Life in the “Military”

This shall be the first time, that I write this in my Facebook – rather than my blog or LinkedIn before transposing to over there.


Warkah dari Dad.

My dad likes to write long-winded instructional to me. Something that I used to hate until fairly recently.

My dad placed me in the same school as he was in decades before. Something that I hated because he uprooted me from a place I enjoyed to a totally alien place. I had to re-do everything.

He was specifically trained in the military since cadet days, sent by our Government to learn in England and Scot. Came back and fought actively for our nation. A water polo captain, gymnast etc.whatever I’m not. His medals, basically a magnet attracter and he is very handsome too with a sharp European nose.

Very so often he would tell us our family history and what-not.

When I was younger, I had traced the source of how he found the name, Erasmus in a Reader’s Digest (yup, that’s how I got the name from).

When younger as well, he would toss and mess up my bed, and ask me to pick up and set the bed. Not satisfied, he will do it over and over again. He will then make sure I study my maths, like what he’s “commanding” my child to do these days.

He even took turns to bring me to his workplace – the tour of his stations. Always am impressed with the work stuffs. And he kept all the things properly locked away. The files all in dark blues and with specific gold lettering to says, keep your hands to yourself, to stay away from me and knock it off.

Things that he say, he does – stop his chain-smoking and shaving his grand moustache off. After his military life was completed, he still maintain himself well.

At 3 years old, I spotted my daughter talking to him about, how she would miss him if… I don’t know if she can’t remember what she had said when she was that young.

I let him have his time with my child as a replacement time.

Hak Milik Kerajaan.


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