I hardly tuned in to Radio ERA these days, but I did so recently when I heard Aznil's voice cracking with sadness.
Apa hal la ni agaknya? I thought since I am 'working' on my "feeling" side (which score was very miserable in the MBTI profiling... hehehh...), maybe I should listen for a while.
I'm glad I did. Though I still am not quite sure how to describe my feelings about it even to this day.
This one pakcik with utagha slang was on air, relating to Aznil the incident of him being disposed off by his own flesh & blood son at a bus stand after he (the Pakcik) had just undergone an angiogram. Earlier - when he returned to his son's house, his son's wife (i.e. his daughter in law) had cleared away his mattress & pillow and told him he could not stay in the house any longer. He asked his son to send him back and yes, the son did so - but he just dropped him at the bus stop, that was it. No reasons given.
He said he's now putting up an old folks home. He still doesn't know what he had done wrong to warrant such ill treatment by them, especially his son, whom he had "bela dan didik daghi kecik sampai la ke besaq dengan kasih sayang dan didikan agama segala". He would welcome his son if he ever wanted to visit him but would not want to see his daughter in law - ever again.
Whatever their reasons maybe. This old pakcik just underwent angiogram.
I thought of my father. My father who was once a tough marine police officer, whom many many years ago used to fondly carry me on his back (piggy back) each time he came home from his off shore patrol duties. He who once told me how embarassing and mengada-ngada I was for not wanting to take part in the "Hari Polis" kids telematch. He who used to bring home almost all of his food rations and gave them to his wife and children instead of consuming them for himself while on rough waters. He who ignored me when I nagged him to buy me an ice lolly - just because I was having a bad cough at that time. He who once dropped everything that he was doing when he saw my face got swollen all over (poison ivy) and dragged me all the way to Hospital Besar JB on a public bus to make sure I got immediate medical treatment. He who used to visit me almost every weekend during my 1st year in STF - on his motorbike - if he was not off shore, bringing with him whatever home cooked meals my mother prepared and some snacks if he could afford to buy for his daughter - who kept telling him that she wanted out because she was deprived of healthy food in the hostel. He who did not disagree with me when I said, "Bapak, you don't have to give me monthly allowance anymore now bapak, because JPA gives me some meal allowance and I think I can survive".
He is retired and very old now.
He's also suffering from heart ailment and went through angiogram & angioplasty procedure not so long ago.
It's payback time now. Transferring some meagre amount of money for him and my mother every month, insyaAllah. Sending him to the hospital for planned doctor's appointment. Rushing him to the emergency unit if angina attacks, nauzubillah. Fetching his medicines every month at the hospital's pharmacy and sending them via courier to my sister who would then 'dispense' the medicines to my father. Scolding him for sneaking in the middle of the night for a scoop of chicken or beef curry that was served over dinner but which he was not allowed to indulge together due to his high cholesterol and his heart ailment. Keep reminding him of my sons' names each time we balik kampung because he keeps forgetting who is who. And when talking to him, in person or over the phone, raise my voice to the point that people may misperceive as "kurang ajar" but only because he could not hear that well anymore these days.
I hated it when I have to leave my father alone at the hospital's lobby while waiting for me to pick up the car and make the rounds from the parking lot to fetch him.
I imagined and shuddered at the thought of leaving my father alone all by himself at a bus stop to catch a bus home.
I thought of the old pakcik. And his son's and his daughter in law's action. Whatever their reasons were .....
I am not much of a feeler. But this time it doesn't FEEL right at all.
It doesn't feel right that someone can treat his old father like that.
Whatever the reasons could be.... It doesn't feel right.
And today another story in the newspaper. A son, a medical student on a study break, beat his old man with an iron rod and slashed that poor old man's finger with a knife because his old man refused to give him RM1 million (!!!) His 50+ father is a company director with a government linked company and had recently undergone a heart bypass at the National Heart Institute. His wife is a department director of a government agency.
Apa nak jadi? Miskin susah. Kaya pun susah.
I have 3 sons. And now also a daughter.
Only time would tell.
Aku berserah kepadaMu Ya Allah.....