Father Figure

I spent an hour-plus quality time at the park yesterday, bringing my kids; Danish & Iman spending the nice and sunny evening together, making use of the weekend, rather than spending the time at home or at their Opah's as usual.

Nothing unusual there. We've done it many times. But as my active and pudgy little girl, who had just discovered the use of her legs, happily paced about the running track while other parents and kids looked in amusement, it occurred to me just how big she's grown up and how fast time really flies.

It was barely moments ago when I first held her in my arms, whispering the azan in her ear, at Selayang Hospital. She was tiny, I could hardly cuddle her without worrying that I held her too tightly. Fragile. For the first time, a father and a daughter changed looks, eyes to eyes, heart to heart. And somehow from that moment, I knew I was gonna name her Iman, although Honey and I spent restless nights before her birth to conclude a name for our baby which ended up in frustration and most of the session would end with the sound of our snores echoing through our bedroom. Most them mine.

I remembered very clearly, that precise unexplainable moments. The pride of being a father was filling my head as well as my veins. There she was, the cute and tiny little baby lovingly stared back at me.




And now, there she was, running around the park holding a baby doll in her hands that she loves so much. Her cute act around the track, earned smiles and laughter from those watching. Eleven kilos of fun, chased around by his out-of-shape old man. I thought, she's definitely grown. Alhamdulillah.

And then my thoughts shifted to my firstborn, Danish, who's enjoying his pre-school year-end break and is equally excited for his first step to primary school next year.

It amazes me how, from throwing tantrums and crying during the first couple of weeks in class, he had 'graduated' his pre-school few weeks ago. He knows additions, spelling and of course DRAWING! Having developed so much confidence and manners, it warms my heart just thinking about it.

Thinking of my two kids, I wondered where the time went. In a split second, my boys turned from babbling babies to toddlers who've mastered Youtube and online games.

Before I could realise anything, Danish and Iman had outgrown so many of their clothes, toys and house rules. Before long they'll be teenagers and so not into hugging and kissing their daddy. Soon, all this good night kisses and spontaneous hugs will slowly fade away.

Before I know it, they'll be having relationship issues, hormonal explosions and disagreement with their old fashioned parents over the smallest things like curfews, use of the car and their choices of friends. Trust me, I've seen my younger brothers and my parents in these conditions and it bothers me to imagine how it would turn out to be having my shoes in my parents'. And before I know it, they'll be leaving this so-called nest for their studies, their loved ones and their new lives.

I wondered if I've given them enough. Have I spent enough quality time with them? Have I shared with them enough lessons for them to take along their long journey? Have I hugged them enough and told them that I'm so very proud of them and that I love them to bits?

Or have I been focusing on the wrong things?



Have I, in my pursuit to make something for myself and along the way provide for my family, taken them for granted?

Have I been lulled by the rat race of life? In chasing wealth, making ends to ends work and trying to make a mark in the world, have I forgotten that MY WORLD IS RIGHT THERE WAITING FOR ME AT HOME? That worldly wealth is zilch compared with the wealth that is family?



Have I spent too much time and energy giving my all at work, striving to address every demand of my job, while dismissing my kid's requests for a little attention because I come back home every evening physically and emotionally exhausted?

Dear Allah, I hope I haven't.

I hope that I'm not just my kids superhero, not just a father figure, whose only connection with my kids is blood. And I hope I'll never be only that.

I hope I realise - and continues to realise - that my Danish and my Iman want more than the things I buy them, that the thing they need most from me is my heart.



I hope these two little angels will treat me as their best friend for life, someone they'll trust with their innermost insecurities and aspirations. I hope to be there when they need me most, and I pray Honey and I live long enough to see them have their own little ones.

I hope they'll take the best of me and improve it much further. And I hope they'll forgive the worst of me, and love me for who I am.



To my mum and dad, I love you with all my heart. Your sacrifice in raising us is something that I can't pay you back even with my life. I pray that Allah bless you both and place us in His Jannah in there Hereafter, Insha Allah.



To my sister Farah, if you're reading this. I wish you all the best in giving birth to your baby. Treasure those moments of being a proud parents, DO NOT take things for granted. Give your kids unconditional love without pampering them too much. Give them the best education for their success here and in the akhirat, Ameen.