Dear Diary,
As I am writing this down, Paranoid and her father are in the living hall watching football between Malaysia and Vietnam. As usual Paranoid acting like a retarded five year old kid, kicking against the floor at every excitement she felt. Not only she kicked and stomped her feet against the floor, she also cheered loudly being oblivious to her surrounding. While she displayed annoying child and retard like acts, her father characteristically lay on the matress with only his sarong on.
That is his only piece of clothe he wears in our home everytime he comes to visit Paranoid. I swear I have never seen him with a decent shirt on when he is at home. I actually have begun to believe that he is similar to Orang Utan who doesn’t seem to care about covering his body from the view of people. I have never got the chance to see if he does take his bath because everytime when he is around, all he does is lay on the mattress with his sarong from day to evening, from dawn till dusk. It is really startling how a human his age can afford to do that for the whole day.
Diary, forgive me for what I am about to tell you but I have to let it out. It has been inside my heart since a long time ago. I have never seen him bath and I have never seen him pray. Who am I to say but I cannot help myself from thinking about it. Shouldn’t a man his age be living like as though he is dying? I mean, all of us should be living like we are dying because death does not recognise age, time and date but naturally when you get older, you will tend to become more religious. I expect every man older than I am whom I can call father to be behaving his age, to show exemplary roles to the young ones. Yes Diary, nobody is perfect but we shouldn’t let the skeleton in our closet be seen especially at the expense of his loved ones. What would I think of him now as the father of Paranoid? I have no right, by anything I do or say, to demean a human being in his own eyes. What matters is not what I think of him; it is what he thinks of himself.
Imagine this Diary, I am a grown up woman and he is old enough to be my father. When he doesn’t dress appropriately in a house I call home, he is one pathetic rude old man. Now, I am not sure if he realises that because both Paranoid and him seem oblivious and carrying that ‘tidak apa’ attitude. I felt offended and repulsive. Do you know what a sarong can do to a man when he lay on a mattress Diary? Imagine him lying down with his knees pointed up. The sarong can just slipped down to his thighs exposing whatever he was supposed to hide. It is as good as wearing just your undergarments when that happens. So do you see now why I have to tell you what I feel? He only sleeps in the living hall, of course he is exposed and the sight of him can be quite an eye sore.
I was welcomed by that sight when I opened my door to collect my dirty laundry in the hall. If my father was like that, I would definitely be ashamed and give my father a friendly talk about it all. But no, I supposed Paranoid is not like that. She would rather let people look down upon her father and she would be more than happy and glad that people would just disrespect her father. Perhaps she has forgotten that he that respects himself is safe from others; he wears a coat of mail that none can pierce. I guess I have a concrete reason now for naming her Paranoid. I felt insulted and I imagined myself throwing my dirty used bra to his face if I hadn't been brought up with manners.
I used to have a love-hate relationship with my father. But after living far and away from him, I would never trade my father for anything else even for a mountain of gold. My father has never skipped his prayers except during emergencies, has never behaved like that towards my friends and has never been idle like that with no purpose in life. I supposed when you have a father like this or a father like that, somehow you become grateful and appreciative of how your father really is, regardless how imperfect he can be. You will do silent comparison between someone else’s dad and yours and you will start seeing what a hero and respectable man your father is.
Her father never gets out of the house at all. I have noticed his habits already after having to face some unpleasant periods when he is in the house. I guess he only gets up from the mattress when he needs to answer nature calls. Other than that, he will just lay there like a man weakening from the daily dosage of oxygen. He doesn’t seem to care about his appearance at all and that explains why he is untidy. I have friends coming over my house while he is here and they too, share the same view with me. We must always bear in mind never to violate the sacredness of our individual self-respect.
I wouldn’t be telling you this Diary if Paranoid had not step on my tail. I still remember how she told me about what she had to go through at the old house. Have I told you what happened there Diary? Some things happened all thanks to Infinity and her entourage of immediate family members. Paranoid and I were not happy about it because our privacy was invaded. Paranoid preached to me about how she was brought up. No outsiders especially men or boys are allowed in her house to protect and preserve the privacy of women (her late mother, elder sister and Paranoid) except during festivities. Although she has four brothers, her brothers are all trained not to bring home their friends as and when they like. So that is how she grows up. So when things like that happened to her in the old house, she became afraid, upset and unhappy. One thing leads to another and finally she and I moved out. But, ironically she is doing the same thing she experienced back at the old house to me. Do you get what I mean Diary?
Yes, it is only her father and no one else except her father. I work on my own and I spend most of the time doing my work at home in my room. Whenever her father came, he and I will be alone in the house when Paranoid went to work. Her father doesn’t dress appropriately and imagine how would I feel to be alone in a house with this one untidy no-brainer old man? You tell me Diary. Old does not mean wise afterall. All this gives me a stronger reason to get that dream home of mine. One Avenue, here I come!
As I am writing this down, Paranoid and her father are in the living hall watching football between Malaysia and Vietnam. As usual Paranoid acting like a retarded five year old kid, kicking against the floor at every excitement she felt. Not only she kicked and stomped her feet against the floor, she also cheered loudly being oblivious to her surrounding. While she displayed annoying child and retard like acts, her father characteristically lay on the matress with only his sarong on.
That is his only piece of clothe he wears in our home everytime he comes to visit Paranoid. I swear I have never seen him with a decent shirt on when he is at home. I actually have begun to believe that he is similar to Orang Utan who doesn’t seem to care about covering his body from the view of people. I have never got the chance to see if he does take his bath because everytime when he is around, all he does is lay on the mattress with his sarong from day to evening, from dawn till dusk. It is really startling how a human his age can afford to do that for the whole day.
Diary, forgive me for what I am about to tell you but I have to let it out. It has been inside my heart since a long time ago. I have never seen him bath and I have never seen him pray. Who am I to say but I cannot help myself from thinking about it. Shouldn’t a man his age be living like as though he is dying? I mean, all of us should be living like we are dying because death does not recognise age, time and date but naturally when you get older, you will tend to become more religious. I expect every man older than I am whom I can call father to be behaving his age, to show exemplary roles to the young ones. Yes Diary, nobody is perfect but we shouldn’t let the skeleton in our closet be seen especially at the expense of his loved ones. What would I think of him now as the father of Paranoid? I have no right, by anything I do or say, to demean a human being in his own eyes. What matters is not what I think of him; it is what he thinks of himself.
Imagine this Diary, I am a grown up woman and he is old enough to be my father. When he doesn’t dress appropriately in a house I call home, he is one pathetic rude old man. Now, I am not sure if he realises that because both Paranoid and him seem oblivious and carrying that ‘tidak apa’ attitude. I felt offended and repulsive. Do you know what a sarong can do to a man when he lay on a mattress Diary? Imagine him lying down with his knees pointed up. The sarong can just slipped down to his thighs exposing whatever he was supposed to hide. It is as good as wearing just your undergarments when that happens. So do you see now why I have to tell you what I feel? He only sleeps in the living hall, of course he is exposed and the sight of him can be quite an eye sore.
I was welcomed by that sight when I opened my door to collect my dirty laundry in the hall. If my father was like that, I would definitely be ashamed and give my father a friendly talk about it all. But no, I supposed Paranoid is not like that. She would rather let people look down upon her father and she would be more than happy and glad that people would just disrespect her father. Perhaps she has forgotten that he that respects himself is safe from others; he wears a coat of mail that none can pierce. I guess I have a concrete reason now for naming her Paranoid. I felt insulted and I imagined myself throwing my dirty used bra to his face if I hadn't been brought up with manners.
I used to have a love-hate relationship with my father. But after living far and away from him, I would never trade my father for anything else even for a mountain of gold. My father has never skipped his prayers except during emergencies, has never behaved like that towards my friends and has never been idle like that with no purpose in life. I supposed when you have a father like this or a father like that, somehow you become grateful and appreciative of how your father really is, regardless how imperfect he can be. You will do silent comparison between someone else’s dad and yours and you will start seeing what a hero and respectable man your father is.
Her father never gets out of the house at all. I have noticed his habits already after having to face some unpleasant periods when he is in the house. I guess he only gets up from the mattress when he needs to answer nature calls. Other than that, he will just lay there like a man weakening from the daily dosage of oxygen. He doesn’t seem to care about his appearance at all and that explains why he is untidy. I have friends coming over my house while he is here and they too, share the same view with me. We must always bear in mind never to violate the sacredness of our individual self-respect.
I wouldn’t be telling you this Diary if Paranoid had not step on my tail. I still remember how she told me about what she had to go through at the old house. Have I told you what happened there Diary? Some things happened all thanks to Infinity and her entourage of immediate family members. Paranoid and I were not happy about it because our privacy was invaded. Paranoid preached to me about how she was brought up. No outsiders especially men or boys are allowed in her house to protect and preserve the privacy of women (her late mother, elder sister and Paranoid) except during festivities. Although she has four brothers, her brothers are all trained not to bring home their friends as and when they like. So that is how she grows up. So when things like that happened to her in the old house, she became afraid, upset and unhappy. One thing leads to another and finally she and I moved out. But, ironically she is doing the same thing she experienced back at the old house to me. Do you get what I mean Diary?
Yes, it is only her father and no one else except her father. I work on my own and I spend most of the time doing my work at home in my room. Whenever her father came, he and I will be alone in the house when Paranoid went to work. Her father doesn’t dress appropriately and imagine how would I feel to be alone in a house with this one untidy no-brainer old man? You tell me Diary. Old does not mean wise afterall. All this gives me a stronger reason to get that dream home of mine. One Avenue, here I come!
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