It is still vivid in my mind how tears flowed freely from my dad's eyes when he finally broke the story to us all, the story that was so personal that not even my mother new it.
It all began one night when we all were immersed in another tear-jerking Malay drama on television.
Candidly these words blurted out of my sixteen-year-old mouth: "Dad, why didn't you ever go back home to your parents in Rembau? It is a great sin for a son not to visit his mom and dad..."
As sudden as the words came out, so too was his reaction to my probing questions.
"It is not like what you all are thinking. I am not an ungrateful son..."
He was all tears and sobbing terribly as he began to narrate his childhood story to us.
It all began when he felt that, probably because of his darker complexion, he was not loved as a son was expected to be loved by a father.
One night, just as his father came home, he heard his stepmother asked his father why didn't he give the job to my father.
"Why should I give the job to him? It is better for me to give it to somebody else."
The words nailed in deep into his young heart. He packed his things and got into a night train to JB.
In JB he was taken in by an auntie who raised him like her own son.
"I even share rice with others while working..."
None back home even reported to the police about him went missing...
..to be continued....