“Ecstatic, life-affirming joy.
Then I took a shower and cried.”
- A, at being asked how he felt
today after his cousin regained
consciousness from a two-day coma.
“Bapak!”
- Myself to S, who recently
welcomed a beautiful daughter.
“My Gaydar can’t be challenged.”
- Two seconds before the
Universe proves J wrong.
“GODDAMN TREES!”
- E, after tripping over a box of
WTO files from the 90s I had
dragged out of the archives and
left in the middle of the office.
I usually make a wish on my
birthday. Yesterday I didn’t.
Instead, as I went to bed last
night slightly before 20 May 2013
gave way to the 21st, I resolved
to become a better person.
Starting with the small things.
Bismillah.
xx
Lord,
Grant that I may not so much
seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love, with all my heart.
With all my heart.
Being back in Luang Prabang this
time feels more personal to me.
I’ve truly missed this place, with
it’s uneasy sense of rusticness
and sweltering heat.
I see a lot more now, of the people
and the places and the notes and
carvings; gilded plaques left behind.
Perhaps, best left to a dedicated post.
Being away this time has also been the
hardest. I haven’t stopped thinking.
A friend helped me realise that I
skipped a step in my rush to
accept what has happened.
In my rush to accept everything,
I forgot to stop making excuses
for Mubeen’s callous actions.
I forgot to doubt my own naivety,
to remind myself that sometimes
people say or do things with self
serving intent. Even the best of them.
Between focusing on not losing
Mubeen and willing myself to be
genuinely, gracefully happy for
him, I forgot to be angry at how
much I was taken for granted.
In my rush to accept everything,
I forgot to take care of myself.
Never, ever again.
I want to come home with a clear heart.
What’s going on with my countrymen?
Have we learnt nothing from the
past 50 years of overcoming
multiracial adversity?
I can pray as much as I can for
us to rebuild solidarity but Ya Allah
I think so many people need a big
kick in the face for such needless bigotry.
Please come back from this, Malaysia.
“..[R]acial politics is the disease
to which it pretends to be the cure.”
A man I spoke to in the queue today
shared with me a piece from the New
York Times he was reading on his
smartphone. This one-liner sums
up my vote, and potentially those
of many others out polling today.
Il cinque maggio. Forza.
Of dashed plans
Came up with an elaborate plan for
Mother’s Day weekend with Mama -
tickets booked; scents picked out.
Then I remembered that I will be
in Laos for work a week from now.
Oh, Neens, you scatterbrain.
xx
Of young ambitions
“Did you know that the word kugiran
stands for Kumpulan Gitar Rancak?”
“… That would have been an awesome
name for our brother-sister project.”
“With your singing? Yeah, no.”
At this point, Abang probably
recalled all those times in London
I spent standing in his living room
and presenting my case on why
we should embark on a musical
roadshow as a brother-sister act.
“But this could have been us!”
I gestured to the car cd console,
where Jesse and Joy were playing.
“No.”
“But – “
“NO.”
My shower tiles would beg to differ, thanks.
Because, let’s face it, we are all guilty of
having held private stadium rock concerts
in the confines of our bathrooms, aren’t we?
xx
Of the soul
Sometimes bila solat I don’t
quite know what to talk about,
or ask for, to calm this horrible
sense of unease in my chest.
“Minta hati tenang,” kata Mama.
“That’s all you should work towards.”
I’m trying. But this is frightening.
xx
Of roadside observations
Do you space out sometimes while
driving? It’s like there is this internal
autopilot button that switches on and
gets you from Points A to B without
realising how you finally got there.
(In hindsight, I really hope this
isn’t the case for everyone else)
On the drive home from work yesterday
evening all I remembered was watching
two young pups by the roadside, wet
from the unforgiving downpour, as I
waited for the red light at a junction.
They looked like street dogs; scruffy,
fur ridden with dirt. One had taken
cover in between the shrubs while
the other pattered by the road
side, disoriented from the rain.
As cars drove past the shaken pup
would yip and cower by the curb.
Finally, the other young puppy
darted out from its temporary
shelter, nudged his friend up,
and herded him back to the
safety of the shrubbery.
My light turned green.
As I drove past, they were both
looking back out into the street
from under the wide cover of
a massive leaf overhang.
Way to go, canine comrades.
xx
Of PRU 2013
Will be going back to Sekolah Agama
Rakyat Melawati tomorrow morning
to fulfill my civilian obligation for
the grandmother of all elections.
As of today I am undecided on
which is the lesser of two evils,
but by tomorrow I will hopefully
be crossing out my ballot with
a better sense of certainty.
My friends and family will be
crossing different boxes because
they genuinely believe that one
particular leader and party will
bring this country forward, and
resonates well with their values
and beliefs. The truth is that we
will never really know who will
keep to their promises, or what
really resides in their hearts.
But we can do our part, right?
Stay safe, friends.
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