THE LOOOOOOONG VERSION; You’ve been warned! ;P
I am 26 years old this year (2012), and I just realised that I would be 27 when I get married next year (2013). That makes me happy because I’d be getting married at an odd-numbered age, and in an odd-numbered year. I just randomly like odd numbers because I was born in an odd-numbered month. (I just realised too that I’m also the odd-numbered child; the 5th out of 5 children.) If you would like to know exactly when I was born because you’d like to give me a gift, leave your email here and I’d let you know! (Yes I’m shameless like that.)
I’m from Singapore, which is in Southeast Asia and is NOT, I repeat eh, is NOT part of China and will never be. If Singapore is a person, I would say she’s suffering from chronic amnesia. She forgot her history, she forgot that her name was originally spelled ‘Singapura’, she forgot who were her closest friends, both in terms of the past they shared and in physical proximity (they are so close they are practically like her siblings and cousins born of the same parents and ancestors), and the worst thing is, she forgot the language she grew up with (which is why I call the amnesia chronic; language is generally not something ever ‘forgotten’ by amnesiacs).
Malay is my first language, bahasa ibundaku (see even English can’t capture the grace, esteem and refined nature of the word ‘ibunda’ or ‘bonda’), and the one that best expresses my soul. And what are humans if not without soul? If there was one thing that the Malay civilisation (yes we do have one, go and read up your own history) contributed to the world, it would be its language as recorded in many ancient manuscripts
pilfered preserved in universities as far as Russia. This page, I write in English, because I would like the above statement in particular, and the rest of what I say here in general, to be read and understood by a wider audience.
I’m also a Muslim (and no, I didn’t grow up being told that all Westerners are infidels that have to be killed and neither did I grow up learning to make bombs or shoot straight). In fact, Malays, whether Muslim or not (what, you thought Malay = Muslim? Get out of your social cocoon and get yourself some enlightened Malay friends please. The not-so-enlightened ones may also be in their own social cocoon so they may also not be aware that there are Malays who are not Muslims. Now where was I? Oh yes.) Malays, whether Muslim or not, can be the most genial and accomodating of people, and the most accepting of diversity. Which is why you can see that in these parts of the world there isn’t much homogeneity. Sometimes we can be too open and accepting, that it could be detrimental to our core identity.
“I think I think too much,” I once told a friend. You could say I read too much too; I’m the sort who watches a video of a great song on Youtube and I just have to, have to read the comments that follow, no matter how nonsensical they get (Indonesians thrashing Malaysians and vice versa, once you read this you have to repost it or you’ll die in the next 10 seconds, she can s**** me… that kind of nonsense.) The same goes for almost everything else online. I could also finish a thin teenage novel in an hour or two; I can even read while walking.
My thoughts overrun my mouth, so I speak macam kereta api (at the speed of a train, probably bullet), or so my mom says. That’s also probably why I am long-winded in my writing; I have too many thoughts in my head.
So, while I may be a petite girl with an even lower budget for my wedding, I certainly won’t be short on words and ideas.
Welcome to my blog!