Am I…

Alone?

No, a bird’s eye view around her reveals that she is amongst the uncountable New York’s busy, ant-like population walking along the 66th Magnolia Boulevard. A huge, flow of blacken lava flowing between the gaps of high flying skyscrapers, never ending, never broken. It was as the mythical Ouroboros, its head hunting its tail, a beginning with no end.

Under her breath beneath the dark grey canopy she curses her luck. Of all days her car breaks down today. And she have no choice but to travel 8 miles from her comfy studio apartment, now equipped with a brand new home theatre system, where she tunes into her favourite sitcoms all day long, hiding under a hand sewn quilt given to her by Ma, to where she works, 8 hours a day as a corporate slave to capitalism.

The subway then….

#$%&*@#$%&!@#$%&

But the worst is yet to come. Two days ago there was an impeding terrorist threat made on the subway system she used to travel on long before she procure her beloved but modest, second hand Mini Cooper. Now on high alert, there is simply too many security personnel along the subway stations to be able to commute smoothly. Everybody seems to be very conscious about being observed with hawk-like CCTV’s and leering, watchful eyes of those men in uniform. Ironically, both time and things seem to move far more slower when people actually behave themselves.

Might as well take the road then…

…since she is already doomed to be late for work through the works of miraculous force in work this fateful day.  But it is a grand spectacle, to look 50-60 feet in front and all you see is a multitude of people behind the backdrop of the dark grey horizon. Lost, in the sea of people, like a speck of grain in the Sahara Desert. Inevitably, she ponders quietly…

…nothing but a small  part of this vast world…

There was this philosophical work she read somewhere during one of those hair-dressing session in Salem not long ago, out of sheer boredom. It is hard to comprehend how that book could end up in a hair-dressing saloon, lying in wait for its noisy, bullish female patrons to flick through it with disinterested eyes, only to be tossed aside seeing no pictures nor illustration is included in it.

It was said that One is all, All is one. The One, being the source for everything, gives birth to All. All, which is everything, will eventually denigrate into nothingness, and such nothingness returns to the One. A never ending cycle, where the beginning leads to the end and the end give birth to the beginning.

So fascinating… 

So she is nothing but a part of this big, complex ecosystem, yet as minute as she seems to be, she is living part of this community. Having rarely need to interact with clients in her career, she is often perceived as quiet, unassuming, passive. She is no charismatic leader, and have remained an individualistic, independent worker after so many years. Yet her contribution to the society is immensely underappreciated; she helps design and regulate software for the great New York City’s traffic control, sewerage system and utility lines. Right at that moment, she imagines what will happen this this great city if she never exist.

For another while waves of emotions rush into her. It has been months since she was in a relationship, and is not in speaking terms with her father either. The nature of her job means that she often deals with computers, blueprints, maps, numbers…

So…Alone…

She breaks her stride and stop in her tracks all of the sudden, facing upwards as if making a plead to the Gods above. Yet nobody finds her sudden pause intruding or offensive, going on in their own way, simply avoiding her statuesque  figure by making a detour around her, then proceeding with longer strides to make up for lost time. If people are the cogs that  make the whole machine work, she seems rather unimportant, unnecessary, redundant. Life goes one with, or without her. The days roll by whether she runs or pauses. The world goes round and round, again, in a circle-like motion, years after years.

Am I alone?

Si Tenggang’s Dilemma

 

As of this stage, time, space, I find myself in a mire of doubts, anxiety and dilemma. A dilemma once so mythical, so unreal that nobody really give it a thought, or even considered its existence. But this, an embodiment of irony and satire, is now a reality no true Malaysian that has ever tasted life beyond Malaysia can escape unscathed, unblemished, unhurt. 

It is only common and logical that people expect great and majestic things from those who were given the opportunity to seek knowledge and skills beyond the four borders of this country. Hard-earned money toiled with blood and sweat of the rakyat freely given, poured out to fund these expeditions of the few that they may obtain the unobtainable, due to lack of insight and farsightedness of the Malaysian academia.

To put it simply, we are to learn what made others strong, that we ourselves may become strong.

But alongside sky-high expectations people had of us also came serious scrutiny and criticism of every single things that we do that is considered a blasphemy in the eyes of our people. It is ironic that our own people, who funded and sent us away on these quests for knowledge and skills, are the very same people that also discriminate, ridicule and belittle us. The very same people that wished us Good luck! are also those who are prejudiced against us, indifferent to whether their judgment are merited or not.

Many people do not realise that the culture of a society is the dynamics for success and development. I do not blame those who cannot understand this, because they were not blessed with the opportunity to experience and observe this truth. We left on a mission, to learn and acquire whatever that may strengthen us. But when we return we were crucified and prosecuted for the fruits of our labour that they cannot comprehend nor understand due to the nature of our very own culture.

We learnt that autonomy of decisions, freedom of thoughts and humanistic values of the individual are the very foundations of the Western civilisation; the very groundwork that strengthens the individual. When every individual is strong, the collective is also empowered. But our society does not value these; autonomy is subdued by the power hierarchy and bureaucracy, freedom of thoughts restricted by the limited understanding and the ability to comprehend revolutionary ideas or methods, humanistic values bound by the belief where the “benefits of the collective always supersede the individual”.

Ironically, the political, ideological and economical beliefs of this nation often only benefits those placed in the highest echelon of the community. The very same policy-makers that sent us miles across the ocean to bring back creativity, innovations and breakthroughs. They made us different, empowered, stronger, passionate. But they also enacted policies that attempt to break, subdue and force us back into perfect submission. Stronger, but not at the cost of overthrowing the current regime.

But none of these are comparable to the agony, pain and anguish inflicted upon us by a simple act of indifference. Right at the moment when you were defending yourself from fiery arrows shot from multiple directions, right at the moment when you need someone to just show some empathy and understanding, right at the moment you need some friendlies among packs of bullies, the very person you think you can depend on simply shrugged off all expectations with these cruel words: “I can’t do anything, that goes against the higher-ups”.

Imagine, how deep this betrayal runs. Shivers running down your spine, disappointment seeping through your soul. Imagine.

So please do not claim that you understand nor comprehend how we feel at all because know we know you do not. We had expected more from those whom we placed our confidence in. I expected better. I expected that someone who studied overseas would understand our plight and cause. But unfortunately and sadly, it seems we got to fight on our own.

It is said that the nail that sticks out will be hammered. Maybe, the very heart of the Malaysian dilemma runs deep down the culture and mentality of the Malaysian people. Maybe those who thought outside the box were simply denied the opportunity to exert their capabilities. Maybe those who exhibit traits of creativity and hardworking are simply forced away from the resources necessary for their grand ideas to take shape, thanks to the economic disparity and endless bureaucratic procedures of this country. Maybe every Malaysian nail that stood out were hammered away, ending up being enlisted and incorporated by the societies that can accept them, making full use of what they have to offer.

“One man’s poison is another man’s meat”

The dichotomy of the Malaysian society is simple: you either stand out too much, too long that you are no longer welcomed in your own home, or you live long enough to see yourself become the very same people that changed you into one of them. It does not take an epiphany to understand Malaysia suffers from “brain-drain” with our huge pool of talented, brilliant and far-sighted minds at our disposal siphoned away to other countries such as the UK, Australia, Singapore. Only those societies that can and willing to accept minds that are critical, creative and innovative can  have any possibilities of advancement at all. Those who do not seek to improve, can expect nothing but only regression. 

I am truly disappointed, let down, hurt. This dilemma is proving to be a very tough battle between conforming to the norms and culture of this society, or remain being the nail that sticks out that everybody takes a dig at, that everybody hates, that everybody detests. But I sincerely pray, with all my heart and soul, that I would not live long enough to see my passion, principles and beliefs engulfed and drowned, betrayed by my own conformity to the norms of this dim and depressing society.

 

- A Knowledgeable man understands his Era-

- A Wise man challenges his Era-

- A Great man creates his Era. -

 

Sincerely,

Si Tenggang the Prodigal Son…