My dad had his faults but despite he’s seemingly rough exterior, he is a very, very kind person. He is usually gruff, sarcastic and short to people (only to adults, he loves the children). He is never mean though. His jests about, usually made in good fun. He never meant to hurt, but being very honest, he has of course, step a few toes in his life.
Most of the time, we were not in the know what he did to help which Polan. We would just know of his kindness later, sometimes, much too late.
He once gave RM50 when he just had less than RM60 in his pocket to his friend. “Because he had a young child and that kid needs milk.” My dad explained.
He would always buy his family and friends meals whenever he had extra (in his later years, he had little) – a few months before he passed, he kept buying Musang King durians just because I mentioned in passing that I liked it. He would always cook for my friends. He always give RM2 to the OKU petrol pump attendant who helped out at the Shell station near our house. He buys breakfast and send our lauks to the guards.
He is always thinking of the people that are seemingly unimportant in our lives – the security guards, the pump attendants, the Indonesian bricklayers.
When he left us, incidentally, on a Friday like today, I thought I’d do him justice by following his footsteps.
I mean, I’ve already gotten a head start. I too, am headstrong, sarcastic, glib to the extend of getting a “Kakak Tiri” moniker at the office and gruff (especially Before Coffee). I might as well emulate his redeeming qualities.
So I try to continue his deeds where I can.
Thank you, Ayah. Al-Fatihah.