Friday, July 3, 2015


Talking about my father will always bring tears to my eyes. Happy tears, mostly.

I have always been fond of my dad. He's one of a kind. I mean I know every children would say the same thing about their dads, right? But really. Mine is one of a kind. My family and friends can confirm that.

He's super scary strict but super funny when he's chill. He is a perfectionist, very protective, meticulous, not flexible and though that sounds like a burden, but I do not see it like that. I actually do not think that it's a bad thing. I'm glad that my dad has been strict with me. Wallahualam I can't imagine how things would be had he didn't take charge from the very beginning. I wouldn't be like who I am now, for sure.

My relationship with my father has been really, really close ever since I was little. Probably because I was the eldest, the long-awaited firstborn. I had the greatest memories as a child raised by my dad. For instance;

He took us for a walk at the football field and taught us what mimosa pudica (daun semalu) was by asking us to touch the shy leaves.

He took us for a return train ride from KRU-Sentul when the KTM started its operation. We didn't get off anywhere, just stayed onboard and chatted all the way.

He dressed us identically to avoid us getting mixed up with other kids (lol) and designed all of our baju rayas by himself. He has the greatest fashion sense, hands down.

He greeted us with salaam and kissed our foreheads when waking us up in the mornings.

He always sang lullabies and Malay folk songs where I find it very interesting because I couldn't hear the songs elsewhere. My dad is a great singer, he often brags about how he won various singing competition during his college days!

He cooks wonderfully, Nasi Tomato is his specialty. In fact it was him who taught me the do's and don'ts tips in cooking. Sadly he doesn't cook often now, saying that it's his daughters turn to cook for him.

He never, ever lay his hands on or cane us as punishments. I often got scolded, or was forced to memorize arithmetical table instead.

He often wrote us cards for every occasions. Birthdays, good lucks, congratulations, just becauses.. I usually look forward to his cards after I passed exams with flying colors or on my birthdays because his words of encouragements meant a lot more than gifts or cash. I still do.

...and the list goes on and on and on.

I admit that in recent years, we had arguments along the way but I believe that arguments help us to understand each other better, eventually. My dad and I - we rarely, or never - express our feelings out loud. We keep things straighforward and simple. We don't even say 'I love you' on our faces. Ego? Or just shy? Our actions matter, not just expressions. But in our hearts, I hope that he knows that I love him so very much and I wouldn't be who I am today had it not been for his efforts.

Happy birthday, abah!! I couldn't thank you enough. Only Allah can repay all the greatest things you have showered us all these years. May you be blessed with health, wealth, success, happiness, peacefulness and istiqamah, aamiin. 

I could talk about my dad for days. Perhaps in another post. 

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