Sunday 21 June 2015

In Loving Memory ... Bapak (1911 - 1982)

"To the world,
You may be one person,
but to me...
You are the world."

How apt. They say a daughter's first love is her father. I guess depends on the relationship between father and daughter.  Bapak has 9 daughters with Mak. Out of these 9 lovely girls, I was the closest and "manja" with him. Actually, when we were younger, he was just Bapak. An authority figure who always worked at his special table where he drew plans of houses. He was a draughtsman. Back then, there was no such thing as a photostat machine. There was a special paper where you drew the plan and laid them carefully in a special sort of covered rectangle thin box, poured a certain liquid gently over it ( I could not recall what the chemical was but it certainly had a strong smell) and held it facing the sun for about half an hour. The paper would slowly turn a bluish colour from the heat of the sun. I usually had this task as the other sisters refused to stand in the hot sun and got burnt. When Bapak was at his table, none of us would dare make any noise near it or go near it or touch any of his equipment on it. There were all types and shapes of rulers. Special pencils and stationery that should attract curious kids. But not us. One "ahem" from him and we would run helter- skelter up the stairs or hide at the attic.

As I grew up in my teens, my older sisters and brothers started to move out to college or work elsewhere. I became his handyman. There were no boys around to help out with whatever he wanted to have done. He would take me everywhere with him whether I liked it or not. Maybe that was how I was trained to be patient and made the best of the situation. I was also given a lot of leeway where my older sisters did not get. I was allowed to have male friends to the house. I was allowed to stay back after school for curriculum activities. I was allowed to take the public bus to school. I was allowed to go on trips organised by the school. By the time I was in Form 6, I was allowed out on my own. Thus, I guess I learned to be independent and brave.

His sense of fairness. His respect for my mother and his daughters. His love for us. His authority. His discipline. His sense of responsibility and commitment. His knowledge as he loved to read. His patience. His way of pampering us with the little means that he has. His stubbornness. His honour. His word. His promises. His smile. His good-looks. His sense of humour. His values. Although I was never at the end of his wrath, we all were aware of his temper. Mak used to say that I was so much like him. I considered that a compliment.

I used to talk and discussed about things with him. He would listen and never undermined your ambitions or wishes. He celebrated every single achievement and success be it big or small. He never forgot any of our birthdays. He recorded everything that happened in each and every one of his children's lives ...  

I could go on and on writing about him. Today is Father's Day (21 June 2015). I am nostalgic and thinking of him and Mak. Maybe it is Ramadhan. Thus, they are somewhere near us. I dreamt of them at the old house again on the first of Ramadhan. Always the old house in Peringgit. I guess the house always reminded me the sense of security, love and a sense of belonging. It gives me a sense of peace and happiness. I did not enter the house but I knew they were both in it. Just the feel good feeling that they were there - safe and shielded. It is not easy to put it in words. Last holidays I did not get the opportunity to visit their graves as it was raining. Yet, I know that they know I am thinking of them and always have them in my prayers everyday.

I miss them .... both so wise, so much love for us and always thinking of us. Rest in peace.
Al-Fatihah.

Happy Father's Day to the father of my sons, to my brothers who are fathers, to my brothers-in-law, to my old friend, to all my male friends who are fathers too ... the question is - what have you left your children with? I am what I am because the basic necessities to become me has been instilled be Bapak. Hope all of you fathers have done the best that you can do ..... in shaa Allah. In our children, do we trust our future generation .....





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