Nadiah Alwi

I’m reading a book about a girl whose father passed away and mother left her and her two siblings in their Great GrandMa’s.

She has to be strong for her sister and brother. And, she is a very strong kid. Love her.

She affects me a lot. If she can be that strong, I should be able to be even stronger.

So, here I am, trying all I might to be a strong person.

That is why I love reading so much. And, I make my daughter to have the same feeling towards books and reading.

I’ve been introducing her to both since she was in my belly. And, now, she is crazy about books.

She will be five in June. No, she can’t read yet. But, she knows several simple words–in Indonesian, of course. I just don’t want to push her too much.

She learns reading through games that I invent. And, I believe that one day, she will get there. She will. So, why worry too much?

Most important, she loves books. What’s the point of being able to read without that love?

I hope, one day, she will read my collection of books. I have prepared some for her. And, I want her to be a great person because she reads those great books.

If she’s down, she reads a book, and she will feel better afterwards. Or, when she feels weak, she reads a good book, and she’ll be strong.

Like now, how that book I’m reading managed to affect me in such a positive way.

She always calls me ‘Love‘. Yet, I know, she never means it. That’s the hardest part.

Her love is somewhere, in someone else’s heart.

I only have her body. I thought that would be enough, I thought, I had won. But, I was wrong.

She does call me ‘Love‘. But, she never loves me. Yet, I don’t care. A white lie is enough.

Call me a fool, ’cause I am one.

~ a fool man, the foolest on earth ~