Love is Strange

I remember…

me-in-a-boat-cropped.jpg

I was this young…

I remember being strapped into the seat of the old copper brown Nissan pulsar.

My mum (who, Masha Allah, still looks as young now as she did then), would pop in this cassette tape into the radio…and this song would come on…and she’d sing along as we drove.

And I’d help her shift gears šŸ™‚

As a child, I would insist that I open and close the car door by myself…”NO! I can do it myself!!” I would yell, and if anyone were to defy me…you’re in for a world class tantrum šŸ˜‰

The passion and emotion I would exhibit as a child, wailing and yelling and screaming…heh, me and my short fuse…my mum (who studied child psychology), did nothing to snub. According to her, she wanted me to have all this passion and emotion, so that one day I could use it wisely and properly. Perhaps to love my wife fully? Or to fight for Islam with a passion?

Either way, if ever I saw an injustice or I was not happy about something…I made sure you knew about it. And she liked that about me, the fact that even at the tender age of 4, I was willing to stand up for what I believed in.

So how then did my mum (BOOGA!) treat her cry-baby 4 year old? She would wait until her son stopped crying and over-acting…at which time she would take me to one corner and explain in terms I would understand and used logic to make me understand. She NEVER scolded me in public, she respected my pride even at such a young age, she knew that was important in child character development…which maybe explains my (over?) confidence?

Maybe.

All the aunties would tell her to just slap the crap out of the crying brat…but my mum, who was NOT being soft on me or anything…wanted to bring me up intelligently, such that I maintained the good qualities of childhood, in adulthood.

It is rather weird to have your mum tell you all these things 14 years after it happened…to know that your upbringing was preconceived was both cool and weird at the same time.

But I’m proud of the way my mum raised me, and the way she taught me life’s lessons. I still thank her, till today, for raising me the way she did.

Going to an International school, I was always surrounded by outside influence. One of my white friends saw me praying in a quiet corner. I explained to him why I did what I did.

He told me that he was Christian…and that they only pray once a week.

Once a week!

Wow!

Now THAT’S a deal!

I’d better tell mum!

Our God is overworking us here!!

Got home and told mum about this new religion I found!

My mum looked at me…and I saw her mouth something silently (she read a small doa, so that Allah would guide her words).

She then looked at me and asked,

“Aman? How often do you play with and see your toys?”

“Everyday!” I replied.

“That’s right…would you like to only play with them once a week?” she asked.

“NO!” I replied.

“Why?”, she asked…my mum always always always made me think, so that I would learn lessons instead of being spoon-fed.

“Because I love them!” I said. I really did šŸ™‚ Toys were my life šŸ™‚

“Exactly!” she said, “Allah loves us…and He wants to see us everyday…why do we have to be so selfish so as to only let Him see us once a week?”

“Oh yeah…”, I replied, thinking about it…she made sense.

I then ran off to play with my toys šŸ™‚

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And the song playing in the car was Mickey & Sylvia’s ‘Love is Strange‘, and everytime I hear it…I’m strapped back in the stiff seat of that old copper brown Nissan.

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Stay safe everyone,

And 20 years down the road, I still open and close the car door myself šŸ˜‰

Aman

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7 Responses to “Love is Strange”

  1. You know, your mother is a good example of the kind of someone who I really want to be in the future. Send my regards to her, she’s a great person, in my opinion. An inspiration šŸ™‚ God bless.

  2. Hey Ike! Welcome back šŸ˜€

    God willing, we’ll BOTH be like my mum. She was a great parent and I’m so proud of her.

    Whenever we did something wrong, she would ask US (my brother and I) HOW we should be punished. We had to give her our opinion about our punishment…and this brought about a sense of fairness of the appropriate punishment for the misdemeanor.

    She always made us think.

    We always had discussions about everything and I loved all of them šŸ™‚

    In my typical ‘I can do it myself’ fashion, if you look at the picture in the post, you’ll notice that my mum did not hold my hand in the boat – she ALWAYS holds my hand…but no,

    “I can do it myself Ma…”

    šŸ™‚

  3. and were you holding your…nahh i’m not going there =)

    Old habits never change huh?

    SUP’ BRO!!

  4. You know…

    I post a picture of me as a child…and write a sentimental post about my upbringing…where I came from and what it means to be to have a mother like mine…

    And all you can focus on is my crotch.

    Tsk, tsk, tsk…

    And you wonder why I get worried when you wear a pink shirt…

    SUP BRO!!!

    You so wacky~~

  5. To those who are wondering…yes, I know look like Alvin the Chipmunk and YES I WAS a Michael Jackson fan since THEN! šŸ˜‰

  6. look at this sleazebag. vainpot~

    and no, i’m not jeles hehehe~

  7. kaka miza Says:

    Aww…little hairball…

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