I snapped this scene on my phone, just as I had snapped out of my reverie concerning said scene, and as my mum and I were driving away. That reverie, dear reader, was derived from the cascade of mixed emotions and repressed memories that inundated my mind, as elicited by the stark reality that I was beholding. As I sat there in our comfortably plush, air-conditioned car, a striking dissonance to the ramshackle, often sordid, and occasionally putrid local produce market in which a small community thrived and depended on, and which just so happened to be where my mum was currently shopping, my mind started to wander. The first of many anecdotes that emerged in my head related to memories from years ago, where, as a child, I so petulantly and somewhat ignorantly longed for an escape from this life of 'filth’ and ‘unease’. And escape I did, at the age of 15, turning on 16, to a land that I, and no doubt many others, deem as being more progressive, civilised, and cultured. This was no other than Australia, and I truly believed, at my unripened age, that I was finally ‘emancipated’ from the society in which I had no say in being a part of in the first place. Now, you may be thinking that I was an avaricious ingrate, and you may be shaking your head in disapproval of my ignominy… but the truth is that I actually do agree that I was and probably still am, an ingrate, and I myself feel defiled by my own selfishness. Truth be told, there is nothing erroneous in wishing for and/or pursuing a ‘better life’ or ‘golden opportunities’, or in feeling slightly envious of people who have been born with a silver spoon in their mouths, because all ambitions do start with the seedlings of dreams, no matter which corner of the world or class of social status you belong to. However, things start to teeter precariously on the precipice of going egregiously awry when we become so consumed with renouncing our backgrounds, race, or even our own names, as a largely futile means of being ‘accepted’ into a revered society of elitism, OR worse still, as a means of attaining a sort of artificial peace of mind, through the subtle art of deceiving ourselves that we should and can ‘eradicate’ the parts of our cultures that we’ve been ideologically brainwashed into thinking are inferior. When put under that sort of light or lens, suddenly the possibility of a neo- Holocaust seems all too real and even startlingly ominous, especially as we realise that we ourselves are the oft-unknowing perpetrators of our own identity’s demise and subsequently, that of our nation state’s or cultural heritage.
With this in mind, allow me to return to this photo above. On the left we have an emaciated stray dog, one out of many that roam the streets and alleyways of my hometown every day, in search of shelter and food, and that is now seen foraging through a discarded disposable plastic bag, forgotten by a careless shopper or weary vendor. On the right, we see one of those vendor’s trucks, a commonplace vehicle on roads here for transporting migrant workers or produce, and which doubles as a makeshift shelter for strays, away from the searing and harshly unforgiving sunlight (if you look closer you’ll notice one of the inconspicuous form of yet another stray dog catching 40 winks underneath the truck’s tray).
These simple objects/subjects are plotted against an even more minimalistic background, devoid of the hustle and bustle of its short-lived peak hours, and which is a more low-key representation of local business settings here (as opposed to foreign franchises and larger stores stocking manufactured goods). Overall, this picture connotes and conveys ambiguity; it appears peaceful and unpolluted by the bells and whistles of the 21st century, yet at the same time it is a symbol of the dire need for proper drainage and sanitation networks, effective animal welfare systems, as well as for more ethical political and economic reform in the state. Moreover, it is merely a minute glimpse into life in this city; a paradoxical highlight at most, and I say this because there is so much more to the bigger picture beyond this, in terms of both negative as well as positive aspects.
This is the nation that my forefathers arrived at centuries ago, and which I ‘fled’ from as soon as I could, centuries later. We, as humans and sentient beings, are always searching for the ‘bigger and better’, in turn overlooking the positives around us as we so foolishly magnify even the tiniest of negatives. I was caught up with rebuking the education system, bashing rote-learning and lamenting the state of school facilities, as well as condemning the political and legal system, fraught with corruption, fallacious democratic rhetoric, and the opaque laws that pervade… and I truly believed that the fail-proof solution to my predicament would be to run away from it (ideally to somewhere substantially different and ‘advanced’). This is where my self-deception lay, and where I should have taken heed of a potent message my late maternal grandmother had passed onto my mother, and which my mother passed onto me: which was to be grateful, and to feel blessed to live in such a “heaven on earth” like Malaysia.
It’s true, that the Malaysia I know now is far from a utopia. But neither was it paradise back then, nor Australia, where I study and live in for most of the year, an ideal haven either. Although Malaysia is certainly not as developed as nations like Australia, in terms of its infrastructure, public systems, and the like, and may appear to be fraught with corruption, otiose norms, and verboten oppressive issues, the plain truth is that no man’s land is without its troubles; this was the exact ball that I had missed all those years ago, when it came to my biased and unfounded judgments.
I must confess; I was ashamed of where I came from, and therefore, who I was. Coming from a country where the use of indicator lights is largely redundant or a perceived inconvenience, and where back roads are riddled with pot holes that fill to the brim during rainy weather due to deficiencies in drainage systems, and comparing that to the highlight reels of countries far away from my own, I felt a seemingly insurmountable urge to quell these inherent tenets of my life.
Now, after years of blindsiding myself, I am ashamed of being ashamed. My country, my name, and my heritage… are innate parts of me and are indelible extensions of my cultural reality and physical being. And perhaps, most importantly, they should be, and are indeed, a source of pride as well as a cause for gratitude in my life. The emancipation of mind and soul does not culminate from external factors, but rather from an internal sense of acceptance, an embracing of the given, and the wisdom to discern good from bad, from what should and should not be done.
I was so caught up in trying to attain a certain level of comfort and ‘perfection’ for myself (and as I mentioned earlier, there is nothing wrong with wanting great things for yourself), but this made me selfish and desensitised towards the bigger picture vis-a-vis the macro, meso, and micro level issues faced by own community, nation, and the world beyond; issues such as wealth inequality, international relations, public welfare, and the economics surrounding the lives of people around me. Now, I am grateful to have been bestowed the wisdom and knowledge of hindsight and age, so that I may begin to question the dynamics and underlying factors surrounding these issues, and hopefully come up with viable and compassionate solutions to them, as opposed to simply physically and mentally running away from them in cowardly, one-track-minded ignorance as I did when I was a teen.
Truth be told, Malaysia is very much an endowed country, in terms of natural resources and human capital. And it is developing, albeit at a slower pace than some of its counterparts (whether you choose to analyse this phenomenon via a modernisation or dependency approach). It is blessed with lush landscapes and idyllic natural attractions, and has a temperate (but sometimes muggy) tropical climate. It has its ups and downs, just like any other nation on this planet does. Moreover, it is relatively peaceful and free from the influence of xenophobia, and hosts an overall thriving and vibrant community that finds pleasure in the simple things in life.
It would be unnecessary, irrelevant, and too complex to even attempt to count every single blessing and curse in every nation, and dynamism and subjectivity themselves would exacerbate this exercise of futility. And that, dear reader, is why the habit of only examining subsets if information, be it positive or negative, making biased attributions or judgments based on those observations, and viewing the scenes before your eyes in isolation (literally and figuratively), is merely self-deceptive, and counterproductive, to say the least. Beyond this bubble, this single mundane image above, therein lie images of resilience, humility, diligence, and resourcefulness, all steeped in a rich infusion of history and uniqueness. There are a myriad of exuberant colours beyond the bleak manmade horizon, and most importantly, there is life. And where there is life, there is hope, no matter where we are. It is within ourselves, it is universal, and it is the unifying force that all of us must seek to harness, and to generate in abundance. Indeed, it is all that REALLY matters, at the end of the day.
I know now, that I should not and cannot run, nor hide, from anything.
I choose to embrace everything…
beginning from what I am a part of,
and in preserving the things that are a part of me.
But along the way, I also hope to give back, to share, and to help make wherever I am, a better place to be.
gummygunk
ellievsbear
kaledo-art
jbbartram-illu
