"Anak hanya belajar menghargai kasih sayang ibu bapanya apabila akal sudah hidup di kepala, namun ibu bapa sudah menyayangi anak sebelum lahir ia ke dunia." -Saifulislam.Com-
A line from an article by Ustaz Hasrizal in one of his entries triggered me to write my entry for today. Simple yet meaningfully deep. It carries a similitude of most child-parents status quo in the present-day. Of course some of us might argue with that point, but then again coming back to my own experience, I remain affixed to my stand.
If you're a regular here, you might have read the entry I wrote on my dad awhile ago, which summarizes in short yet precisely the character of Abah. An uncluttered yet complex man. Extremely wise yet nitwitted. Funny and playful but stern. A kind man though a bit atrocious at times. A mixture of everything. An oxymoronic man, if this term ever exist. Which makes it an effortless effort to love but dislike him at the same time.
My mum, however, well that's another story to tell. She's the disciplinarian of the family. I used to be so scared of her, even if it was MY daring deliquency in the first place that made her chase me around the house with a hanger or a rotan. The weird thing is, regardless of how terrified I was of her, I've always wanted to please her. I remembered locking myself in the kitchen and washing all the dirty dishes in the sink so that I can suprise her. Any of my outstanding performances in school be it academic wise or extra-curricular activities, she'll be the first to know. She's the kind of person that puts other people on edge, making them go the extra mile, putting extra work to achieve the highest of their capability. In many ways than not, I am what I am now because of her. And eventhough it's hard to hear it from you, deep in my heart I know your love for your children reachest far beyond anything anyone on this earth can ever imagine. I love you, Ibu.
I have always been a difficult child. Being the first and only child for more than 4 years drifted me to become quite the challenge in the bridge towards my teenage years. I can't even count how many times I threatened to run away just because I was pissed by such stupid and unacceptable reasons. Or throw hysterical tantrums to get what I wanted. Oh, the foolishness of the fool can never be understood by the fool herself. I was selfish and proud but witless.
They say wisdom comes with age. I vouch to that. In retrospect, I realize I was always full of anger and reproach of those around me, of the people that loved (and still do) me the most. To me, nothing then was ever good enough. No one understood me. I was dead wrong.
So, Ibu, Abah, I'm sorry for all the misbehaves and tantrums, all the verbal attacks and lazziness, all the stupidity and self-centredness, everything in the package. I know I was difficult and to tell you the truth, I think I always will be. Hehhe. But THANK YOU, for always trying to give me the best, for all the care and guidance. Thank you for your unconditional love.
I am grateful for having the greatest parents one could ever ask for.
For I am blessed.
A line from an article by Ustaz Hasrizal in one of his entries triggered me to write my entry for today. Simple yet meaningfully deep. It carries a similitude of most child-parents status quo in the present-day. Of course some of us might argue with that point, but then again coming back to my own experience, I remain affixed to my stand.
If you're a regular here, you might have read the entry I wrote on my dad awhile ago, which summarizes in short yet precisely the character of Abah. An uncluttered yet complex man. Extremely wise yet nitwitted. Funny and playful but stern. A kind man though a bit atrocious at times. A mixture of everything. An oxymoronic man, if this term ever exist. Which makes it an effortless effort to love but dislike him at the same time.
My mum, however, well that's another story to tell. She's the disciplinarian of the family. I used to be so scared of her, even if it was MY daring deliquency in the first place that made her chase me around the house with a hanger or a rotan. The weird thing is, regardless of how terrified I was of her, I've always wanted to please her. I remembered locking myself in the kitchen and washing all the dirty dishes in the sink so that I can suprise her. Any of my outstanding performances in school be it academic wise or extra-curricular activities, she'll be the first to know. She's the kind of person that puts other people on edge, making them go the extra mile, putting extra work to achieve the highest of their capability. In many ways than not, I am what I am now because of her. And eventhough it's hard to hear it from you, deep in my heart I know your love for your children reachest far beyond anything anyone on this earth can ever imagine. I love you, Ibu.
I have always been a difficult child. Being the first and only child for more than 4 years drifted me to become quite the challenge in the bridge towards my teenage years. I can't even count how many times I threatened to run away just because I was pissed by such stupid and unacceptable reasons. Or throw hysterical tantrums to get what I wanted. Oh, the foolishness of the fool can never be understood by the fool herself. I was selfish and proud but witless.
They say wisdom comes with age. I vouch to that. In retrospect, I realize I was always full of anger and reproach of those around me, of the people that loved (and still do) me the most. To me, nothing then was ever good enough. No one understood me. I was dead wrong.
So, Ibu, Abah, I'm sorry for all the misbehaves and tantrums, all the verbal attacks and lazziness, all the stupidity and self-centredness, everything in the package. I know I was difficult and to tell you the truth, I think I always will be. Hehhe. But THANK YOU, for always trying to give me the best, for all the care and guidance. Thank you for your unconditional love.
I am grateful for having the greatest parents one could ever ask for.
For I am blessed.
5 comments:
tsk. windunyeh umie ngan ayah saye..
What a touching entry... =)
I guess everyone went through that parents-challenging and teenage-tantrums years.
Puan Mama Sarah
I wonder if there ever existed - or even, will exist - a teenager who will break away from that vicious cycle?
I tried, and unfortunately, got stuck in the spokes as they rolled along.
Hiyoshi, I think it's only normal to be in the cycle. I don't think it's vicious too, just what orang melayu kata; darah muda.
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