving slowly between stalls, the impossible variety of things you didn't know you wanted until they were right in front of you. We browsed, we bought, we did what you do at a pasar malam, which is essentially eat your way from one end to the other with varying degrees of restraint.
Then the phone rang. An admission, because the day wasn't quite finished with me yet. Back in I went, the evening rearranging itself around the call. These things happen, and you learn not to resent them — or at least to keep the resentment brief and productive.
Dinner was late but the mood was chilled. The house quiet, the rain a memory, the weekend still with one full day remaining. Idlan's uncelebrated birthday hovering gently in the background, a promise deferred. Next week, when the family is whole again, we'll do it properly.
Mixed Feelings
Idlan joined SSU - Sekolah Sri Utama - back in 2008 in kindergarten. He spent 3 years in pre-school before starting primary school, finishing off with his UPSR last year. He left a couple of weeks after the exam to join the school he is at now.
Irfan also joined as a 4-year-old back in 2010 and will be leaving in September. It looked like we would be completing our 9 year association with the school soon and I was there today to pay for Irfan’s term fees, which would eventually be the last for him. With that fee paid, it meant that this may be the last bit of business I would be doing with the school except for collecting the school bond when Irfan leaves later.
Over the years, it was clear that the school was heading for a decline. They were actually lucky as there were a number of schools nearby that had completely closed over the years. SSU was still surviving, but I fear for their future. The quality of the teachers had deteriorated. They had a number of headmasters recently, with one only just recently resigned. Most of the teachers were local - the last headmaster was Caucasian. With a PhD. I didn’t think that he was a perfect fit from day one.
One of my main gripe was the fact that the school do not have a Parents-Teachers Association. Dissemination of informations had been weak over the years, much to my frustration. And there were no avenue for us to voice our concerns. I did write a letter to the then headmaster when Idlan left, and he did reply back. From the tone of his email, I could sense that he was just as frustrated with the arrangement at the school.
The school Idlan - and later Irfan - would be moving to was way different to Sri Utama. They put a lot of emphasis on parents’ participation, their activities were great and Idlan had definitely moved on from. He was miserable in the last couple of years at Sri Utama. We told the teachers about that but unfortunately they weren’t at all interested.
I still have a soft spot for Sri Utama. It was convenient when we were living in Gombak before. Time has changed and the school had certainly been left behind .... We were still in contact with some of the teachers from yesteryears. They still remembered the two boys, and how they had grown over the years .... I still had the photo of Idlan’s first day at Sri Utama in 2008 framed on the wall at the house in Gombak.