Through My Children’s Eyes.

 I watched Badak on Netflix thinking it would just be another Malay film to pass the night.

I didn’t expect it to stay with me.

I didn’t expect it to feel personal.

The story revolves around a father and his daughter.

On the surface, it looks simple. Rough father. Emotional distance. Unspoken love. The kind of relationship that exists more in actions than in words.

But as I watched, I found myself uncomfortable in a quiet way.

Because I recognized him.

Not the exact character. Not his mistakes.
But the weight he carries.

The silent pressure of wanting to protect.
The fear of failing someone who looks at you like you are their entire world.

As a father to my sons and daughter, that hit differently.

There’s something about fathers and sons or daughters that is rarely loud.

It’s not dramatic declarations. It’s not poetic confession.

It’s protection in small gestures.
It’s worry disguised as sternness.
It’s love that sometimes struggles to translate itself into gentle words.

Watching Badak, I realized something.

Sometimes our children don’t need us to be perfect.
They need us to be present.

And presence is harder than strength.

What moved me most wasn’t just the father.

It was the daughter.

The way she sees him. The way she tries to understand him. The way she loves him despite his flaws.

It made me wonder:

How does my kids see me?

Do they see my effort?
Or only my exhaustion?
Do they feel my love clearly?
Or does it get lost in my silence?

Movies rarely do this to me. But this one didn’t just tell a story.

It held up a mirror.

When the film ended, I didn’t immediately move.

I just sat there.

Thinking about time. About growing up. About how all my kids, my boys and daughter don’t stay little forever. About how one day, the way they remember us will matter more than how we intended to be remembered.

Fatherhood is not about being a hero.

It’s about being consistent.

About choosing patience when you’re tired.
About choosing softness when it’s easier to be distant.

About making sure your children never doubts that they are safe in your love.

Badak isn’t just a film about a father and daughter.

For me, it became a quiet reminder.

To speak more gently.
To hug longer.
To show up even when I’m imperfect.

Because one day, they will tell their own story about me the same way I did for my dad, Abaji.

And I hope, in their version,
I was there for them.

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