redefinition of a typical malay mind

Been busy with work, with life, and with the selling house business. Alhamdullillah, the neighbour next door interested in buying the property. The thing is, he wanted to take up his government second home loan. And it will take sometime for him to process everything.

I am selling at the market price of RM 120k. Not a single penny more nor less. I just want to get this incubus over and live my life the way i should be living it. Fatherless and HAPPY.

En. Zalkaply by now should be spending his money like no body’s business and almost broke. I just can feel it. And when he is broke and started begging for monthly expenditure, I just dont want to be around.

Sometimes I just feel like giving him one good punch on his face. Probably that will relief me from this vexation. But instead I pray and hope ALLAH gives him what he deserve. I overheard my youngest sister asking my mom the other day “Apasal lah dia ni tak mati - mati lagi?” and Mom said ” Orang jahat memang mati lambat- sabar jer lah”. So sabar it is….

This month of Ramadhan is quite challenging and peaceful at the same time. Challenging because I have to control my anger every time I am having difficulties with the house selling process. Peaceful because, now that I disowned En Zalkaply, I found it is easier to forgive him. I forgive him for the trouble he put me through. I forgive him for the things he said. I forgive him for the life he makes me live.

I am leaving it to Allah, for HE knows best. As for now, I am struggling to put everything in order. I pray hard that the darkness will soon fade, and I could live the bright shiny days again.

Lessons 4:

4. He never fast - so I never learnt anything about Ramadhan from him!

Semalam, aku, omak and ayu pergi site visit ke Semenyih. Rumah bapak aku yang dia war - warkan kepada semua orang kononnya dia BAGI aku. BAGI = ameklah ko free and tak bayar satu sen pun. Bukan nya = ko refinance lah umah ni, aku duduk free duit ko bagi aku and ko tanggung utang.

And guess what, setelah mendapat durian runtuh ( duit EPF ) yang tak tau berapa lama jer bley tahan tu, en. Zalkaply tu dah pindah umah. Sebab? Tak nak settle kan umah dia yang aku dah tolong bayarkan itu.

Rupanya dah berbulan dia cakap ngan neighbour sebelah umah dia- DIA NAK JUAL RUMAH TU.

BEST kan En. Zalkaply itu? Syok kan jadi aku- off all the person aku nak kena TIPU dengan. Aku kena tipu ngan pakcik ni. Lessons learnt. Anggap jer lah aku dah tak kenal PAKCIK ZALKAPY. Tu pun cukup baik kalau aku nak panggil dia PAKCIK

~~~ untuk tidak marah adalah satu perkara yang amat mustahil ~~~ 

Sometimes at night when I was alone, I wonder- Am I being a bad daughter? Should I ‘redha’ with the destiny ALLAH sets for me. Should I ( no matter how hard) accept my father’s weaknesses and forgive him and live happily ever after?I think I am redha because I never hated him for leaving us - I  forgave him - or else I wont be in this situation today. But, yet, happiness is something that is still missing.

I am so tired by all his empty promises. During my MRSM years - he promised to buy me hand-phone, which he actually did but later didn’t pay the bills. During my university years - he promised to buy me a car a Nissan Sentra he said - I would have satisfied with a Kancil instead back then, but then - Nothing. When I graduated and have to stay with him while mak was still working in Kuching, he still promised to buy me a car - but he bought a ugly junk and expect me to drive.

He got his VSS and half of his EPF when I wanted to get married. From those hundreds  thousands that he received - he gave me 1k for the wedding. Cool eh? Everything I spend on my wedding was from my pocket and mak’s. We couldn’t care less. Oh did I mentioned he told everyone that me and mon wont even make it  to the 3rd month? “3 bulan jer bercerai lah tu..” 

There’s this one time, when I was 12, an uncle came visiting. Dad wanted to see the uncle so he took me, Aty and that uncle of mine for dinner. I then told him that I want to buy some sate for nana as well. Dad proudly took out RM50 and hold it high and said- Ok, “Nah take this 50 cents”  I cant forget the look on my uncle’s face.  For us it was an insult.

It cant be denied, that when it comes to education, he is willing to spend a lot on books and other facilities that we need. Without his assistance I wont be what I am today. But, with all the gift came sarcastic comments. I don’t know whether I should be inspired by all that. One thing for sure it damages my emotion.  

At one time, he gave us his credit card should we need money at times of emergencies. After a while he stopped giving us the monthly allowance and we have to rely on the credit card. After some time he stopped paying the card.  And we were left broke. 

Dad and Mom made agreements during their divorce hearing that Mom wont request the nafkah to be deducted monthly from dad’s salary and dad agree to give mom a car for our usage. After sometime he stopped paying for the car and mom had to pay. There’s this one time he bought a car for mom (before the divorce settlements). A new car. One day the car when missing from mom’s office parking lot. He left an old office car instead - which obviously mom didn’t have access to. The new car we later discovered he used to go on a date with the Bitch, who also stole mom’s new expensive -powered sunglasses that she used for driving.  Mom and nonot ( from nursery) have to come home using taxi. We never see the car nor the sunglasses again.

Growing up- I thought that I am the one who makes my dad’s life miserable (financially). Not until I met Auntie ( my dad’s current wife). She told me that the bitch who snatched dad from mom, put my dad in huge debts. She fully utilized all his credit cards especially his AMEX. After gave my dad the son he always dream off- she fled with another man.  So, I stopped blaming myself. If there’s anyone that should be blame. It should be dad. 

 Since I started working - not even once I asked for his money although I know the exact amount he got from his VSS and EPF. Because I am done with him. But he came to me for help when he was broke (AGAIN).  Reluctantly willing to help, I seriously think that he would “insaf”  and try to make it right this time ( he is getting another half of his EPF). But yet I am wrong. As soon as he got his money - there’s no longer news or sms from him. I guess we might heard from him again when he is back to his previous situation - FLAT BROKE

 My dad and money is a deadly combination.  

I grew up with  only one ambition “I don’t want to be like my father”.  

 Lessons 2 & 3 :

2. Don’t share prosperity with your family - instead get a bitch.

3. When you are broke look for family - when you are rich - forgets them. 

 My parents were divorced when I was 10.

My second sister was 8

Nonot was not even a year old.

Being a Muslim, I believe that it has been written in my Qada’ and Qadar.

Being a child , I believe that my dad is a bad guy and someday will end up in hell

Being the eldest daughter, I believe responsibility does not comes with age. It comes with tragedy.

Yes. the divorce is a tragedy. That was the first time.

My parents tried to patch things up and work the relationship once again. But, like I said, it has been written that they wont grow old together. And so, when I was 12. Mom and Dad stopped trying. 

I remember when I was 10, I was playing with the kids from my neighbourhood, when a girl said

“My mom said, your parents is getting a divorce”

I look at her and said ” And how is this your business?” I stopped playing and went home.

The next day, my dad was at home - visiting (he no longer stayed with us- the day he discovered a bitch he called girlfriend). I brought him to the play ground and told him to his face.

“This girl said you and mom is getting a divorce”

My dad stopped smiling- the girl ran home. - I smiled.

If there’s anyone should take the humiliation and the pain- it should not be me. And did I mentioned I was just 10? 

Did I ever mentioned that i was my father’s chid? Or at least I thought I was. He wanted a son, but end up having 3 daughters, so I was trained to be tough and strong. I played with toy guns and boxing gloves instead of barbie dolls. In my head, I was  a perfect child being able to be both daughter for my mom and a son for my father.

Unfortunately I was wrong. If my parents divorce is as hot as the late Lady D’s, a press statement from my dad would sound something like this

“I need a son- something she has failed to give me”

and a press statement from my mom said

” He is sleeping with a bitch!!!”

I am not proud of my family history. But I am proud of having one functional family when my dad is no longer around. Yes, life was hard, because there are times he purposely FORGOT to reserve some money for our daily expenses. But I couldn’t complain much could I? 

I wrote letters to him and send him eid cards every year. Most of the time I wrote

” it has been 4 years since you left us…”

then

“it has been 5 years…

then..

“it has been 6 years..”

until one day I lost count and decided to stop writting.  Why? Because, he will only cry when he is lonely, not when he is surrounded by his girlfriends. He moved on. Why shouldn’t I? He didn’t even count the days he left his family. Why should I?

And so, I stopped writting. 

Lesson 1:

I am not good enough! And never will be