Try.

Forever flustered.

I've always thought that I should thank you.

Looming.

It's so dire that it erupts fear in me.

I for one know that I am not ready.

That time of the semester again.

A familiar path.

An uphill path.

A path that I will overcome once more, Insya Allah.

Ready, set, don't go.

This may seem a little juvenile since it's a throwback. It's an essay I wrote back in 2010 for English. My English teacher asked us: "who is the most unforgettable character you've met?". The subject I chose to write about was a no brainer.

There's a saying that goes "like father, like son", something that I found pretty ironic since I'm a girl but I'm highly influenced by my dad.

He may not have the height of Brad Pitt or the looks for that matter, but there is a feature about him that you can't erase from your mind- his wide forehead or 'fivehead' in my own terms, whichI proudly inherited though concealed by my three and a half inch fringe.

His colleagues ceaselessly praised him for being a man who exudes charisma. I couldn't help but agree as one-liners constantly punctuate his presence and he has that added hint of mischief in his smile. Contrasting to his role as a father and a family leader, he's no stranger to bringing up the persiflage in the household although it may have made my mother's blood pressure rise on several occasions.

I've always perceived that my dad was potentially bipolar. I made such an assumption because of his firmness when it came to my studies. I recall the time when I did quite an awful job with my Mathematics exam paper and how it infuriated him. But as a compassionate father, he knew anything numerical was never my forte, hence he tutored me and claimed that an ounce of procrastination, indolence and my lackadaisical attitude was intolerable. It gave me a certain sense of encouragement and it paid off since I managed to score an 'A' for the UPSR examinations. Like all fathers he too was overprotective. My peers endlessly teased me on not getting out of the house to hang out like they would normally do. It made my years as an adolescent a little glum, convincing me to think that I'd most probably get my first date at the age of 40! But deep down, I know that being overprotective was one of his characteristics since i'm his only child, his only little girl.

There were uncountable interests we both indulged in. One that we were absolutely zealous about had to be watching football. My first memory of watching a broadcasted game with him was the 1998 World Cup although I was completely hazy on what was happening. As a kid, I always thought it was a game that required 22 men donning shorts on a green pitch chasing after one ball. But when I reached the age of 10 or 11, I could comprehend why my dad was so fanatical about it: the euphoria of seeing your team succeed. I was green with envy when he told me about the numerous games he attended, yet I was completely grateful on the knowledge about the game he shared with me. It fueled me to secretly give him the sobriquet 'my personal football encyclopedia'. He was also the catalyst behind my dream to be a sports journalist in the future. I'm sure he'd be proud to see my name in the glow of a nine-point byline in the newspaper one day.

Football wasn't the only thing he loved. He was also a baking connoisseur. It's quite ironic in some ways because baking is largely perceived as an activity done by women, not the opposite sex. My dad couldn't care less on what most people thought and continued making lip-smacking delicacies. He soon transformed his favorite past time into a small business, taking in orders from family and friends especially when Hari Raya rapidly approached.

My dad may have found his strong points in baking and being an amateur football pundit, however he had feet of clay when it came to fashion. Being a person who is super fashion conscious myself, I couldn't help but criticize his rather strange choice and terrible taste in clothes. I remember that one day when he turned up at school to fetch me home. He was clad in baggy three-quarter pants, a polo shirt in a vivid fuchsia hue and an atrocious pair of Nike sneakers. My friends giggled as I blushed uncontrollably with embarrassment.

So, my dad clearly wasn't close to being on any best dressed list that existed, but it was the simple gestures that he did which made him 'Best Dad in The World' to me. From braiding my hair ala Rapunzel when I was in kindergarten to bringing me along to watch a Star Wars film (although Sci-Fi genre flicks aren't my cup of tea). I always expressed a grin when he apologized for not shaving properly as I ran my hands through his stubble that felt similar to sandpaper.

Sadly, I couldn't enjoy those blissful moments anymore as my beloved dad, my hero, succumbed to cancer in 2007. It was inevitable that I was going to lose him and at first, life without him was unfathomable. But reality sank in swiftly and I realized that I had lost the most unforgettable character I have met forever.

However, there's still a remnant of him that will remain with me as life goes on and though time passed, my love for him is invariable. His message to work hard and to endure through hurdles is drummed into my mind and I vow to reflect it in my studies.

He may have lost his battle with cancer but my dad is still and always will be a true warrior in my eyes.