It was 3 o'clock on a Tuesday morning of November 5th, 1996. The ringing tone of
Telekom Malaysia's telephone in the family area of our rented house at Taman Bayu, Jalan Sultanah, Alor Setar, Kedah made my mind filled with all the negative thoughts. I was convinced that it was going to be bad news. Who, in the right frame of mind, would telephone somebody at this time of a working day when there was, at the least, TWO HOURS of quality sleep time left? Just when I was about to pull my blanket to continue my sleep, my wife uttered, "
Abang, pi la jawab telefon tuu." I had no choice and slowly climbed out of the bed and made my way to the telephone. Yes, it was my mother on the line and it was about my father...
I could not recall the driving trip from Alor Setar to Kangar that morning but what I could remember was that it seemed like the longest 60km trip I've ever made in my entire life. Then, there I was in the ward of Hospital Besar Kangar (now known as Hospital Tengku Fauziah) kissing my father's forehead before covering his whole body with the white coloured cloth.
According to my mother, at about 11 o'clock on the night of November 4th, 1996, my father, during his sleep, had difficulties in breathing. We all knew about his heart condition and how particular my father was about his medication. Well, it was to be his turn.
Now, it has been more than 12 years. Each and every year, come Father's Day, these are the vivid memories that will be replayed in my mind.
Abah Zain's humble beginning teaches me about life. His stories about cycling to school, drinking "pipe-si-cola" (water from the stand pipe) during recess, how he missed the opportunity of going to Sultan Idris Teachers' College (now known as UPSI) because of financial difficulties, taking and passing MCE examination by learning on his own whilst working to improve his education will be remembered by me when I am faced with the struggles of my own. "Life is a struggle; life without struggle is death".
Frugal lifestyle of Abah Zain did not stop him from sending me and my younger brother to an english medium school in Kangar, 8 kilometers away from our village, although there was a malay medium school 1 kilometer away. I can see his determination to ensure that his children get the best education that he could afford. I can still recall how my classmates talking about "Ultraman", "Combat", "Bonanza" and all the other favourite TV programmes whilst I just sat down quietly and listening without understanding what they are talking about. As you can see, my village did not have electricity supply until the year 1972, hence, no TV.
Cooperation is one of Abah Zain's virtues. Determined to bring in electricity to our village, he and his neighbours (who happen to be my uncles and my aunt) agreed jointly to purchase a generator that is capable of lighting up four houses. They even shared the cost of building a generator house and it was located near our house. This meant that it was the duty of Abah Zain to operate and maintain the generator, which he gladly accepted the responsibilities without any complaint. I and my brother used to scramble with each other as to who would blow the horn (a warning sign to all the neighbours that the generator will be switched off for the day). From then on, I could join my classmates in discussing our favourite TV programmes and would not be left out anymore.
Guests were always welcomed to our wooden stilted house. Now I know why our living room was the biggest room in the house! After every Friday prayers, my friends from the neighbouring villages would asked me "Malam nih, cerita apa, Pak Long (my village nickname since I'm the eldest) ?". "
Antara Dua Darjat" I obligingly replied, knowing that the question was about the weekly screening of Malay movies on
RTM1 every Friday night at 9:00pm. Half an hour before the film started, our neighbours and their children started to fill in our living room. The 20inch Black-and-White Toshiba TV was the biggest screen Abah Zain could find but at the end of the film everybody enjoyed. Mak Cik Nah will always shed tears if the flick was a tear-jerker. Pak Cik Chin will always hammered his fist on the armrest when Mark Lewin pile-drove his "bad" opponents. Everybody cheered when Mokhtar Dahari scored for Malaysia during the life telecast of
Pesta Bola Merdeka. Guess, who had the best seat in the house? That'll be me if I didn't consider my brother's argument. Nowadays, I smiled satisfactorily, when my neighbours children dropped by at our house to watch Disney's Channel, Discovery Channel or even ASTRO Ria. The best seat in the house is now occupied by my youngest daughter, Deqda.
In my primary school era, I most enjoyed the third term school holidays. What it meant for me was trip to places outside the state of Perlis. I had an uncle (Abah Zain's half-brother) working as a policeman in Penang Island. So, one of our annual destinations was the Pearl of The Orient. It was not about shopping at Penang
Load (my younger brother's pronounciation for Road when the trishaw man asked for our destination), nor the slow climb of Bukit Bendera funicular train that was important to Abah Zain. It was reinforcing family ties and keeping in touch. Until to date, I have been following this practice (see previous posting, click
HERE).
"
Ya Allah, ampunilah dosa-dosa kedua-dua ibubapa ku, Engkau tempatkan kedua-dua mereka di dalam golongan orang-orang yang soleh, masukkan mereka ke dalam syurga yang telah Engkau janjikan dan jauhilah mereka dari api neraka."
HAPPY FATHER'S DAY! 
