Staying in a hostel has its perks. Amongst making a new family and making memories for life, one blessing we often overlook is, observing other humans and their relationships. Well, in my case, I took the liberty of observing my friends, and their relationship with a certain someone, their father. And to my surprise, I realized, how my relationship was entirely different.
I was the youngest and of course, Abba’s favorite. I remember he always brought a cake when he came back from the office, just for me. He is very tall, so I had to sprain my neck, to see his face. Just like his height, he was a man with honor and high intellect, with a soft heart.
Even though he lived abroad most of my childhood, I felt not once that he wasn’t physically present. We used to be in touch always, updating him about every single thing, and of course, he loved surprise visits. Whenever he used to come, he used to bring a bag full of chocolates for us. He would take us on rides and would wait for us to finish our studies so that we could have dinner together, always serving us first. But he hated school, So, he would always stand on the road, waiting for us to come out, and by the time we did, he had already indulged in debates. Everyone knew him, and some would often salute him too.
He always treated me like his friend. There is no topic on earth, that I can’t discuss with him. He is always open to discussions and we would often talk about hours on anything. During the protests, he allowed me to go to protests and talk about issues and when I saw my friends struggling to get permission, I realized my father’s trust in me.
But no, he never liked me or my sisters going out after 5. It wasn’t like if we had work, we couldn’t go, but no loitering unnecessary after 5 in the evening. I did not have a problem with it, to a large extent. While to others, it seemed controlling and gave out the idea that my father wasn’t modern enough, to me, it seemed like he cared more and it never felt like he was curtailing our freedom. While he was giving me wings, he made sure I knew my religion and decide what was allowed and what wasn’t.
Even though my father is 6ft. tall, he has a remarkably soft heart. A heart that is filled with so much compassion, love, and forgiveness. In a world where toxic masculinity is the norm, my father proudly accepts his emotions and doesn’t shy off from showing them. He has made sure to give us a part of his heart, but it’s a long way for us to be capable of holding a heart like his.
When I see the world around me, people of my age, I’m so thankful to my father for raising me so beautifully as someone who is so sorted with her religion and world and for most, for giving me a beautiful home in this chaotic world. He raised all of us to be confident and brave. He didn’t pull us back or asked us to be quiet when the government crackdown began, instead, he asked us to speak even louder. He let us fly, making sure we are grounded too.
Even though my abba’s heart is as young as it can get, he is getting old. But he does a 12-hour shift, comes home, cooks, and cleans. My heart aches to tell him to just rest now and take on some of his responsibilities. My heart wants to hug him tightly and shower him with all the love. He has sacrificed a lot for us to be these bold, confident, and beautiful humans, but most of all, to lead a comfortable life.
While we celebrate mothers, we sometimes forget to celebrate our fathers. So, this is a shoutout to my no.1 human and the apple of my eye.
You’re not a superhero abba, because I refuse to equate you with any man-made word, You’re my abba, more than any superhero, because Allah has made you a father, a roof over all of us.