The Words of Our Fathers

Ayah as I call him, usually gives short advises that make my ear glow red, sometimes for weeks and months. They are simple words yet bear the deepest meaning. I call it ayat-ayat berapi

Ayah is magnificent. I could not imagine how he grew up from a poor, rice farming family in Tunjang, Kedah with many siblings and thrived to give me what I had now. From a kampong boy which television and radio were barely available to a car driving man. I fondly remember ayah telling me that his first car was a Mazda 323 he got somewhen when he was 27. On 29, he purchased a land along Jalan Telok Wan Jah, Alor Star and constructed our little house. At 30, he married my mom. I do not mind what car model he bought, I wondered how he has this striving spirit to jump out of his little box of slumber. I could not imagine myself fully funding to acquire such vehicle let alone erect a house out of the bare soil.

Being in Kampung akin to being in total slumber. Espescially when farming season comes only twice a year. Other times were filled with societal activities held together amongst the kampong folks. Paddy is a fragile plantation, too much water they die and lacking of water they dry. If you ever been to Kedah, there will be a place in Jitra (further north of Alor Star) which areas were named ‘Pida’. The British came here and colonized our nation just to become sunken amongst the vast paddy field in Kedah. Stubborn to adapt, they were hesitant to call those vast paddy field to its original name (Kg.Tuk Uban, Kg.Ketoi, Kg.Darat, etc.etc.), so they divided the sectors and name them according to irrigation feeder numbers. In turns, the locals just named it ‘Pida’ followed the numbers. My dad is in ‘Pida3’

It was here when dad told me that going to Pekan Alor Star makes him feel relieved. He fondly remembers Tun Mahathirs’ Klinik Maha since it is close to Pekan Rabu, yet he never went there for any sorts of treatment. It was in pekan when he remembers dancing with his fellow friends to ‘Black Magic Woman’ at a funfair, loud music seems to rattle ayahs heart. When it is closing to dusk, ayah will cycle back with his friends 30km north back to his home. A 45-minutes long journey through the long and winding earthen road.

Ayah past story is both inspiring and thoughtful. Let alone his present advises which are sometime mind boggling. Ayah imposed a strict ruling of ‘anti-sensationalizing’ in the house. He deemed people who talk ‘sensational’ things as cheap talk and flimsy minded. He advises my family that human is imperfect and any bad stories we heard about someone shall ends with us. He never wants us to be part of the chain of gossipers. I once mentioned that Sheikh Mudzaffar our first astronaut could probably be a gay. Ayah first smiled at me and mentioned: “He would have been the most successful gay on earth to become an astronaut”, then he looked at me in disgust. Yes,I realized I’m sensationalizing petty matters.

He banned me from reading Mastika for reasons of mysticism and invalid reading material, I stepped forward and defended my action solely stating the benefits of reading without considering the content. He banned us from reading tabloids like ‘Harian Metro’ which highlighted cheap stories, yet, my mom at times enjoyed fresh copies of Metros.

Ayah had passion for reading. For a young man like me, I cannot apprehend the sight of my dad reading 3 titles of newspapers during weekends back to back ( that is The Star, News Straits Times and Utusan Malaysia). Ayah had a huge collection of books which mainly focuses on economics matter. It is what he majors in University Malaya. In turn, his expertise in economics made me squeeze myself in tight corners as they will be loads of question to answer when I make claims. As every cents count for him.

Money Matters, Style and Informed Decision

Regarding money matters, my dad barred the family from entering the pyramid scheme ( he calls it Ponzi scheme), as a financial manager, he knew the scheme were deemed to collapse in matter of time. He tells me a story that a nation (somewhere in Africa or South America) had collapsed due to Ponzi scheme, becoming incapacitated and fell to bankruptcy. He tells me the story of Carlos Ghosn, the Operation Executive of Nissan which helped the company to turn its fortune during turbulent times. He emphasizes the importance of good management, damage control and win-win situations. He talks the importance of leadership in which at times, the usage of persuasion skill and force needed to be balanced.

Ayah once applauded the Bangladeshis in Malaysia because they dress sharp. They had high sense of style that a drop-by to grocery stall to make international calls had them wearing slack pants and well-ironed shirt. Their hairs were groomed to the max and never seen them wearing flip flops except for silky black official shoes. My dad even gave early approval if my sister wanted to marry that kind of machismo Bangladeshis. No problem, as my dad believed that what people wear reflects their personality. He keeps persuading me to tug in my shirt. Oh, humanity!

He always told me about the importance of ‘informed decision’, in which, whatever I shall have, I need to ensure it is the best I can possibly get. He enthuastically reminded my mom to purchase any item in limited quantity but the one that gives highest satisfaction level. Rather than having many of a single item but varies in satisfaction. Perhaps, this is one thing ayah and mama cannot agree for sometimes. Mama should have known that ayah ‘informed decision’ had resulted him to get married at an extreme age of 30 and never, till now, committed to polygamy.

Ayah personally commissioned me to survey specifications of LCD TVs deemed suitable for our home, and that was three years ago, until now, ayah still have not acquired any of them. I fully understood his action of waiting and see. It’s his nature. He objected family request for the subscription based Astro as he frantically mentioned “ Free to air channels is too much for us, why pay for Astro? “. This had been a subject of debate between me and one of my friends as he regarded this as ‘outrageous’ and added that ‘dalam hutan pun ada Asrto’ ( even in the jungle, there’s access to Astro)

I fondly remember washing my bicycle inside the house compound. On the sight of a few young girls cycling across the street, I whistled. The usual ‘boy-call-girls’ whistle. Without noticing ayah was behind me packing the garbage bag to throw it out. He quickly smacked the rubbish bag to my face and tell me “that’s not the right way to court a girl”, and yes, I got that disgusted gaze.
Until today, I wonder whether I can continue the legacy my dad had left us. There are tonnes of wisdom that are lost in time and I know there is few more wisdom within my dad thoughts that I have not yet know. But when shall he let me know? Only time will tell. Happy Fathers Day.