I knew a Nobita once.

I didn't have many friends that time when I was classmates with Koh Keat Lee.
I didn't write his full name on purpose, it's just that... that was what I called him. Koh Keat Lee.
Never Koh. Never Keat Lee. Always Kokietli.

We were very young, 6? 7?
Thank God for schools in Kajang during the mid-90's, we didn't change classes, so we were stuck with the same classmates from standard 1 till 6.

During my first few years in primary school, I had to endure mean comments, but Koh Keat Lee never said anything mean. Instead he shared with me his drawings.
Of Doraemon. So many of them. He loved Doraemon so much, he drew his own version of Doraemon into Buku Latihan, the typical ones we had. Brown cover. Thin paper with blue lines. 2B pencils.
When I say many, I meant a collection. Probably as many as Fujio's.
And his drawings were so good. It was exactly like Doraemon. I couldn't even draw a bunga raya that time.

Word got out one day that he was Nobita in the series, and I was Sizuka, and our friend Faiz was Giant.
I don't think it had any relation to the real Doraemon, but I was certainly a bit shy about being teased.

He moved to TTDI when we were 9? I think. or 10.
I never spoke to him since.
This March, a 'Jaymz Koh' added me as a friend on Facebook.
He didn't have a picture yet, but I knew it was him, so I approved and he asked if I still remembered him.
Of course I did. His artistic skills at the age of 7-9 was maaaad.
At that time I've always thought if his mother would scold him for drawing, because my mother would certainly.
She'd much rather have me indulge in science than honing my non-existent artistic skills.

I drew a series of Facebook no-picture pictures, and he said it was awesome.
So I drew him a Nobita, and felt flattered when he made it his profile picture.

He was also my neighbour when we lived in Kajang, and on his gate, he was the only person I knew that time to have had a blue letter box, the rest had typical red ones. His had 'Polis' written on it.
And I always thought the letter box weren't theirs, that they found it and decided to use it or something. I never knew Chinese people could become policemen. Really.

Sigh. And now he's gone.
I cannot stop imagining the pain and... as morbid as this sounds, how he felt the time flames ate him alive.
And the heat, too much for the body to bear, too much that the heart and brain function ceased and in other words, he died.
To lose complete, complete consciousness. This is not a REM sleep, or a non REM, this is losing... consciousness.
That thing. That life. Dying.
Giving up. Organs giving up. And dying.

Sigh.