Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Those times, Baba.

I’ve been restraining myself to write about you. Because it won’t happen without tearing my eyes. But I let my fingers dance this time. Just because.


Those times, Baba that I will miss the most.

Those times when you still have your goats. And you asked me to come with you. You worked so hard to feed them while I struggled to keep them off my feet. You cut the grass with your bare hands when suddenly the rain pours down heavily. I shaded you with the umbrella while you continue to work. They will get hungry in the evening, you said. And when the rain last too long, we decided to hide under the barn. And yes, it didn’t smell so nice, but I was with you. Giggling and chatting, about your goats. Watching the rain patting down, while you smile as it will grow your grass. And I smile, watching you smile.

Those times when we went to your farm. I drive the car by your side. And at that time, you will keep up the stories about me. We fell silence for a while, but those silence were never awkward. You will laugh at the way I’m afraid of pacat and will try to get them off. You sighed watching the streams no longer crystal clear. And we went to eat ikan sungai in nearby restaurant. You smiled at the way I hungrily eat because it’s too good and you’ll ask me to eat more. And we both agreed that ikan sebarau is the best.

Those times when went to far away masjid. You are in charge to be the imaam of solat tarawikh. And because it’s too far, Mama asked me to keep you a company. We chatted all the way there and you will suddenly mengaji like beautifully and I will listen and admiring. Baba, it’s so nice to pray in between a full crowd, knowing that you are the imaam. And sometimes your voice is low, and I know you’re being emotional. Baba, it’s so nice to hold my hand together hearing your du’a while in there, you inserted the du’a for your family and children, knowing that it include me.

Those times when you try to converse with me in Arabic. And it will last until the third question because I won’t know how to answer more and just simply said ‘Laa adri’ which means ‘I don’t know’ and you’ll laugh and patted my back. I was so envious to hear you converse with Akir and not understanding a word you guys were talking. And I know how you’re happy and how you missed to converse in Arabic and I’m sorry I can’t keep up.

Those times when I tried to read your kitaab. But I was stuttering because it’s in Arabic. But you will patiently provide me meaning of every word with the hope that I will understand. And I do, Baba. Thank you. Some day, some times I will make use of the kitaabs as you always wanted.

Those times when I was reading the Quran inside my room. And you will suddenly correct my reading. It was so nice feeling that you’re actually attentively hearing my reading and correcting my mistakes. And I was so envious actually that you can cry while reading the Quran and sometimes you can sigh. I can just imagine how true it feels to be able to understand the verses by word.

Those are the times, Baba that I will treasure the most. I know you got so much hope in your children. Sometimes it may come true and sometimes it may not. But I want you to know that we are trying our best to make you happy and smile to your heart’s content.

And Baba, I personally ask you this, that some day if someone reaches for my hand, please make sure that he is able to hold mine like you have been holding all this while.


And Baba, I am and forever always your girl. Uhibukka giddan.