We forget how young we still are. We talk about how far we’ve come, how much we’ve accomplished and all the wonders we’ve achieved, but at heart, we’re still young; inexperienced and flighty. A cub longing to run off with the older wolves in the pack. We’re not hanging at the wolf-mother’s teat anymore. We’ve let go, and started taking the first few steps on our own- we even ventured out of the den a few times, but we’re not quite ready to stay out for longer periods of time to chase and hunt.
In my mind, our nation is the young maid, pausing at the threshold of the bedroom on her wedding night. She knows that the minute she steps in, nothing will ever be the same again. She longs to let go of it all, but at the same time, she’s unreasonably sentimental and a tad afraid. Who’d blame her though? She’s got every reason to worry. Her body is her’s alone, and that right is sacred.
Looking back at our record as a nation, I think we’ve done incredibly well. Surpassed expectations, as some might say. We’ve lowered poverty levels and somehow managed to experiment in almost every available sector possible. We seem to have a tendency of making ‘The World’s Largest/ Tallest/ Longest (insert superlative)’ objects. We still make headlines globaly every now and then (most which make ex-pats groan) about comments made by MPs on gender and fixing the leaking roof of our Parliament building when Parliament was actually in session. Racial unity is a big, sensitive issue, and at times it’s been sorely tested (1969, several spates in the early 2000s), but somehow, we’ve managed to hold on. I say this at fear of sounding foolishly optimistic, but deep down, I know that we’re going to be ok as a nation, because we’re still too young. We just need time (and stop comparing ourselves to other so-called developed countries- jeez, talk about peer pressure).
I’m not back in Malaysia for our 50 th Independence Day, but my heart goes out to it. Happy Birthday Malaysia. We’ve come a long way, and we’re going to go even further.
In my mind, our nation is the young maid, pausing at the threshold of the bedroom on her wedding night. She knows that the minute she steps in, nothing will ever be the same again. She longs to let go of it all, but at the same time, she’s unreasonably sentimental and a tad afraid. Who’d blame her though? She’s got every reason to worry. Her body is her’s alone, and that right is sacred.
Looking back at our record as a nation, I think we’ve done incredibly well. Surpassed expectations, as some might say. We’ve lowered poverty levels and somehow managed to experiment in almost every available sector possible. We seem to have a tendency of making ‘The World’s Largest/ Tallest/ Longest (insert superlative)’ objects. We still make headlines globaly every now and then (most which make ex-pats groan) about comments made by MPs on gender and fixing the leaking roof of our Parliament building when Parliament was actually in session. Racial unity is a big, sensitive issue, and at times it’s been sorely tested (1969, several spates in the early 2000s), but somehow, we’ve managed to hold on. I say this at fear of sounding foolishly optimistic, but deep down, I know that we’re going to be ok as a nation, because we’re still too young. We just need time (and stop comparing ourselves to other so-called developed countries- jeez, talk about peer pressure).
I’m not back in Malaysia for our 50 th Independence Day, but my heart goes out to it. Happy Birthday Malaysia. We’ve come a long way, and we’re going to go even further.
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