So what do one call it, a happy day or a sad day? No, this has got nothing to do with the current political sitcom that is not screening on our tvs but being acted live.
Is it a happy day? Well I guess it should be, almost everyone who goes through this day calls it a happy day. Events that greeted me this morning even suggest that it is a happy day.
Celebrate it then. Why is it that I can't. I don't feel like it. The joy with which I should feel when the events I mentioned earlier was not full-bodied ones. Yes, there were smiles but that was what it were, just smiles. No joy, no air of celebration, no screams of elation, no nothing.
You see today I turn 53. Yes, its my birthday today and as early as yesterday I got birthday wishes in my facebook. Last night I received a few messages wishing me a happy birthday and this morning I was greeted with kisses from the missus and children.
Should I be happy then? Of course I should be happy. I have a family that I love so much and from whom I received so much love in return.
No don't think that this lack of jubilation has anything to do with the fact that I am now a year older and getting closer to the grave. I am not one who cares about how old I am. All I care is how young I feel.
As I opened my eyes and was greeted with a birthday greeting and kiss from the missus, my mind raced back 30 years ago.
For those who had followed my blog this few years would know what I am talking about. 30 years ago, today, I was in Pasir Puteh Kelantan. It was a holiday but I do not know for what. It was definitely not a weekend because it was a Tuesday. Yes, there is a significant to Tuesday that is why I can still remember clearly it was a Tuesday.
I was in the bathroom when I heard knocks on the door. We usually don't lock the door then. I wrapped myself in my towel and ran dripping wet to get the door when I was met with someone unfamiliar who was already walking into the house.
"Cikgu nazir"? "Ya", "Saya dari balai polis Pasir Puteh, kami dapat panggilan dari Pulau Pinang, bapak cikgu meninggal dunia tadi pukul 2", or something to that effect.
No, I didn't faint or let loose my towel but just quietly thanked him. I knew he was staring at me searching for the slightest sign of emotion but I guessed I must have dissapointed him. I knew my father was going to die, just a matter of when.
Yes, today marks the 30th year of his death. Do you call it an anniversary? I don't think so. I had always thought of anniversaries as equal to celebrations and frankly I do not feel like celebrating.
Yes, what is the significance of Tuesday then? You see my father had this 'pantang' or you may say taboo. He disliked Tuesdays. He will not do anything important on Tuesdays. He died on a Tuesday and by the way, I was born on a Tuesday.
So I am 53, and my family was happily wishing me a happy birthday to which I greeted with smiles but it couldn't go beyond that, just smiles.
Despite everything, I would still go out with them for the annual dinner we will have on my birthdays. I would fake joy and happiness as best as I could but I could not really fully enjoy the event.
You see, I loved my father so very much. Imperfect as he was, as I am imperfect myself, I still loved him very much and missed him so much as if it was only yesterday I was at his bedside, in the hospital, completely devastated, when my mother told me that there was no hope.
Some birthday huh?
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