FATHER’S Day often invites us to reflect on the men who shaped us.
As a 46-year-old researcher, a professional in the world of science and academia, my life has been a tapestry woven with precision and unpredictability.
I come from a large family – 10 siblings, each with our own stories but all sharing the same foundation: a father who is, in many ways, the archetype of the old Malay tradition but carries with him a progressive wisdom.
He is a man of few words – his presence steady but understated – a quiet force that anchored our sprawling household.
He recently celebrated his 71st birthday earlier this month, a milestone that reminds me of the enduring strength behind his calm demeanour.
My father was a mathematics professor. As a child, I often watched him draw what seemed to be random scribbles and doodles. Only later did I learn those were integral notations and mathematical curves.
I often wondered how he could do complex mathematics without writing any numbers – just flowing lines and abstract symbols. It was a silent kind of genius, one that did not need loud explanations or grand declarations.
Growing up, I looked up to him with a mix of awe and curiosity. He never mapped out my future or laid down plans for success. Instead, he led by example – his actions speaking volumes where words were sparse.
I found myself drawn to academia, perhaps subconsciously following in his purposeful path, believing that I could chart my own course with the same steady resolve.
Before marriage, I imagined fatherhood would be a matter of careful planning.
I envisioned raising children with the same scientific rigour I applied in my research – structured, logical and perhaps even predictable.
I thought my children would follow in my path just as I had with my father. But life, as it often does, had other plans.
Raising five children – some of them now teenagers – has been less a controlled experiment and more a lesson in adaptability.
Each day brings new variables, unexpected results and the humbling realisation that parenting is, above all, a work in progress.
My children, each with their own dreams and inclinations, have chosen to pursue the arts rather than the sciences. Their interests diverge from my own and at times I struggle to reconcile my expectations with their aspirations.
Yet, in these moments of uncertainty, I find myself returning to my father’s example. He never imposed his will on me; he allowed me the freedom to discover my own path.
His quiet support and unwavering presence taught me that fatherhood is not about moulding our children in our image but about giving them the space to become who they are meant to be.
This Father’s Day, I celebrate my father – not for the plans he made but for the plans he allowed me to make for myself.
In our Malaysian society, where academic and professional success often define parental pride, his quiet wisdom reminds me that true fatherhood lies not in directing our children towards conventional achievements but in nurturing their individual gifts.
As I watch my children pursue the arts, humanities and creative fields in a culture that traditionally prizes the sciences, I am learning that the greatest kejayaan (success) we can offer them is the confidence to define success on their own terms.
To all Malaysian fathers learning to celebrate their children’s unique journeys, happy Father’s Day.
Dr Mohd Fadzil Jamaludin is a research officer at the Faculty of Engineering, Universiti Malaya. Comments: letters@thesundailycom
