I beg that no one mocks me in private or public about this post, because I am not good about being vulnerable to feelings. But here it goes:
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Written on Sept 25th, 2009:
A week ago, I was taught the lesson of true love.
It came unexpected - a spontaneous and in the moment kind of fortunate experience that I was lucky to witness, for it taught me what pure love is more than what I have tried to understand in my 20 years of living.
True love is the trickle of heartfelt laughter; it is the singing pitches of endearment; it is the caresses of one’s soothing words and it is the engaging voice satiated with affection and care. True love is longed by many, including me, but even more rare, is the person having it inside his own heart. I might have never gotten to meet even one person with such an envious quality, if it were not for Kadir.
A week ago, he made phone calls to his family because it was Eid. He rarely talks to them, and I could understand the feelings of affection, and I had expected to hear happy voices on both sides of the receiver. What I did not fathom was the genuine warmth that emitted through their voices – the simple acceptance of being part of a family. The simplicity of loving someone because he or she is family is so strange to me but so well-endowed in Kadir that I wept silently behind the chair he was sitting on.
Kadir spoke to his sister-in-law as if they were distant siblings eagerly catching up on each other’s lives. He spoke to the niece he never met with the loving tone of a protective brother – a cautionary strictness that is webbed with endless affection. He spoke to his brother like they were lifetime friends – no awkwardness despite the long time separation: a bond that is unbreakable. Meanwhile, Kadir’s conversation with his father was constantly filled with much advice – ironically enough, not from the dad, but from the concerned son. It was very endearing to know that his dad accepted Kadir’s heartfelt words of counsel with open arms and much humility. In all honesty, I did not know it was possible for a grown man to feel that way. However, it was when Kadir spoke to his mum that broke my dam of tears.
I don’t remember if they spoke more than 3 minutes, or even if more than 3 sentences were exchanged from each person. I do though; have a vivid memory of the voice he used to speak with her: he was gentle, kind, with an unceasing level of sincerity. The overused phrases of “Selamat Hari Raya” and “Maaf zahir dan batin” were suddenly not a cliché. There was a genuine tenderness in his cracked voice, in which both his mum and I became helpless to say anything else. I was moved to tears by his poignant tone, and I’m sure that his mum did too – as she kept silent for a moment or two before forcing the lump in her throat down to feebly wish him back without crying over the phone.
God, how I do remember that day, and the voices, and the candid display of earnestness. I have never seen such a warm-hearted openness of caring for one another. It became something I worship, and fear. What if I could never reach that level?
Regardless of what may become of my cold, cold heart, I learned something that day I was sitting at the back of Kadir’s chair: that the most genuine true love is one that simply accepts, with no conditions. I always thought that unconditional love was exclusively for mothers and their offspring, but Kadir showed how he could simply love with no questions asked.
Maybe this is a concept that is embedded in you readers, but it is certainly something new and foreign to me. Even after a year, I am still struggling with the openness to accept someone full and whole, a characteristic that I never really felt within my own family (I'm sorry to say). I hope that this post will open people to love more and in a more accepting way. As a person who feels judged in most of my life, I will like to be able to forgive and love better - that's my resolution for this year's Ramadhan!
p/s All this love talk makes me feel like John Lennon when he tried to spread the word of peace and love. =)