Wednesday, September 28, 2011

true champions

I hate the fact that every once in a while I've to cut class or rush back home for some appointment or other. Believe it or not, there are tones of sadness underlying the initial glee of having an escape from college. I know I should be grateful for not having a life threatening or potentially fatal disease, but a minor, treatable one. I suppose fretting the fact that others don't have to go through the trouble makes me feel at a disadvantage.

I'm not a fan of illness. Thus, the whining and dread every time I've to see the doc.

It's only today when mummy and I got lost on the way to UMMC did I stop to wonder what she must feel as a parent. It's hard enough raising a headstrong, rebellious kid like me, but what does she really feel when she has to hear me complain?

What does any parent feel when they have to send their kids to the hospital? What runs through their minds when we wince because of pain? Their love runs much deeper than we know, so they must worry worse each time we're sick. And how many times have I been sick in my life? I guess that amounts to a lifetime of worry, and that's not including the times when my other siblings were sick.

Last Wednesday when I came home after UKCAT (yes, I go home a lot :D ) and I was so bummed out about my results, I never even spared a thought to how my parents felt when they saw me that way. I suppose I've always assumed that whatever success/failure in my life would be a blessing/burden that I would have to bear individually.

Boy, isn't that a fallacy.

What Miss Loh said in class really made me reflect that all actions in life reflect, to an extent on our parents. Our success would ultimately reflect on our upbringing.

So how do they feel when they give us everything within their means (and earthly bounds, of course) and we don't give them what they duly deserve in return?

How many times have our parents supported us, sacrificed for us, suffered because of us, just to see us succeed in this world and the hereafter? How many times have we made them feel like they succeeded? 

I recall the time daddy got a call that I was admitted in HKB and he drove all the way from KL  after work just to be there. The way daddy cooks up every gastronomical craving I've ever had. Daddy's diligence, the way he's a rock, for me to lean on, always. His determination to provide a good education for  me for this world and the next pushed me to work hard all my life.

Then I remember how idiotic I was when I used to vilify him because I took his aspirations for me as stifling expectations of a cold authoritarian.

No exam, test, stressful day when I can't wrap my head on freight rates link to shifting demand curves, would pass without calling mummy. Mummy can give the Juggler at a circus a run for his money the way she manouvered her kids and her job. She wants the best from me, but never at the cost of my own happiness.

And ugly flashes of how I used to raise my voice at her. The ungrateful wretch I am when I take for granted everything she fought so hard to give me.

I'm really sorry mummy and daddy.

It's true that our parents deserve the award more than us sometimes. Truly, the best way to do that is by striving hard for success and Allah's pleasure. I'm sure there's nothing more they want than for us to be really good Muslims.

So here's to mine. I love my mummy and daddy, and you should too!


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