Speaking with a little guilt

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Me and Abah my siblings always say; have a lot of things in common. We both can talk on so many perspectives in regard to certain issues - politically, socially, legally and others that seem less intriguing to the rest of our family members. We fancy Tan Sri P.Ramlee and not just that, he introduced to me my favourite songs of Rokiah Wandah, Oslan Hussein and Normadiah. As much as I love him and am proud to have similarities with this old man, however, I cannot agree with him with a lot of other things too especially those related to his choice of colors, arts, images, words, holiday plans and hobbies. I would easily get annoyed whenever he opened his mouth for the ‘wrong’ choice he made and I would ridicule, especially when those decisions took a hold of other people.

Take this for instance - my father loves fishing. I do not. I am actually not sure if ever anyone besides Abah in this family loves fishing. But each time this old man proposed for a fishing trip, everyone nodded immediately but later disagreed behind his back. The itinerary of the fishing trip will give Abah and fishing rods the brightest spotlight as no other things will be part of it. The trip, which bulldozed on everyone, was nonetheless enjoyed by Mama as everyone will have the best time spent with each other along with gossiping of course. Mama’s best approach is to agreeing with everything her husband puts her into and when the right time comes, she will calmly confront and express her thoughts. I am bad at it and I don’t like to wait for the right time to come. Being the most outspoken in the family, I blatantly will tell Abah why I don’t want to go fishing. I will fight for my rights. But, Abah is not only the proposer but also the decision-maker so the end-result is a no-surprise. I at least have expressed what I feel and that’s what matters to me.

Yesterday, when we were in car, Mama put her lipstick and babbled on the wrong color she bought. Abah later showed Adik’s red chili Myvi and said, “This color is nice. Next time buy this color.” I was beyond annoyed (I get annoyed over him easily) and said, “Abah definitely has the worst taste ever.” What my sister said after that left me in silence, “But Abah married Mama. Abah chose Mama. How could you say he has the worst taste?”

I was wrong. It’s not easy to admit this but this time, yeah, I lost to Abah. 

Last night he knocked on my door just to ask, “What is Pribumi in English? Is it ‘Native’?” It was 12:20AM and I was at that time half-awake. I frowned and replied, “Is that really urgent?” He just left and said nothing. Kecik hati. Immediately after that, I stood up, reached my phone that was charged a little distant. I sent to him one short and sweet message: 

Pribumi = Indigenous

Our relationship is unique. But really, what is a relationship without love, a little hatred and a lot of irritations?


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