Swimming Against the Flow

When I was about fourteen years old my father handed me the book he had in his hand. He put a bookmark ( it was a folded golden color paper found in a cigarettes pack) on the page he was reading, and flipped back the pages. When he found the page he was looking for, he pointed the lines in the middle of page.

"Read it."

"Ikan yang berenang menentang arus keras isinya?" I read it out loud. -The fish that swims against the flow has a solid meat.

"Abah, I don't understand."

I was home from school for two weeks first term semester break. It was hot outside. I was sitting at Mak's feet in a living room and bitching about the uztaz at school. She listened as she patched together the colorful fabric of hexagon pieces. I drew and cut the templates earlier out my old exercise book covers. It was her third patchwork lemek-two layers cotton blanket.(I'll write about how both of us stumbled upon quilting and patchwork which was new to both of us some time in the future).

Both of my parents knew the little incidents I kept having with ustaz or ustazah during Pelajaran Ugama Islam (Islamic study) since I was in elementary school. I wrote about those incidents in my previous entries.

I held the book and flipped the front cover. It was Pak Hamka's book. I forgot what was the tittle of the book but I never forget  those words. I handed the book back to my father.

"It means if you're different from the rest you have to be strong......."

"But......" My father didn't give me a chance to give him an excuse.

"If you're weak, then you're like the rest of the people around you. Always nod and nod their heads, accept everything without a question. They do not dare to think differently."

"Wise and humble person wouldn't call names. If your ustaz knew the answer he would've told you so." Mak didn't look up from her stitches to make her point.

I looked at my mother as she wasn't listening to me, "But Mak, the stupid ustaz said I was thinking like kaffir."

"How does he know how kaffir's thinking? Was he a kaffir before?"

It was one of many talks I had with my parents about being different, being truthful to myself, not to get angry to be labeled and names calling. My father used to say if each of us were given a thousand year to learn about ourselves, we still won't be able to learn it all. So, it's better the short time we have we use to look at ourselves rather than looking at others.

It took me a long time to get over the anger when ustaz said I was thinking like a kaffir over a question he couldn't answer. My mother was right some people turn around and change the subject when they don't know the answer.

Comments

[anasalwa]

You're absolutely right.

[-[Uh-miR]-]

I have to agree with your father.. Being different doesn't mean that we are being wrong.. Instead, we have to be strong.. Religion will always be a point of debate, to the point that it should be left as it is.. A personal relationship between you and God..