Time check: 0238hrs. I am supposed to be asleep right now but my brain decided that it needs to devour some sort of information before it can rest. So here I am writing and reading about public policy at the same time.
Hari Raya is one of the most awkward days for me. It's supposed to be a day of celebration (after a month of fasting) as well as forgiveness(or rather, the seeking of it). For me, the moment that I get to do whatever the hell I want when the sun is still up is enough of a celebration. For the forgiveness part, I still find it very awkward since I am asking for forgiveness from relatives of which I have never met before in my life(or I don't remember as claimed by my parents) or I have not done anything wrong to them. Some might take the latter wrongly because all to often, people think that I have always wronged them even though I feel I haven't. Maybe I have...well according to them anyway.
The only thing that I can bring with me with each year of celebrations is that how old everyone is getting. My parents as well as their siblings look really old. My parents look really tired lately. Dad looked especially tired today and even though he did just pull a night shift doesn't help to explain much. What I do take from their shagged faces is that they are getting tired taking care of me and my brothers. Trust me, nurturing three boys is such a handful especially when you have siblings like mine around. My elder brother is short of medical retardness while my younger brother is nothing short of pure demanding. Everything he wants he gets. As for me, I am nothing short of a magic act- always disappearing.In fact, that magic act took its height in 2006 as I was in Taiwan for Hari Raya that year. I can still remember how my mom made me cry over the phone as I wished her Selamat Hari Raya over the phone. It was her fault since she started crying first. I guess she really has a strong character in a sense that she tries to hide her emotions. The fact that she does it so well can only show how strong she is. So, that year, despite trying to hide from me the fact that she misses me really badly, she failed. Well, everyone has the right to fail sometimes. I guess, the I have inherited that from her- hiding of emotions. It does get me from point A to point B pretty efficiently sometimes.
I still cannot get over the fact how old everyone is getting. My parents are already past their 50s. I remember about 10 years ago, I never wanted that to happen. My dad's side has never really made it through to their 60s so naturally, I am worried too. Who wouldn't be right? I just pray to god that he doesn't take my parents away before I get the chance to take care of them. They have taken such good care of me that it has come to the point that I just want to tell them to stop doing it. But I guess it's all parental instincts- wanting to take care of their children- acting up.
What my mom said to me, and my brothers a couple of nights ago when we were breaking fast really struck a chord with me. It goes along the line of that it doesn't matter if either she, or dad, doesn't really get to eat much as long as her kids are fully satisfied with what they can provide. It really reaffirms my goal of wanting to take care of them to the grave. And so, I am re-stating this again: once I've saved enough, the first thing I want to do for them is to send them on the Hajj. Never mind if I have to compromise on somethings in order to accomplish that. It is the least I can do. I know my brothers will not be able to fulfill that seeing how my elder brother will probably never be able to earn enough for himself and how my baby brother will never figure out what to do with his life. That shall go into my bucket list. Wait! It already is...
Nobody is really afraid of dying. They are just afraid that they have not done enough before they die
No comments:
Post a Comment