Daddy's Girl

My mum asked me some three weeks ago "Why are you closer to your Baba than me?" I was taken aback and for a few seconds, I couldn't answer her. Seeing that I did not give any reply, she continued "All your other three siblings are closer to me, why aren't you?". To answer her, I laughed and responded " Waa.. that's tamak. Are't three enough? You want me in your "close" book too?" With that, both of us were laughing and we did not approach the subject anymore.

But, that kept me thinking. Yes. I am my Baba's daughter. It was his advise I sought when I am in any trouble, it was his soothing voice I wanted to hear to calm me down when I was far away from home and things did not go the way I wanted them to be, it was him I asked for when I called and it was him I'm eager to meet once I reached home.

Why? You may wonder. Well, I could not answer that for sure. There is nothing wrong with my mum - except for her strict and firm nature, she is like any other mum who love and care for their offsprings.

My Baba is very special to me. He's always ready to listen - no matter how silly, to lend a helping hand, to discuss, to give advice when requested, never raising his voice and above all - never judge. He's there to listen to my sorrow, there to celebrate my happiness.

My Baba is also a very cool and level headed person - he takes time to listen and digest whatever was told to him, he takes time to think things over before making his comments or decisions - such I found him much easier to talk to (than my Mum), our opinions may differ but he will not try to change my views to suit his; he encouraged debates between us (with or without other siblings) - our dining table is never quiet - there is always something to "discuss"/"debate"/"argue" about. Though I am the youngest I was never left out. My "two cents" count.

My Baba's friends are multi-racial. His closest, I remember is Mr Devan. They still visited each other way after they stopped teaching at the same school. There was also Uncle "Gemuk", Uncle A Kow and of course his peers in and around the kampung. He is never a racist.

My Baba is the kind of person who when asked to bring back satay from his meeting in town will bring back not just any satay but the best satay that he can find no matter how out of the way it is. That's just how he is.

He's always willing to help other people too without thinking of his own situation. Put it this way, if he has RM15 left in his pocket to buy something that we need, and along the way came a person asking for help, telling him that he needed some money to buy some medicine for his sick child, my Baba will selflessly give all the money that he has. You may wonder - couldn't he just give part of his money? But that's my Baba - which sometimes created some tense in our household.

One talent of his which I do not have running through my vein (which I wish I have) is his musical talent. Though he could not read the musical notes but give him any instrument - he'll play it beautifully. He can play guitar, piano, organ, sexaphone, drums - you name it. And he is also very good with language. A very fast learner with good memory.

My Baba passed away in 1999. For weeks I did not go back to visit my Mum - it is too painful to look at his favourite armchair empty without him, too painful to no longer be able to listen to his happy welcoming voice, too painful to look at his empty chair at the dining table and above all to not be able to hug him and tell him that I love him. It is even too painful to past by the mosque where he used to preach 3 times a week without fail even when his health is failing - "I have to show up, if not they will think that I am sick" that's what he will tell my Mum if urged not to go - he rarely disappoint his "students" at the mosque.

Well, that's my story. Of my Baba. I thank the Al-Mighty for "Lending" me such a father. I never regret it when He took him away. Al- Fatihah....

For those of you who still have your Dad, do appreciate them, spend some time with them cause you will never know how much longer you will still have them, talk to them, tell them you love them and while doing so, forgive and forget,...