“Do not pray for an easy life, pray for the strength to endure a difficult one…” - Bruce Lee
My Abah was born in 1927. He is the 3rd of siblings of 4 girls and 3 boys. He came from a poor family. Being the eldest boy in the family he shouldered heavy responsibilities. During his younger days, he helped tapping rubber trees at nearby estates and helped in the sawah during planting and harvesting seasons and received a small upah for his work.
Once in a while he helped his mother, who was a dukun, to prepare portions of herbs for those who came to their house to seek treatment. His mother learned the skills from his grand-father, Pawang Sidon. According to my Abah, Pawang Sidon was quite famous during his time. My Abah inherited the skills but very seldom practice them unless asked. I remember when I was small, we never go to hospital if we were sick. Abah will jampi a glass of water and we drink it and go to sleep. The next day, when we woke up, we were ok, up and running. Either, the jampi was mujarab or we just didn’t have money to go to clinic for medicines… I want to believe both.
Because he was always busy helping his parents, taking care of his siblings, very often he played truant and skipped school. By the time the Japanese occupied Malaya, he dropped school and worked in the rubber estate. Once in a while my Abah and his friends crossed path with Japanese soldiers and once in a while they got slapped because they forgot to bow low. After the 2nd world war, life was better for my Abah. He got married to my Mak, who came from a well-to-do family. It was an arranged marriage. He was a preferred choice over many other suitors because he was well-known in his kampong for Quran reciting and berzanji. My parents have been married for almost 60 years now. According to my Mak, my Abah was a very handsome man when he was young. A loving husband and a good father to his children. And I believe her.
I never wish my Abah on Father’s Day. But I think he knows that I love him so very much.
A father is neither an anchor to hold us back,
Nor a sail to take us there,
But a guiding light whose love shows us the way
Nor a sail to take us there,
But a guiding light whose love shows us the way
To all the fathers in the world
HaPpY FaThEr's DaY
Kak Nong, it is so lovely..
ReplyDeleteAM,
ReplyDeleteMake me rindu my Abah. I am going to see Abah & Mak this coming weekend. Yeay...
Nong...very nice entry especially those last words...very meaningful...
ReplyDeleteSamalah macam lady...tak pernah ucap selamat hari bapa...tapi dia tau yang kami menyayanginya
zino tak ucap hari bapa dengan ayah.. baru jumpa mereka (ayah/mak)sabtu lepas.. tapi zino sangat hormat dan sayang mereka berdua..
ReplyDeletea wonderful poem..a lovely writing.. :0)
ReplyDeleteLady & Zino,
ReplyDeleteWe do not have to wait until Father’s or Mother’s Days or special occasions to remind our parents how much they mean to us. It is the love thought that counts.
Hold them close to our hearts because we might wake up one day and realize that they’re gone forever...
Simah,
ReplyDeleteNow my Abah is old and frail,but he still recalls those olden days...
The recollection of that fun rides on his old 'basikal unta' around the block on hot sweaty nights when I was a child did wonders for me as an adult...
I guess I can also call you Kak Nong?
ReplyDeleteOur fathers will always remain the hero in our eyes, no matter what.
(Thanks for visiting my blog ... ni baru sempat nak letak comment kat yours) :)
QOTH,
ReplyDeleteMemang pangkat kakak pun. Okay lah tu kalau nak panggil Kak Nong.
Our father will always be our hero. It doesn't matter who he is. But it matters how we remember him.