Death over Disgrace

That day...

I remember this one time I was in high school and had a project with a boy in my class. Having no time after class, due to the school closing hours, we had decided to do it at my house. I had reached home to find that my father was still at work, so we had sat in the living room and had started discussing. As we were working my father had entered through the main door, “zah peh kor yem” I am home, he had said entering into the living room to meet me. As he had stood there, in the doorway of the living room all I remember seeing was his face turning red with anger and disappointment and instead of greeting my friend he had turned around and gone in his room. After we were done with our project the boy had gone home and I had gone straight to my father. I remember he was sitting on his prayer mat. I had moved close to him and as he acknowledged my presence, he had turned towards me and had looked at me with rage filled eyes. Never had I seen my father like that, never had I experienced so much anger directed towards me. With a heart that was trembling and eyes that were filled with tears, moving closer to him I had placed my hand on his shoulder. He had remained quiet for a bit and then while keeping his head bowed he had said that he was disappointed in me and ashamed of himself that he had failed to pass in his daughter what he was taught, failed to keep his coming generations from sinning. With feet that could hold no more and mind that lost its power to contemplate, I had fallen on the floor and had lost consciousness. That night in the hospital my father had asked me to forgive him, for he had become too emotional and had lost his ability to think rationally, he had said that he trusted his daughter completely. Believing in his words and trusting him I had closed my eyes with a content heart.
Never after that incident did I let my father know anything that he didn’t need to know about my life. But I loved how he was concerned about me, surrounded with people whose parents either didn’t care or were so career oriented that they had no time for their children, it was a blessing to have a father who actually wanted to know about my whereabouts and listened to my stories of the day.
To be continued...