Growing up fatherless, there are only vague and hazy images of how me dad was. Not his appearance, as I have countless of pictures of him. He remains the only guy who looks much more handsome than what i could possibly be. But memories of him are practically non existent. He passed away when I was barely a year and a few months old and all I have are just verbal whispers about me dad.

One of the items left at home is a season pass to the Kedah football stadium, as he was the physio for the team. Hence, as if genetically inscribed in my DNA, I do harbour the intentions of one day becoming the physio of the team. At least I could get free entrance to watch football games at the legendary football stadium. And who knows I might end up coaching? Hey, Jose Mourinho started off as a translator for Bobby Robson. You've got to start somewhere.

It's funny how people would rub me head when I was younger. Later on, I discovered that it was sort of a custom to perform such gesture to orphans.

Before I came to Russia, a doctor who conducted one of the check ups happened to be his friend. And so he told me, that usually, he and some other friends would take the ride together with me dad to get back to Alor Star from Sik (a couple of hours' journey) on me dad's Honda Accord, but on that fateful day, they had some other things to do and me dad drove back alone. The news of the accident came out in the newspaper and some of my friends' parents at primary school knew about it when i mentioned it to them.

And as a result, I never had the chance to feel the warmth of a father's hug or the satisfaction of a daddy's praise. But it's not that I'm complaining too much. Content is a virtue.

There are unluckier children who are born bastards. Not in a derogatory sense. Some not even knowing or will never even find out who their parents are, which is far more extreme than what I experienced. While there are others who were brought up in broken homes, witnessing the progress of bitter divorces of their parents.

I've been been compensated with the greatest woman who brought me up, the bionic woman, me Mama. Such a lucky guy, I am.

Now that I am thickened with maturity (I think so), I understand that it's something called fate. The river of life has taken its due course. My life could have taken a different route if me dad was still here.

Butterfly effect, ya dig it?

I bet all dads out there give their best efforts for their families, to get some food on the plates although they might not be as cool as you want them to be, or they might not spend so much time with you. So treasure your dads, give your old man a big hug or share a joke.

Happy father's day.

PS : Headache o headache, please go away.

2 comments:

Kamal said...

u know, im reading this post with an irish accent in my head, because the use of the word 'me' instead of 'my'. haha.

best of luck for ur exams dude, and may your dad's arwah be blessed by Him.

QifA said...

it was meant to be read in the scouse or Liverpool accent.haha

thanx Kamal. Good luck to u too

top