In memory of "Bayin"

April is now my least favorite month of the year, it's the month that I lost him......

 Bayin was very athletic. He is a fast runner. When he runs, he doesn’t look up, instead he tilt his head to the side (senggek) and then he runs as fast as he can, stomping rather hard just like a bull. If you are close by you can feel the vibration on the grounds. 

Bayin was a keen swimmer too, he can hold his breath for a long time under water and when he swims, he swims almost to the bottom of the pool, like a crocodile. Often we don’t even realise that he is there until suddenly you feel a pull at your leg, for a child this cause great panic as we scream at this under water monster.

Bayin was very competitive, if he plays badminton, he plays in earnest, smashing and jumping up high to smack the shuttlecock.

He was also very good at table tennis. He was excellent at tennis and volleyball too. He stance was always ready and in attack position. If you are an opponent, this messes your head, as his stance and focus can be very intimidating. Everybody would rather be on his team, because when he play, he play to win :)

He most favorite’s game is wau. He will pull over while driving if he sees there are kites in the sky. When the kites’ cuts loose, he will drive to look for it, while we wait in the car. Then he will climb the tree to get the kites. He buys all sorts of thread for his kites, even ones that will cut your finger while playing, every kites he earns even if they are old, he treasure them like a pricy trophy.

Bayin loves playing carom and I think he enjoys it because he often plays it with four his brothers. They will get very competitive in the game, he always wants to win. Sometimes the game gets very intense.

He loves gardening too. Not many people know this about him, but during the last 10 years of his life he spends a lot collecting plants and gardening. He talks about his garden fondly. He selects the plants carefully, from the fragrant flowers to hanging pots. He loves them for their smell, their shape and form. It’s probably the common traits he has with his dad.

Bayin was an animal lover. I think most people know this about him. He treats them with respect; sometimes it gets a bit too much, my mom used to get annoyed.

Bayin was a risk taker. In my books, I would categorized him as taking uncalculated risk, but to him I’m very black and white and I will sabotage my own chance, because I’m busy calculating that very chance. I guess we will always disagree on that debate, but his life is nothing short of adventure, full of ups and full of downs. When it is down, its rock bottom and he keeps it to himself. The middle grounds are rare. But when it ups, he is over the moon, he shares what he gets.

During his lifetime, he gives zakat always, often and consistently. Let it be if he has little money for himself, he shares what he can afford. When he cannot afford it, it makes him sad, and often he puts himself under a lot of pressure. I love him for these traits.

He taught all of us the importance of respecting and caring for the elderly. He does this diligently; it may be only 15 min of his time at a time, but he visits and contribute what he can to the elderly.

He speaks 4 languages fluently and an extra quite well.

He reads the Quran well and knows most verses by heart.

He was a very physically strong man; he can lift me up, no problem. He physical build is his assets. Not to mentioned that he has the most charming smile, and for those who know him, knows he is not shy in using his charm.

He is a sore loser, even when he is playing with us, kids, he wants to win. He often hides the scrabble titles under his sarong, and monopoly money under his legs. It’s with great pleasure that when I grow up, I did beat him once or twice.

He walks on his toes… well you know , jalan jinjat.

I have to mention about what a wonderful cook he was. When he visited me in Dublin, he was shocked to see my kitchen lacks equipment. He purchased this huge stockpot. I was thinking what-ever for, we will never use it. He cooked fish curry in the whole pot and asked me to pack it up to distribute to my friends in Dublin. That’s the man he is.

If he needs to criticize, he does straight to the person. Despite what others says about him, he have never said anything about them to me, negatively.

He wakes up daily at 4.30am and works hard till late. He is never afraid about being poor but never too proud about being rich. He has no sentiment to his assets, they are just tokens and stepping stones.

He is not afraid of dirt whatever it maybe, he is lives his live to the fullest.

He had a beautiful handwritting. He takes great pride in it. He often frown disapprovingly everytime he sees my handwriting.

He is a storyteller, he can keep anybody entertain for hours.

He is a singer, he sings well and he were never shy to perform. 

Mathematics is natural to him, he was born mathematically talented. 

Bayin (nickname for Ibrahim) was how my daddy used to address himself, so  affectionately, only when he is in the company of people he loves.


Above all, Bayin  was a very good son. He lives to earn his mother’s love. He looks after her well and she is probably the only woman that he loved consistently. My dad died on his mother’s lap, on Friday morning around just before 12pm as he was preparing to go for the Friday prayer. Even at the very last moment of his life, he listens to his mother. My grandmother told me that my dad keeps drifting off and occasionally he opens his eyes as he calls out for “mak”. She told me she knew his time has come, she asked him to wait until she finish her prayer before he go, and he did. After his mother finished the prayer for him, he passed away on her lap. He may have failed at being other things, but he was always a good son.

My dad is not perfect, but he is perfectly human being with all the success and flaws that any man can see, he makes no attempt to hide it. He is not a fake. His choices used to worry me, I worry about his health, his finances, his life. I would’ve chosen differently and we often argue about this. We are so different like night and day and yet we love and respect each other for our differences. 

I never got a chance to take care of my dad when he was sick. I keep thininking, what use is a daughter who was not there to look after her sick father? That is my biggest regret I shall carry forever.


Why am I sharing with you such a personal story?


Sometimes we can be overly critical of someone we love, without thoroughly understanding them. Sometimes we are too busy with our life; we forget to visit our parent or grandparents. Sometimes, we forget to enjoy the little things in life, the games, the fun times and the little things that makes us laugh because we are busy seeking all the material things life can offer. 


I wrote it to honor my dad, and I wrote it for me. I’m just documenting it for you. 

If you are kind enough to hadiahkan pahala Al-fatihah for my dad, I'll be grateful.

I love you daddy, then, now, always and forever.

~fida.i~