How’s Life?

I feel a little guilt-ridden for leaving my poor blog to die. It’s not that I don’t have anything to blog about, it’s just that penning (or actually, typing) it down in black and white proves to be quite a challenge when you don’t know where to start.

Okay, let’s start with updates.

I’m still here, deep inside the jungle, (Kidding, it isn’t such a jungle, or I wouldn’t have free WiFi here) and my exams have just ended as of around 12.10am this morning! Yes, I am happy and relatively stress-free for the next couple of days. Know why? Because those were only my trials, I’ll have the real exam in about a month’s time! So yeah, this time, happiness is VERY short-lived. A little while before the exams, our college had two festivals, FESNI and FESKOTT, one is for the Performing Arts (Festival Seni) and another is for Sports (Festival Sukan). I really enjoyed both, although I’d only expected to be involved in one.

Now that the exams have just ended, you’ll probably ask me why I’m still here. Usually, after exams, the “Balik Kampung” exodus would ensue. Everyone would be busy packing bags and hurrying to the LCCT, probably the first ones to board the plane, in hopes of reaching home in the shortest possible time. But not this time, no. I’m not going home to my beloved Penang, because classes resume on Monday. I’ve got to learn to do this, because I can’t be pining for Penang when I’m all the way in India.

Updates aside, lately, I’ve been thinking about who I am. Let me be specific, this was triggered by something I read, it went like this: “I’m a Malaysian first and then a (insert race here).” A simple statement, but it speak volumes. I often ponder on whether I’m a true Malaysian or not. Then again, who can really define a Malaysian? Well, for one, I use “lah”. I’ve drunk teh tarik. I’ve eaten potong ice-cream. I’ve played Pepsi-Cola. I’ve parents who often shopped for rotans in the pasar malam. It’s rather hard to define a Malaysian.

Just because you’ve done all those things, or because you do what average, everyday Malaysians do, doesn’t make you make you Malaysian. It’s a lot more than that. Being a Malaysian is knowing where you belong. It’s about knowing that you’re part of a big family, it’s about knowing where your home is. Being Malaysian is about accepting others as your brothers and sisters, and being accepted as a brother or a sister in return. A true Malaysian is one who loves their family, and when you love someone, you stick up for them, you forgive their mistakes, you learn from them and you share with them. You don’t care about where they come from, or how they look. It doesn’t come easy for me, but it’s a long learning process.

Sometimes, it’s good to remind myself. Where was I born? Malaysia, of course. Where have I spent all my life? Malaysia, of course. Where have I had the happiest of memories, the most priceless experiences, the best of friends, the warmest of homes? Where do I belong?

Malaysia, of course.

Advertisement