I was such a rebel kid but I never showed it in front of my parents, especially dad because I always remembered him. I was a normal teenager who wanted to be loved and to be tendered by a guy. But when I flashbacked how he made me break up with my ex boyfriend, my wrath never failed to come back. I guess that’s the reason I never made an effort to see him, to apologize. It has been ten years. I was only 20 years old when this happened. I didn’t understand life.
I sighed every time this bad memory came to me. Every time. I loathed myself for not making any effort to find an exit from this misery.
I couldn’t get married with my boyfriend, Cedric Chan whom I co-habitat with because a condition in Islam that needs ‘wali’ for solemnisation. Plus, Cedric was not a Muslim. He was a Catholic. He still agreed that there is only a God. The irony was, he didn’t obey what God has commanded nor follow what is written in The Bible. And then, I asked myself the same question. I didn’t pray, I drank alcohol and I didn’t cover myself – and got insane when people judged me for not behaving accordingly like in The Quran.
I knew what I was doing - it’s a sin; it popped up on my mind every time Cedric and I hugged and kissed and every time we made love. I knew it’s a sin. I did. I was just so sick of these people around me who kept bitching behind me but never actually wanted to tell me at my face. Just so you know, I knew it’s a sin.
My brain hurt when I saw something that reminded me of dad. When I was younger, back then when I agreed to live with Cedric, I didn’t have the ache. Now, I guess I’ve grown more sensitive and… more fragile because of the wound that was never treated. Even looking at the beer that Cedric bought regularly made me cry. Then he got angry for being so sensitive.
It hurt me that I still remembered what I’d done to my dad. He’s a respected successful businessman. Ten years ago, I remember he donated RM10,000 to a Quran school but decided not to be exposed. He always told my siblings and me how important prayers are. Even though he didn’t mind I didn’t cover up as a Muslim girl, I know he did want me to do it.
My friend, Nadiah who had very liberal parents once said to me, “Dina, go back home. Make your parents happy. Believe me, you’re going to live miserably even though you have freedom.” It’s easy for her to say this. She didn’t have to face what I had to – to face a high expectation of your parents and people around you.
Eventually, what Nadiah told me, every word she said, was true. I did have freedom for a few years, but after that period, my heart ached. I couldn’t do anything right. No matter how many times I told myself that this would go as time goes by, it never went.
People say that time heals a wound. Probably it is true, if I have ever cured it. The problem is, I have never. Time can’t do anything to help the wound to heal if there’s no medicine to cure the bleeding wound. In fact, it would get worse. Like this ache.
“Dina, let’s go.”
I saw Cedric in his gym attire and he was holding the car’s key. “Oh okay.” I replied in a husky sleepy voice and got ready.
I kept still in the car on the way to gym but I was staring at him. Cedric hasn’t known that I’m carrying his baby. “You want to go Changkat tonight, honey?”, he broke the silent.
“Who’ll be there?”
“Nadiah, Razlan, Sherlis, Christy… maybe Saveen. But if you’re not feeling well, sleep lah.”
“Nevermind, I’ll follow you Ced.”
***
That night at Changkat, I drank a few glasses of Vodka and cherry champagne. It felt so good. So good.
Nadiah was there but she was upset to see me. I know why she was upset, it’s not because of my decision to lead this kind of live, but because I was a bad child who broke her father’s heart. Nadiah believed that if you made your parents happy, you’d be happy; thus you wouldn’t be worried where God placed you. Heaven or Hell. Nadiah said, she didn’t mind to be in Hell if her family were there. She said that she’d be happy as long she’s with her family, didn’t matter if she’s being burnt many times.
What kind of bullshit. Which servant of God would want to be burnt, and then feel happy about it?
The only thing Nadiah was true that I live in misery because I have a contrary belief with my parents. I wasn’t nice to them.
***
I woke up when Cedric kissed my cheek and hold my left hand tightly. I was in the hospital. Cedric said I passed out suddenly in the club.
“Hey darling, doctor said you’re pregnant.” he cupped my right cheek than brushed my hair gently. “Why didn’t you tell me? You shouldn’t drink any, you know that, don’t you? I’m thankful that you and the baby are fine.”
I spent the whole night alone after Cedric had gone home. The wound had gotten worse. It’s affected me. It’s affected me to an extent that I tried to hurt another. My baby.
***
My life couldn’t get any tragic. The night my baby was born, Cedric was killed in an accident. His car was crashed under a trailer on the way to see me. “Astagfirullah, forgive me… O Allah…”
I muttered those words after so long I had left the track.
“If this punishment is to wash my sins, I accept it wholeheartedly.”
***
I hugged my three-year-old son and told him that we were going to see grandpa. I decided to fix what has been broken so long. In my case, Alhamdulillah, Thank God, dad forgave me.
I visited dad regularly until his last day. To see his smile when he played with his grandson was the best thing in the world. Mom was happy that he passed away peacefully. I did too. I am glad I braved myself to see him and say ‘sorry’.
I learnt in life that time doesn’t heal without any condition. To answer the question - does time heal? Heh. No, and yes. Trust me, if you only rely on time, it is not going to work.
Make an effort.
And then, only after that you can tawakkal, let God do His job.
