A TRIBUTE TO MY FATHER

HONOURING MY FATHER

It is ‘Father’s Day’ next Sunday, and I felt compelled to write this piece to honour my father who had passed away fourteen years ago at the age of 84.

For the life of me recalling my growing years, I really do not know how my father Mariadass John managed to provide a roof over us and food on the table despite all the hardship he had to face.

Probably it was manageable when I was the only child for the first six years, but after that he had to provide for four others.

MY FIRST BIRTHDAY AT MERDEKA STADIUM RESTAURAN\T

My father was not born with a silver spoon in the mouth and was just a caterer and cook, who managed guest houses for corporate companies and personalities.

Looking back, I cannot imagine that for the first 30 years of my life, we had stayed in 18 places in Kuala Lumpur when we had to move to stay in quarters provided for each time my father had to start a new job after his previous contract ended or the guest house closed.

There were also times in between jobs we stayed in one-bedroom flats or even a rented room in a house where we all stayed in the room and my mother did the daily cooking in the corridors!

Occasionally in a rented home with two or three bedrooms but it was short lived as the rent was high and we had to move.

During times when my father was out of a job for a few months, I remember how my mother and I would travel to my uncle’s home in Tampin, where my grandmother would purchase groceries for us to take back for our food for a few weeks.

My father’s salary was not big, varying anything between RM300 to RM1.000 in the later years, and my mother assisted him by preparing the European meals for the guests at the guest houses he worked.

Yes, many had moved houses with their parents as their uniformed fathers were transferred, but had transportation provided.

I still remember my father having to hire lorries to transport our things from one home to another and had to borrow to pay for the rental of lorries.

Probably the only luxury I and my brothers and sister had during the earlier years was that we lived in Kenny Hills (now Bukit Tunku), in quarters provided sometimes two room quarters but mostly single rooms.

Just to name some of the places I had stayed with my family in Bukit Tunku area include:

·       Jalan Mercu (six years – quarters at TNB House)

·       Lorong Maxwell (three years – quarters at a horse trainer’s flat when KL races)

·       Jalan Dalaman Tunku (2 years – one room quarters - Barlays Bank)

·       Taman Duta (3 years – two room quarters - Barclays Bank)

·       Bukit Gulliemard (2 years – two room quarters - Ford)

·       Jalan Maxwell (2 years – one room quarters – Alfa Laval company)

·       Jalan Tugu (1 year rented house)

·       Other places we had to move and stay:

·       Jalan Broadrick (rented flat)

·       Jalan Tiong Nam (rented room in a house)

·       Lorong Kasipillai (rented house)

·       Sentul (rented room in a flat)

S   Selayang Baru (rented house for one year)

      Jalan Parry – 2 years - one room quarters (late Tunku Abdullah Residence)

·       St John’s Bukit Nenas - two room quarters (Brothers’ Residence– 2 years)

·       Jalan Weld (shared a room at my uncle’s working place quarters (six months)

·       Jalan U Thant – two room quarters (3 years NBT Guest House)

·       Persiaran Hampshire – two room quarters (2 years – Austrian Trade Commission)

·       Lorong Jugra, Old Klang Road (rented house – 3 years)

·       Jalan Meru, Old Klang Road  (finally bought a home and staying for the last 30 years.)

It has indeed been a roller-coaster life and it has taught me to appreciate sufferings, be humble, work hard to achieve anything and appreciate life no matter its ups and downs.

But looking back now, I cannot imagine what my father had to go through in brining all of us up, giving us the education and putting a roof above us and food on our table.

My father could have lived more comfortably and been someone, but he had spent his whole life providing for his immediate family and then us.

Born in Johor, to Murugasu John Pillai and Theresa, my father spent his early days in India, when my grandfather decided to send my father and his elder brother (Anthony) to India to be brought up by my grandfather’s parents because of financial difficulties in Malaya.

While my grandfather and mother returned to Malaya, my father and his brother got their early education in India.

Later my father was joined by three more of his siblings born in Malaya and my grandmother stayed back in India to look after the five children and working at the St Thomas Mount Convent to earn some money.

My father had a good voice and was noticed by some musicians who were involved in drama productions and was offered to join them.

But my grandfather did not give permission and brought all of them back to Malaya and moved to Taiping where my grandfather was working.

Initially, he continued his studies at King Edward School but was later put in an Orphan School when my grandfather lost his job and could not afford the $2.50 per month schools fees then.

He did well in school and studied to become a teacher at Beruas, Perak.

Grandfather moved again to Kuala Kangsar and my father was asked to resign his teacher’s job.

Father to earn some pocket money was a part time caddy at the Golf Club near the Palace in Kuala Kangsar.

Then during the Japanese Occupation, Netaji Chandra Bose came to Malaya and started the Netaji Army known as INA and Netaji joined forces with the Japanese Army and my father who learnt to speak Japanese and Hindi, worked as an interpreter.

My father earned a promotion as a sergeant and was asked to go to Singapore on assignment by rail but got off in Seremban when he found out that the Japanese had arrested his parents and sister’s family in Port Dickson.

He managed to get them released but his brother who fell ill passed away later in Tampin.

Disillusioned he left the family and headed to Kuala Lumpur and found job and got married to my mother Rosemary in 1957. But he continued to help his family wherever he could.

His younger brothers, Lawrence Loganathan and Chandra did well to get a scholarship to attend teachers’ training in Kirby in 1959.

FAMILY PHOTO TAKEN IN 1960

Never realising his dreams or true potential, he had spent his life for others.

For me, it has not been a bed of roses either.

I had to work hard, start work immediately after my Form Five, and later joining New Straits Times as a temporary clerk in the library in 1977 – thanks to my uncle LL John Pillai who was the NSTP Sports Club chairman and asked if I was keen to play football for the company and offered the temporary job.

I continued to do my Form Six through Further Education Classes (night classes at St John’s) while working at NST Library and stayed stringer for the Malay Mail Sports Desk at the end of 1977.

Finally joined as a fulltime sportswriter in 1981 but having to make a sacrifice of taking a RM250 pay cut for two years – no thanks to an editor in the interview panel who told me to take it or leave it.

I loved my job and worked my way up to become a sports editor after 27 years.

Left in 2006 after 29 years, but with a final salary of slightly over RM4,000.00!

Was a special media officer for a sports minister for four years, wrote again and returned to Malay Mail for a short stint again and continued to do media work.

But times are bad with the Covid 19 the last one and half years with no jobs and even having to close my 11 years office at Olympic Council of Malaysia but will carry on hoping things will take a turn.

It has not been a rosy road, but I cherish every moment and thank all those who have been there to support me.

But it is my belief that no one owes you anything. If someone comes along and helps you in your time of need, be grateful.

And have been a few whom I am eternally indebted to.

But many had spread malicious rumours about me and even my father (I will not go into details) but I know my conscience is clear and worked hard and honestly for my living.

I am blessed with two great children – my son who is a lawyer and daughter who is a chartered accountant – and I am glad they did not have to go through what my father or I had to.

I have lost my mother in 1997 and my brother, Jeyaprakash (motorcycle accident in 1993).

My youngest brother, Jesu Adam and sister Kasthury are in Kuala Lumpur, while my other brother Johan Jothi resides in Oman with his family.

I miss my father and wish I could have told him what he meant to me and how much I appreciate his sacrifices when he was alive.

So, for those of you who are lucky to have your parents alive, tell them how much you appreciate them and take care of them.

Afterall, they took care of you to become what you are today. Never neglect them and regret it later.

Happy Father’s Day.