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| My Dad circa end 1960s. |
MOVING HOUSE? We might be moving house. It has been in the offing for some time now. I was talking to my dad about it and he asked what should be done with all the furniture and knick knacks that he has (via my late mum) accumulated over almost 4 decades of marriage.
One of the items which I thought we would dispose of is our old keyboard organ. “Its pretty old, you know, so I think we should get rid of it.” I said. My father however said, “No, no… I want to keep the organ.”
“You want to keep the organ?” I sought clarification because I thought he never really cared much for it.
“Yes.” He answered. “Mama (as in my late mum) gave it to me as a birthday present.”
MY DAD THE PIANO MAN. I recall the first time the musical contraption arrived at our old house some 15 years ago. For about six months my father diligently tried to learn to play the keyboard, taught by a Chinese girl who would come to the house in the evening.
GRANDFATHER CLOCK. The only other impressive birthday present my father bought himself was a grandfather clock. I remember him showing off the towering clock with some pride to the bemusement of our visitors. This was some 3 decades ago. In those days, my house was rarely empty of visitors.
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| My Mum circa 1959. |
FROM FAT SALOON TO ULTRA COMPACT. For the last 2 decades in government and another decade plus in the banking sector, my father was driving or being driven in a Mercedes Benz. A year or 2 after my mother passed away however, he sold off the huge saloon and bought a nippy little compact car called the Kelisa. It would be hard to find a smaller and cheaper car in the market.
My dad was never much for ostentation and luxury. And I think he kept the Mercedes all that while because my late mother would have never allowed him to change the car.
We have been living in this house for the past 10 years. In that course of time, people have been born here, people have died here, people have been married and divorced too. So the walls of the house is full of my family’s sweet and sorrowful memories.
I write so nonchalantly about moving house. But deep down, I know that if we do move, it is gonna be an emotional wrench for everyone concerned…
134. The House
Ah! Seeker!
If you desire only to see where I live, enter!
You are most welcomed to admire
The ornate carvings, the high arches,
The beautiful murals and prayer niches.
But if you wish for more,
If you wish to build your own house,
Ha! Your sight must become keener,
And you must dig deeper,
To see the foundations hidden under;
Blessed of all are those
Amongst Allah’s servants
Who can say,
“What my tongue extols, my heart feels and my hands do.”
Pax Taufiqa.
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