Lonely Garden - A Father's Day Tribute

Lonely, literally, because in that 5 acre piece of land, because in the midst of the thick bushes and tall lalangs, the only thing that moves in between it, bending down and kicking up dust as he moves along, is my father.

It's hot and sweltering. At 12 noon, the heat is enough to cause any joker to start to enter a state of illusion, to begin to hallucinate, to get fainting spells, to become dizzy and lethargic. At 3 pm, the heat waves could cause a heat stroke at anytime.

And there he is, in the middle of that lonely garden, pouring fertilizers, occasionally shaking trees to make sure that no fertilizers are caught in between the shoots because it could kill the plants. He brushes the lalangs that get in his way as he wipes the sweat that trickles from his forehead. In vain he tries to cool his scorching hands with his warm breath. He wipes the little beads from his neck to no avail.

From a distance, I stop to look at my dad. From that distance, he looked so small. The field was so big, and in the middle of that big field was my dad. A lonely figure, as lonely as the garden. Like the garden he worked in, he was always on his own. In places which were always scorching, putting himself in tight and painful spots, never allowing himself to break and rest even when the situation speaks otherwise.

Nobody would ever understand. I couldn't initially. I couldn't get myself to understand why of all places my father chose to work in such tiring and sweaty conditions. He could have easily opt for an air-cond office with nice leather seats. He could have looked for a high-tech lab with the most sophisticated equipments. But instead he went for the simplest job of farming in a 5 acre field with nothing other than palm oil shoots, grass and shrubs.

That garden, was not a place for leisure or hobby. It wasn't gardening that he was doing, it was farming and research. It was a place of sweat and tears, of pain and agony, of heat and scorching, of suffering and crying out.

I was with him for 2 days. I went through a fraction of the pain that he went through. I saw how hard it was to earn those few bucks he earned over the last half a year since he started work in that garden.

Then I realised, there wasn't a reason behind my father's choosing to work in that garden.

Simply because, there wasn't a choice in the first place.

Behind that decision to work in the farm, was my family. My mom, my brother and me. Someone had to feed us and put the bread on the table. The government well wouldn't do that for a retiree, so he had to do it. And when nobody wanted to offer an old and experienced microbiologist a better job, he had to go down to the garden.

A father naturally does what he believes is best for the family. Any father would obviously do what he feels is best for his children. A father would go through the fires of hell and the waters of the sea just to make sure that the people he loves are safe and well.

And with that reason behind their actions, no one else would understand nor comprehend.

Only when one day I become a dad with children and a wife to take care of, only then would I look back in awe and comprehend fully the wisdom and the love behind the decision of my dad to work, bend and survive in that lonely garden.

The greatest Men in this world, are always the dads. When the mother rocks the cradle, they change the world for both the mothers and their children, making it a better and a safer place for both of them. Sometimes dads go unnoticed and forgotten, and though they never complain or whine about it, deep inside their hearts is a longing for a bond and relationship with the people they love. Simply because they are men with muscles and strength, they are often overlooked as the people who need love and care.

But that perspective of mine changed, the day I stepped foot in that lonely garden. Everything changed when I saw my lonely father toiling to make sure that his family will never be lonely again.