Yasmin, you always make me cry. When you showed us a man promising his late dad to recite thousands more al-Fatihah "at no cost", I stood up and went to the bathroom to cry. Then in 2001, when you showed us a boy, still joyful after his father's return from sea, praying for the same for the kids he sees on TV, tears ran down my cheeks and I jumped out so no one could see. The following year on Deepavali you portrayed one Raju-annei sacrificing his youth so that his siblings could live well, I sobbed in the shower until my eyes swell. You always make me cry. Yes, I purposely use the present tense "make" because no matter how many times I watch those minute-long essence of life you bestowed upon us, I will cry. I do because you touch the core of my values and humanity. Your subtle yet provocative have, in more ways than one, made me a better son, better brother, better uncle, better citizen and a better Malaysian. I may have not known you if person, Yasmin, but you are such a tear jerker. And thank you for that. For you Yasmin: al-Fatihah and rest well
