This poem is written in Malay Language, my homeland's national language. It is written in the spirit of the celebration of Malaysia's 62nd Independence Day. It is not meant to condemn or based on any specific ethnicity, or person. It is purely from the heart and mind of mine for the love of my birth country, a moment simply for my homeland. Sejenak untukmu Aku bukan bukan Melayu kerana aku cukup Melayu, cukup Cina, cukup India, dan cukup lain-lain kaum. Aku anak Malaysia. Aku bukan bukan Melayu kerana aku atuh pada rukun. Rukun aku rukun negara. Usah disindir kepercayaanku kerana aku bukan calang-calang orang. Aku anak Malaysia. Aku bukan bukan Melayu. Aku tahu Melayu, aku hormati Melayu, dan aku cintai Melayu kerana aku anak Malaysia. Aku bukan anak India. Bahasa ibuku Tamil, kampungku pekan Melayu, sekolah rendahku sekolah Cina. Kerjaku merantau dunia. Kini sudah dekad lamanya aku dikota Lon...
Every time a writer writes, she reveals a bit of herself... just a bit. The rest is purely imagination. I still see her — clear as day, though it's been years. Amma at the wooden table, her back slightly hunched, hair pulled into a tired bun. The house would be quiet by then — dishes washed, clothes folded, lights dimmed. The smell of coconut oil and cumin lingered in the corners. Midnight. Maybe later. She’d sit with a chipped cup of coffee, the steam curling into the silence like a quiet ritual. And she would write. Not for fame. Not for money. Just... because something in her had to be put into words. It looked like breathing, almost — the way she would pause, stare into the distance, then bend her head and begin again. Her stories were filled with emotion — layered, subtle, steeped in the textures of everyday life. Women with untold stories–who never got to speak. Moments of quiet rebellion. Love that waited, sometimes too long. Dialogues borrowed from overheard...
It was a normal end of school day, I was ready to pick my boys from the Shine Club- the after school club, right after concluding my very own fabulous chores in the classroom that I work. Everything and everyone seems so busy, I picked my boys and just then I remembered, I left my bag in the classroom that I was covering previously. So, I went to the other class, got my bag and exited through the main office when I saw, the familiar face, the most respected figure in my life, my idol and my world, my everything waiting there for me and my boys with her kind smile, she held my little-one's hand and the four of us started walking home...and this is in real-time until I was wide awake when my nightly brain saw the fair flash of the wintry sunshine through the little opening of my blue velvety curtain. Time was 9 am and never in my life since I became a mother myself, I slept till this late morning. I woke up with a smile, feeling loved once again by the most important person in my li...
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