..afiq. his papa and his spray..

....as I helped Afiq set up his workshop, I came to realise that I did not really know my son...he is my wife's first, and my second..although we grow up together, me into old age and him into adulthood, there are certain things about him that I was to only later discover...he is not as gregarious as his father, of course...or open...rather, he is quiet, almost broody..and there is a certain stubbornness in him which, earlier when he was grappling with early adulthood, I mistook for being wishy-washy...

...a few years back, I remember thinking that this is one son who has to work hard for his money...being paid 50 dollars per week was usual for him...but I refrained from commenting, thinking, rightly, that he was working on honing his skills..but he is one son who is of not much trouble to his mother or me..

..there must have been a time when he had had enough of grounding, polishing and sprayin... and receiving pittance... for apprentices are seldom handsomely paid...even though I raised my eyebrows when he took up job in a factory making diapers, I kept my peace and supported him....it is a highly competitive world he found himself in, and as in the animal world, survival is always of the fittest...

..meantime, we, her mother and I, both worried and prayed for him, most times triggered after reading Harian Metro...it is easy to succumb in the city of neon lights..where DGA, drugs, gals and alcohol are abound...and so, one day when he turned up at the door in Bachok, looking a bit pale and very much gaunt,  and said he had had enough of the big city, we were glad...and like all mothers everywhere, she fawned over him and fed him...

..Afiq working on a car...

..they say a father looked into their children to realise their own failed dreams...maybe so...but pakmat never had any dreams, being the vagabond, drifter and scoundrel that he was...but two weeks later after the opening, seeing Afiq working on cars sent in by friends of pakmat, sensing the pride in him on working on his own, being his own boss, as it were, pakmat rued his youth...those drifting without purpose days where life was on a song and a dance...and he was glad...that Afiq did not turned out to be like him...

..afiq spray...

....not all children turned out the way their parents want them to be...of course, we would want them to be doctors, engineers and rocket scientists, at the very least, being straight-A's students that they are...but not all children are inclined academically...as my son Afiq, 25,  proved out to be...

...attaining sometimes below average results in school prompted pakmat, upon completing his spm,  to enrol him into Institiut Kemahiran Belia Negara, Chembong, Negeri Sembilan for a course in car spraying...where for some years he submerged himself  into the trade, and, in the process, developed a flair and a love for it...but on attaining Level 3, he quit...Level 4 would see him with a diploma..

"I cannot do it, papa...too much writing...paper submissions, written assignments...and I am not good at that..'

..and I said ok...Level 3 it is, now go out and learn your trade...and for the next four years it was some spray workshops or other..from Bachok to Shah Alam...plus stints as Mat Kilang at a factory producing diapers, and even as a waiter a Sudara Resort, Tok Bali.... ...what he earned  was barely enough for him to survive..but he learned to be hardy and resourceful...he learned the value of money...of friendship...and at Sudara Resort, Tok Bali, he met his belle...and learned the responsibilities of a relationship...

...maybe it was her, I do not know...he was not the youth pakmat once was...but sometimes later, he came to me and said that he was ready to start out on his own...and again this father said ok...and with the help of his mother, helped set him up...

..and later, as I helped  hang his banner, I could not help but felt a tinge of pride...no, there was no fanfare...no vvip present...just an old coot and a few friends...but that evening, we helped launched Afiq along his way...its too late for this coot to dream...but for Afiq it was the beginning...go, son...and may Allah be with you...there are many doors to His Bounty...may He opens them for you...InsyaAllah...