A
few curious people have asked me about the time I got slapped in the
face by my Dad; this is because few weeks ago I wrote a post about a Malaysian couple living in Sweden who were arrested for allegedly hitting their son on the hand.
Like
I mentioned in the earlier post, growing up I was never really hit.
Maybe a handful of times by either one of my parents. So when it did
happen it was not something that I forgot easily. Especially, an
incident that took place one particular night...*cue ominous
music”*..
I
was about 9 years-old at the time and I was following my Dad to the
Mosque for night-time prayers. Now being a somewhat energetic and
mischievous child when not in school (as a student I had decided to
take a vow of silence) I was given very simple instructions by my
Dad. I was NOT to play or run around the Mosque.
Since
I was a somewhat energetic and mischievous
child I forgot what he had said the moment he left me alone.
Maybe if I was alone I could have behaved myself; unfortunately the
presence of other children made that impossible. It's like asking
Dexter not to murder people (albeit people who we wouldn't mind being
murdered) or asking Sherlock not to solve crimes with style.
Besides
being energetic and mischievous I am also accident-prone. Which is a
very bad combination in a 9 year-old (I've mellowed quite a bit in
now.) Anyway, long story short I ended up playing hide and seek with
a couple of other children. In an effort to avoid the seekers I
decided to climb a low wall (roughly 6 feet); I managed to climb up
on one side but the moment I got my foot over the top I lost my grip
and fell head first onto the concrete. (#Fail)
For
some reason as I was writing this post I thought of a line out of the
Mighty Ducks “Take the fall! Act Hurt! Get indignant!” Well, I
couldn't “act” hurt I was hurt and I was dazed and
confused. I was really “lucky” since there was a drain close by and
I could have easily fallen into that.
I don't know how long I blacked out for, the moment I came to I had a headache and I touched the side of my head and realized I had blood on my hand. I was still in shock and slowly I made my way back to the Mosque and I knew I was in trouble when one of the guys there saw me approaching and looked panicked.
I don't know how long I blacked out for, the moment I came to I had a headache and I touched the side of my head and realized I had blood on my hand. I was still in shock and slowly I made my way back to the Mosque and I knew I was in trouble when one of the guys there saw me approaching and looked panicked.
I
was surrounded by a few adults at this time and someone had gone to
fetch my Dad. When he got to me he took one look and that's when it
happened; I got one quick slap to the face. In my Dad's defence it
was on the spur of the moment. It still hurt though. I guess a few
people held him back a bit and told him to calm down. He then took me
by the hand and we went straight to the car and headed for the
hospital.
That
was probably one of the longest car journeys of my life. I exaggerate
of course, it was only about 5 minutes; but on top of the headache
and my face hurting, I got a severe telling-off for not being
able to listen to simple instructions. On the bright side getting
slapped in the face really cleared my head.
I
did end up having to get a few stitches and luckily I didn't require
a serious operation. The Doctor just gave me local anaesthetic and
proceeded to stitch my forehead. I think was scared at the time and I
asked my Dad to hold my hand, which he did. I'm pretty sure at this
time he felt really guilty for slapping me in the face.
There's
one important thing you need to know about my Dad; he is afraid of
blood. Maybe “afraid” is too harsh (I wouldn't want
him to read this and give me another slap for making him look bad.)
Let's just say he wasn't fond of the sight of blood. A few years back
when I required a little surgery it was my mother who held my hand
while my Dad sat in the corner reading my Archie (erm..I meant my
sister's) comics.
For
my Dad to hold my hand was a pretty big deal. Of course, he didn't
want to look directly at my injury so he held my hand while he was
crouched next to the operating table. It's kinda funny now that I
think about it, Gawd only knows what the Doctor and nurses thought.
I
guess I can call myself lucky if that was the worst punishment I ever
received in my life. And I did talk about it with my Dad recently and
he regrets what happened. Some people would say that I should have
listened to my father; or say that my father shouldn't have slapped
me in the face in the fist place.
For
me, it's a memory I can always look back upon as a moment when I
realized that my Dad really did love me (not that I had any doubts)..
P.S. In an update to that story of the Malaysian couple - Their children have finally been brought back to live with their relatives in Malaysia. The couple are still being remanded and will soon be charged
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