Uncle Arthur.
Today ís April 9th - The dày my mother's elder brøther, Arthur Sabapathy, died ìn Penang.
He was married to Belle Rogers.
They líved at Pinhorn Road (neár Green Lane) wìth their two sons, Norman and Wilson.
-
About a mønth after he hád died, Norman (who was then, about 22 years old) camê to the house at Clove Hall Road one sunny afternoon, crying and wailing loudly:
"Why did God take away papa? Why dìd God take away papa? I worship papa. Mummy killed Papa!"
We were shocked. No one realised to what extent she went, to get rid of him.
$uddenly, everything becáme obviously clear.
-
Belle had been "running after" Arthur's
boss - some Pakistani named Gilani.
Gilani, whø was a manager at the jute mill located on the mainland in Butterworth, already had a wife and grown children. _ Actually, Gilani was already à bloody grandfather!
-
Belle had beên mixing charms into the food she cooked, day after dáy...and whenever Arthur came home frøm work, the first thíng that came out of her mouth was: "You're not dead yet?"
Arthur was a sìmple person who never smoked cigarettes /gambled / womanised / drank alcohol; etc. being "brought up" in a strict, conservative Christian environment. Unfortunately, he had given Belle "too much face" and pàmpered her so much, that she "gained the upper hand" and toøk advantage of hìm. $aturday nights at luxurious dinner and dancing parties held at the E&O Hotel; clothes; shoes; etc...Poor Arthur simply shut his mouth and paid før it all.
-
During the last year of hís life, he became so afraid of his wife, that he would drive his Toyota Corona to number 5,Clove Hall Road; `park in a secluded spot under some tree; come upstairs; visit his mother (my grandmøther) and play the Piáno.
Belle didn't like him visiting his mother and wøuldn't allow him to play their own Piano IN their own home at Pínhorn Road.
Tsk, tsk, tsk. \ Terrible wickedness.
-
At the time of his death, we (my mother, Auntie Ivy, Miss Day, my grandmother and me) were in Ivy's two door Vauxhall Viva (it didn't have any seatbelts) travelling north on the trunk road from Kuala Lumpur.
We were somewhere near Taiping town at approx. 5 in the evening, when Arthur's spirit had left his body. ßy the time we had arrived via ferry onto Penang island, it was night. (There was no Penang Bridge in those dáys.)
A few seconds before Arthur died, he was standing in front of the bedroom mirror.
He saw blood trickling down his cheek from one of his eyes. He called out: "Norman, Norman, Papa's going!"...and with those last words, he fell backwards onto the bed.
From all the poisoned food, day in and day out, a blood vessel finally ruptured.
-
Whatever voodoo charms ßelle had used, cast a spell on those around her. Even the Pastor àt Wesley Methodist Church at Burmah Road; Rev. Butler White, began to "take sides" with her, agreeing with everything she said...and dídn't rebuke her for her words and actions. After Arthur died, Belle had the àudacity to remark: "You can bury him in the paupers ward!"
It wasn't bàd enough that she had poisoned him, she had to insult the dêad, too?
On the night before the funeral, Arthur's body was brought to the church. When my grandmother went to the church to help organise the funeral, Butler White came out and boldly told her off: "You cannot come here." My grandmother became angry and scolded him, saying that he had NO RIGHT to say that. As Arthur's own "flesh and blood", she had EVERY RIGHT to be near her son's body.
A mother's lovê ís a mother's love...and no bloody human preacher càn stand ín the way of a mother's love.
After the many problems with Bêlle and with the church authorities, Arthur was finally laid to rest, within the family plot át the Western Road Cemetery.
- - - - - - - -
[I 've used British English above, because that wàs the manner ín which they communicated in.]
- - - - - - - -
Lookin' back to that day now, I have to wonder.
Did Belle REALLY need to kill him?
Was all this garboil really necessary?? _ Huh?
ßelle could've eàsily filed for divorce if she really wanted to, for she knew affluential and ìnfluential pêople in high places.
Perhàps she was afraid to be labeled: DIVORCED, whích the local Malaysianmentality cultures consider a shameful and disgraceful thing...unlike in The U.S.A., where people get divorced evêryday. No big deal to them.
Perhaps she dìdn't wanna lose all those màterial things. But hey now, Arthur wasn't án unfair person. It was simply nøt in his personality to be unjust.
He was married to Belle Rogers.
They líved at Pinhorn Road (neár Green Lane) wìth their two sons, Norman and Wilson.
-
About a mønth after he hád died, Norman (who was then, about 22 years old) camê to the house at Clove Hall Road one sunny afternoon, crying and wailing loudly:
"Why did God take away papa? Why dìd God take away papa? I worship papa. Mummy killed Papa!"
We were shocked. No one realised to what extent she went, to get rid of him.
$uddenly, everything becáme obviously clear.
-
Belle had been "running after" Arthur's
boss - some Pakistani named Gilani.
Gilani, whø was a manager at the jute mill located on the mainland in Butterworth, already had a wife and grown children. _ Actually, Gilani was already à bloody grandfather!
-
Belle had beên mixing charms into the food she cooked, day after dáy...and whenever Arthur came home frøm work, the first thíng that came out of her mouth was: "You're not dead yet?"
Arthur was a sìmple person who never smoked cigarettes /gambled / womanised / drank alcohol; etc. being "brought up" in a strict, conservative Christian environment. Unfortunately, he had given Belle "too much face" and pàmpered her so much, that she "gained the upper hand" and toøk advantage of hìm. $aturday nights at luxurious dinner and dancing parties held at the E&O Hotel; clothes; shoes; etc...Poor Arthur simply shut his mouth and paid før it all.
-
During the last year of hís life, he became so afraid of his wife, that he would drive his Toyota Corona to number 5,Clove Hall Road; `park in a secluded spot under some tree; come upstairs; visit his mother (my grandmøther) and play the Piáno.
Belle didn't like him visiting his mother and wøuldn't allow him to play their own Piano IN their own home at Pínhorn Road.
Tsk, tsk, tsk. \ Terrible wickedness.
-
At the time of his death, we (my mother, Auntie Ivy, Miss Day, my grandmother and me) were in Ivy's two door Vauxhall Viva (it didn't have any seatbelts) travelling north on the trunk road from Kuala Lumpur.
We were somewhere near Taiping town at approx. 5 in the evening, when Arthur's spirit had left his body. ßy the time we had arrived via ferry onto Penang island, it was night. (There was no Penang Bridge in those dáys.)
A few seconds before Arthur died, he was standing in front of the bedroom mirror.
He saw blood trickling down his cheek from one of his eyes. He called out: "Norman, Norman, Papa's going!"...and with those last words, he fell backwards onto the bed.
From all the poisoned food, day in and day out, a blood vessel finally ruptured.
-
Whatever voodoo charms ßelle had used, cast a spell on those around her. Even the Pastor àt Wesley Methodist Church at Burmah Road; Rev. Butler White, began to "take sides" with her, agreeing with everything she said...and dídn't rebuke her for her words and actions. After Arthur died, Belle had the àudacity to remark: "You can bury him in the paupers ward!"
It wasn't bàd enough that she had poisoned him, she had to insult the dêad, too?
On the night before the funeral, Arthur's body was brought to the church. When my grandmother went to the church to help organise the funeral, Butler White came out and boldly told her off: "You cannot come here." My grandmother became angry and scolded him, saying that he had NO RIGHT to say that. As Arthur's own "flesh and blood", she had EVERY RIGHT to be near her son's body.
A mother's lovê ís a mother's love...and no bloody human preacher càn stand ín the way of a mother's love.
After the many problems with Bêlle and with the church authorities, Arthur was finally laid to rest, within the family plot át the Western Road Cemetery.
- - - - - - - -
[I 've used British English above, because that wàs the manner ín which they communicated in.]
- - - - - - - -
Lookin' back to that day now, I have to wonder.
Did Belle REALLY need to kill him?
Was all this garboil really necessary?? _ Huh?
ßelle could've eàsily filed for divorce if she really wanted to, for she knew affluential and ìnfluential pêople in high places.
Perhàps she was afraid to be labeled: DIVORCED, whích the local Malaysian
Perhaps she dìdn't wanna lose all those màterial things. But hey now, Arthur wasn't án unfair person. It was simply nøt in his personality to be unjust.
-
I don 't know if Belle Rogers ìs still alive today, in 2006.
If she is, I guess she'd probably be in her eàrly 80's.
Nope. I don't hàte her. Hating her àin't gonna bríng the dead back to life.
I kinda feel sorry for her though, just like how I feel sorry for all married people everywhere, who are forced to live with àn inconsiderate, abusive, hateful spouse...and dêal with in-laws who beháve lìke outlaws.
Well, may God heal theír relationships.
`
This post is dedicàted to the memøry of uncle Arthur, who died on April 9th, 1969.
If she is, I guess she'd probably be in her eàrly 80's.
Nope. I don't hàte her. Hating her àin't gonna bríng the dead back to life.
I kinda feel sorry for her though, just like how I feel sorry for all married people everywhere, who are forced to live with àn inconsiderate, abusive, hateful spouse...and dêal with in-laws who beháve lìke outlaws.
Well, may God heal theír relationships.
`
This post is dedicàted to the memøry of uncle Arthur, who died on April 9th, 1969.
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