I was lost not knowing how to kill the time i had in this very long break after my exams. So, my dad, seeing me sleeping and gaining pounds, asked me to give a talk on IB to the form 5 students in MRSM Kuantan for their Career Week program. He also had to present something on career in medicine. I didn't prepare much, just equipped myself with a couple of powerpoint slides and 2 years of experience. Thinking that having 2 separate files will take too much time that would rot the students to death, I suggested to my that is better to combine nthe slides into one. Good idea, he said. As I was transferring my presentation to his laptop, there was a file which caught my attention. It was a powerpoint presentation; "MFA.pptx". My initials. What was it about? Curiousity arose but i just pushed it aside. Its nothing i guess, might be some slides for his some other talk.
When i was in the small classroom, where he gave the talk in front of around 50 students whose passions are running high for medicine, i can't help myself from observing his 'tango', moving left to right, and left back again, a
s he pour his almost 30 years' of experience to them, and i realized how this man and me are 2 worlds apart. Apart from the minor resemblence from the neck above, i have to admit we have very little in common. I'm "not that tall", he's average sized. Me, chubby. My dad, skinny as a stick. He is a man of few words, while I'm the mean talking machine. It's funy how i end u
p being blood-related to him.
He took around 45 minutes before he gave the floor to me. Before i "bored" them, my dad opened the file which i was so curious the night before. The slides was about me, my biography, my life's journey and my almost all my life's experience. Every newspaper excerpts, pictures, awards, and articles about me and my firsts was on his slides, which "oohed" and "ahhed" the crowd, leaving them in amazement. There was this great pride on his face that was brightly radiated from his face; a father's pride for his son. I thought I had impressed him so little with all i had achieved, and at the same time i never e
xpected levish rewards from my parents as i did it for myself and for personal reasons. But in fact, from the fluctuations of his tones, from the thick atmosphere of amazement, I realized that he was always proud of me, and in his eyes, i saw a father's love to his son. My initial instic
t was to give this 49 year old man a nice father-son hug, but it would only turned up as a soap opera with the students as its audiense. So i just contained my overwheling love towards my dad. And i know he loves me in his own way.
This is the man who, every 6.45 am, would wake up, and sweep the floors. This is the dad who prefers to repair the pipes and wiring in the house despite the professional help available around him. This is the man who iron his own clothes
because he prefers it that way ( and not becau
se my mom's a lazy queen control). Not all man are like him, but i am proud to be his son. This is the man who's my mentor, my idol, my best friend. He is Kamarizan, My Dad.
I love you, Papa.