Why Do You Write?

For as long as I remember, I have always written. When I was old enough to get a diary courtesy of my working siblings and father, I had always written. Scribbled anything that caught my attention. We were always encouraged to write letters and postcards to friends and siblings. Compared to the others, I was always a regular letter-writer. When Kak Ti was in England to pursue a 2 year course back in the 70's, I was the regular writer sending news of home. I became Bapak's secretary to write letters to all his children. They were everywhere either studying or working. Until we got a phone. Still I continued writing to Sue who was then in Australia and Adik in USA to further their studies, and Hana who was then attached to Malaysian Embassy in Tokyo.

I also had a few pen-pals from all over Malaysia and overseas. Bapak would give extra pocket money for my stamps, aerogrammes, envelopes and writing pads. When I was in college and away from home for the first time in my life, I wrote a lot to friends and family. Letters were very important to me. They were my link to home and familiarity. To security and love. To a sense of belonging in a world that was new, lonely and unfriendly. They filled a void that only words could. They touched my soul and refreshed it. They gave me hope and encouragement.

Writing was to me .... my silent thoughts. My secret hopes and yearnings. My undisclosed longings. My unfulfilled desires. My love. My hatred. My likes. My dislikes. I used to write my pent up emotions and feelings in my diaries. I had a diary every year and I took them with me everywhere I went. They were my private thoughts. I remembered a diary where I wrote and documented my first pregnancy until I had a miscarriage. It was a painful, lonely and grieving period. After losing my father and old friend, I thought I was immune to such loss. Being alone in KL and recuperating on my own as Noor was in Alor Setar, made me a recluse. Until I finally picked up the pieces and went on with my life alone. Keeping myself busy with my work and activities.

When I moved to Alor Setar as my transfer was finally approved at the end of that year, I stopped writing my diaries. I burned all my diaries and had a funeral for them. My collection of short stories was also sacrificed. I did not want anybody to read about my life. Thus, I stopped writing formally until I discovered blogging.

Blogging was like a breath of life in my craving for letting out myself. Since I hardly talk about my problems, troubles, sadness, happiness .... anything .... I started blogging. Besides, my mother was afflicted with Alzheimer .... thus, I started writing again by recollecting my past memories. Before I forget them. Linking my past with my present. Appreciating what I  have now compare to what I had then.

I wrote about my parents, incidents, friends, events .... family. Since I love people-watching, I wrote about what I see, feel, like and anything that touches me. I have always enjoyed writing. It is like an outlet for me. Although I discover that as I age I am more diplomatic in my writing so that no one is offended. I write with my whole heart and soul .... as of everything I do in my life.

Why do I write? To chronicle whatever is happening at that moment of time. For my sons to read and know their mother. For an old friend to keep in touch with my life here. Yet, although my blog is not known to my family or Noor, I have more than 22,000 readers. One day ....

 

Malaysia Day - My Final Celebration

15th September 2015. A very wet Tuesday. It was still hazy but the situation had improved considerably since last month. Now it was the southern states that were badly affected. It was a day of celebration for the closing ceremony of the 58th Merdeka Day celebration and Malaysia Day the next day. It was a mixture of fun, gaiety, sadness and a sense that it would be my final stint of joining in this celebration. I sang with gusto the usual Merdeka songs especially "Warisan" by Sudirman. I sang together backstage with the performers' choice of Merdeka oldies. I did not realise that the school photographers caught my happy, carefree self singing those songs. I just laughed at them. I was not an easy target for photographers. In fact, over the years, most of the yearly school magazines had very minimal photos of me in it. Oh well ... this was my last year. :-))

It was supposed to start off with a parade of the uniform bodies in their full regalia and followed by the decorated motorcade. The heavy rain dampened that plan. So, everybody gathered in the hall and watched the performances, the choral speaking finalists, speech by the Principal and a special and surprise performance by a group of boys - Bar-Rism. A new fad in town - street workout calisthenics. I was very proud of these young guys who requested to perform as they were not in the itinerary. They wanted to promote this form of work out which worked on team-work, strategy, agility and trust. For our students, this was an achievement in itself.

We had a cake cutting ceremony celebrating those students and staff born on 31 August and 16 September. The usual paraphernalia to celebrate was there - the balloons, the colourful, sparkling confetti, birthday song and blowing party horns. We finally sang the Merdeka theme song -"Sehati Sejiwa" and walked out of the hall with the strains of "Warisan" accompanying the exit. What dampened the day was the back to their lessons that followed after it ....hahaha ... back to reality ... I really felt that it should be a whole day celebration just to get into the mood. But ... exams are just around the corner. The school, teachers and students are already under pressure and stressed for time ...

It was a good celebration. I had always loved celebrating my country's any festival or special days. This would be my last time singing all the patriotic songs publicly with the students. After this ... I guess I would just be glued to the television and celebrate with it ..... ;-))

The students sat in their respective uniform bodies wearing their T-shirts

The finale .... a hall of students singing the theme song "Sehati Sejiwa"

When Words Are Not Enough ....

Ever heard of the phrase "voices in your head"? When there is so much to say but you just cannot find the words? You feel that no explanation fits whatever you are feeling or going through? How do you explain the reasons why you feel so right when it is so wrong? Thus, you keep quiet and keep listening to the voices in your head .... or heart ....

"What do you see in me?" "Why me out of all the many girls that you met in your life?" "What is so special about me that you just cannot let me go?"

We  have all gone through the experiences, heartaches, happiness, emotionally scarred, physically painful, spiritually broken, deceits and lies, broken promises, hopes and wishes .... all these have shaped us and changed our perspectives on life, expectations and dreams. Where we were once so naive, so enthusiastic, full of optimism, full of expectations, full of life, vigour and vitality  .... where have all that gone to? We are what we are now. No longer the person we once knew and had known. The years of separation do nothing to separate us yet we are so different now. The simplicity of getting back together, the ease of spending time talking and rehashing the past, the easy comfort of being in each other's company ....  I guess is due to the fact that we have no expectations of each other anymore.

Sometimes when what you are going through feels so overwhelming that in the silence of the night, being alone with your thoughts and Creator .... you ask questions that you have no answers. At the end of the day all you can do is take a deep breath and just do whatever feels the right thing to be done.

Although it takes so long to fall into place and understanding all that you have gone through ... at least you have made peace with yourself and him. Although there are regrets and wishing that if only you can turn back time  .....

Finally, it is how you make the best of the situation. Whoever we are with right now is meant for us and is the best for us as he/she is chosen by Allah for us. Yet, only He knows what and who is in our hearts. "If you cannot have the one you love, love the one you have..."