Freedom Bind

I feel a thousand many things
At work, in front of my laptop
At home, I keep fighting
To keep my pride above the top
of all the uncertainties and insecurities

Be certain, be confident
Do not let doubts catch you off guard
Focus on the results consequent
Regardless of the wires barbed
Wires of everything, wires of nothing
Wires in your mind
Pain stabbing in your mind
Overcome in and you can see the signs
Of freedom bind

Stories of Our Families and The Past

A few months ago, I was commissioned by my uncle to research, investigate, compile and eventually write the history of our families (my father's side) dating back a few generation. There are a number of aspects involved, which I at times find overwhelming. ranging from the availability of sources (relatives that could still recall the good old days) to the geographical context of our ancestral villages in a particular era.

Curiosity was the main key of me saying yes. Family history is constantly a curious thing. Being a member of a conventional tribal group, you always hear these things around you. You know stories of relatives you're not sure how you're related to. You are always a part of the pride that links all your tribal members together and also sometimes privy to uncomfortable information.

It is always an interesting thing to belong. Your existence will always be attached to something in life, something abstract and absent that keeps on lingering in your mind. There is this strange hope inside me that wishes constantly for me to uncover common traits we might have missed out on. Perhaps sources of happiness and maladies did not occur randomly but are inherited from the previous generation to the next. To suffer alone is horrible, to suffer together is camaraderie.

I anticipate that the most challenging aspect of completing this task would be listening about the people who have passed away. They are gone and the only remnants we have of them are memories, which can be quite unreliable. Memories are the core of my curiosity - they sugarcoat reality and turn people into myths of everything that is good. They could be good in real life but is it possible for one to exist and cease to exist with only remembrances of goodness? If truly they were good, it meant that they were loved. If truly they were loved, it meant that they were grieved once they breathed their last. Grief, for me, is merely a manifestation of undying love. The chain continues, displayed by the anecdotes my elders and even my generation remember after all these years. Specific events with specific actions - each detail embedded somewhere in our minds. That's the amazing thing about us humans - some things we never forget.

I noticed that among the elders that I have interviewed, the profound sense of loss was hinted throughout our conversations. "He had always been like that..." "She was highly respected..." "People loved them for they were kind people..." It serves as a timely reminder of the fragility of our existence. People are born to live glorious lives and to die with an impact. We all have the chances to be great people but the journey remains temporary. You and I are just biding our time, trying to be as productive as possible. Today, someone will leave us. Tomorrow, we could be the one leaving.

Morbid, it certainly is. However, it gives me new hope every day. Stories to uncover, memories to preserve. The urgency in doing this is quite profound - I must get to the story-keepers (my elders who have been around for decades) as soon as possible before anything unfortunate occurs. I must get their voices in recording and transcribe the things they say. Then, I must try my best to link all these stories together, hopefully recreating the world my great-grandparents and my grandparents lived in.

What nickname should I give myself? Story-finder? Researcher? Or maybe a daughter quite desperate to find the remnants of her late father among the people he knew? Imagine if he had been alive, I could have asked him to answer all these questions I had in mind. Alas! That is the purpose of history, no? It is never the perspective of one person - all in the sphere must be included to get the most comprehensive version of the stories. Most comprehensive, so that future generations can read and rely on the information we have provided them.

It is important. They should remember us the right way and who we really were.

A black and white photo of my late father when he was a little boy.
The boy grew up to be a great banker, devoted to the only job he had ever known until his early death at the age of 51, leaving behind two wives, five biological children and five stepchildren.

Clouds of Sils Maria - Non-separation of Public and Private Lives

European films are my favourite type of films. They are not the best - Iranian and Japanese would be serious contenders - but I personally find European films to be very enjoyable. The silence and contemplative mood made an impression to me as a young girl of 18 years old. And that was almost ten years ago. 

So I went to watch Cloud of Sils Maria, a film starring the great Juliette Binoche, with my friend Shu Ruei at Cinephilia KL. It was unexpectedly a long but rewarding film. A bit draggy but every scene was able to surprise you with its importance and relevance to the plotline. Every scene was somewhat necessary to the development and revelation of our main character, Maria Enders, played by Binoche. She played an established actress who had to revisit the play that propelled her to stardom two decades ago. A stubborn being, she felt challenged by the various interpretations of the play by people around her - her assistant, her director and her co-star. 

There were a number of things that my friend and I found to be particularly meaningful about the film. The lack or absence of boundaries between the characters' private and professional lives was the one that I noticed the most. One is an actress, another a personal assistant. They were constantly around each other, one rehearsing and another coordinating former's life. There did not seem to be any moment where they were allowed to shed their professional selves and return to their personal existence. They remained who they were within the confines of that identities throughout the film's two hours. 

I find that quite disturbing and exhausting. It is always expected for us, as societal beings, to be completely devoted to our vocation. We pour in our heart and soul. Only those who struggle would achieve greatness. However, in a mamak eatery session after the screening, I asked a question to a friend of mine - "what are we without our vocation? Is our existence cease to be without it? Without what we call 'work', what kind of humans are we?"

I then pointed out the importance of having a public and private space. Living life as a Malay Muslim in Malaysia, I find myself navigating my choices in both quite differently. To be free, I accept the limitations imposed on me and find alternatives. Whatever that should not be made public, I keep it hidden and vice versa. I have also learnt to embrace that I would never be truly free. Therefore, I make do with what I can get. To have a private space and escape the restrains of the outside world - a known Muslim through my headscarf - is a joy I find painfully rewarding. Space is the keyword. In life, you will encounter many spaces that do not allow you to be you. To find a place - or to make or buy or conquer or find it - where you feel safe and secure in your identity or multiples identities has thus turned into a mission paramount to your existence. 

The difference between both worlds - one that does not necessitate multiple spaces and one that does - is striking. Is it the geography or the culture? Are we repressed as a society that we find release in closed doors? For now, I believe it is generally caused by a culture that is influenced by religions and ethnicity - a culture that enforces rules that you follow mostly voluntarily because you know it somewhat benefits you yet denies you your liberty for you know absolute freedom is most likely a myth or a concept that leads you to lose control of yourself. Contradiction at its best. 

Law and order has that ability to provide one with a sense of structure. To have a yearning to be approved by the society is what compels me to create boundaries among my multiple identities. It is the only way I know how to deal with the limiting circumstances of my life and find happiness and be satisfied at the same time. 

- Check out Cinephilia KL for information on film screenings that will blow your mind away. 

Live Your Life As You See Fit

My new motto, exactly.

I have made a new promise to myself this year. I will stop going out of my way to support people. I will no longer go out of my way to provide help. Love, for me, is to live and let live. I care but will not care that much.

It is your life.

Do whatever you want to do.

I love you and I support you in whatever that you want to do.

Be happy. Be miserable. Be content. Be whatever.

I love you anyway.

Even if I don't, do not let it affect the way you live your life.

We are not bound to each other.

You can choose to love me or not to love me.

I can choose to love you or not to love you.

I am 27 years old. Most of my friends are older than me. Practically adults. I believe that adults are capable of making their own decisions. Good decisions. Bad decisions. Decisions of completely no consequences. Do it. If that is your choice, great. Fine. Do it.

It does not matter how much I care about you. At the end of the day, your decision does not affect how I live my life. Therefore, my decisions should also not affect your life.

I have great friends and family members. Supportive. Caring. Loving. Yet our lives are generally independent of each other. I love company and a trustworthy circle of friends. However, I am also a person who values isolation, contemplation and respectful distance.

If we cannot be healthy and toxic-free around each other, please maintain a respectful distance.

If you cannot speak to me in a compassionate manner, please maintain a respectful distance.

If you find that I am no longer a desirable friend but find it hard to tell me, please maintain a respectful distance.

Nobody forces you to be around me and nobody can force me to be around you.

We can text each other once in a while. Perhaps call. And occasional meals sound great.

What I want is for myself is to stop pretending that I am the person you think or thought you know.

We may have changed so much, we no longer have anything in common. You know what, that's fine.

We have nothing to talk about. That's fine, too.

Please. No more of this enforced friendships.

Do whatever you want to do.

I hope that you are happy.

If you are not, I hope you find your days manageable.

Love and familiarity do not last forever.

Things change. Things evolve. People come and go in our lives.

To wake up and stop caring about the person I used to be close too - that is unexpected but somewhat natural.

My personality evolves every single day. And yours should, too.

Consider your choices.

Make decisions.

Breathe.

And live your life as you see fit.

I wish you all the best.

Freedom of Detachment

The most powerful lesson I have learnt this year - 2018 - is the freedom of detachment. 

The phrase came to me while watching a French film, Of Gods and Men. In the film, seven Christian monks who had lived a quiet, productive and harmonious lives among their fellow Muslim villagers in Algeria were kidnapped by Islamist terrorists. Based on a true story that happened twenty-one years ago, I was deeply inspired by the values and choices made by the monk. A character called Brother Luc stated in one scene that he was a "free man". They could chain him, they could torture him but he remained and chose to remain a free man. It said a lot about our perception of freedom. Is freedom a state of mind or a state of the body? Does a prisoner of a conscious mind possess more freedom than a free citizen with an obedient and structured life? 

It could be the answer to a lot of the internal battles I have been facing of late. For the past few years, the keyword of my life has been 'attachment'. I am attached to a great many things in life. Friendship, family, affections, filial duty, human rights, activism, literature, fame, pride, work, reputation, productivity, reading, achievements and ambitions. Constantly, my mind works in a way that is processing all these attachments inside my head, balancing everything and making sure that my brain space could accommodate things that are important. The internal battles also fit perfectly into the current narrative of my identity - a teacher in a learning centre who is also a postgraduate research student and an occasional activist. Multiple identities lead to multiple focus. By allowing myself no spare time to contemplate or even act on any doubts or confusion I have in my mind, I am pushing myself to move forward amid the struggles I myself fear to acknowledge. 

What are these fears and why are they crippling me from the inside? 

What am I afraid of?

1 - I am afraid of the dark. 

In a literal sense, I am scared of the dark. I do not like not being able to identify how things are placed around me. I do not like the mystery and absolute nothingness. Clarity allows me to know and be in control. Applying it to life, the dark could mean many things - evil, negativity or rock bottom. As of now, I identify the dark as the uncertainty of my own path. What are the reasons of me doing what I am doing and where do I want to lead myself to? Life as an educator and a learner can be very lonely indeed. As an educator, you have your students to keep you company and intellectually stimulated. However, as an adult learner constantly trying to unlearn and re-learn what you have known, the journey to your own thought process can be very isolating, indeed. Are you doing the right thing? Are you in the right path? Are you sure your values are absolute? You answer these questions on your own. 

2 - I am afraid of being a lesser version of whom I thought I am. 

I am turning 27 years old this year. Despite the worries and anxiety, I am living the life I have always dreamed of. Like most of us in Malaysia, we do dream of going away and living in a foreign country for various reasons. I do have such dreams - mostly because my perception was that I would have more freedom there. It was, of course, a flawed opinion. I have quite given up on the dream now or stopped wishing for it. I am an educator and extremely passionate about it. I am pursuing my doctorate albeit with great struggle to balance my time. I am still a part of a feminist organization I believe in. However, I feel exhausted. I feel like my time is running out. I feel like I have failed not in a larger sense but in a smaller scale of things. I fail not in terms of achievements but in character. I feel like I have yet to have a grip on this life that I have wanted. I can only be considered what society deems a 'proper individual' when compared with the other adults around me. Each time I ask myself 'have you got this?', the first answer that comes to my head is a definite 'no'. I am struggling.

Why? Because I am not as good as I thought I would be. I achieved all that I have ever wanted to do by this age and yet, I am aware that I could have done better. And the age of maturity is still elusive to be. I am still nervous, unsure and not confident. I have not my shit together. 

3 - I  am afraid of the changing nature of my attachments. 

What if you wake up one day and realize you have no obligation to care about things or persons you love so much? Decisiveness has been a recurring theme for me. I know who I am. I know what I want. Most of the time, I know how to want it and how to get it. As of late, I have been questioning that a lot. Not all attachments, no matter how intense they are, benefit or enrich you. Some may even be harmful and toxic to you. Therefore, attachments should always be re-assessed. The saying 'follow your heart' - to what extent can you trust it? Is your heart trustworthy? Urge, lust and desire have the power to overwhelm you and rob you of your truly independent senses. Therefore, how free is your free will? How free is your free choice? Attachments - I keep on asking myself about them on the nature of their necessity. 

4 - I fear rejections and consequently, the wants of things that may reject me.

Rejection is yet again another reminder that my best version of me is not the current version of me. I believe I have had a misguided version of the 'best version', the same way people think that 'perfection' exists. It is almost like religion, heaven, hell, faith and other abstract notions. I think of myself as having this goal - or an ideal person - to be and in the ideal world, the ideal version of me would be loved and appreciated and never to be rejected by anyone. Therefore, any form of rejection, may it be in work, relationship or feelings, indicates failures and that is horrifying. I do not like failures and I particularly do not bother to be reminded by it. Some days, I wish I wake up never to be affected by it. I wish I would do things the way I want just because I want to. I wish it is that simple. I wish I have gotten rid of the sense of shame and break free from the need of approval. The craving to seek belonging or validation of your own capabilities can be very strong. I was conditioned to be as such since the day I was born. I hope that one day I can be free of it. 

I hope this essay would serve as a reminder to myself. I dream of the freedom of detachment and I accept the fact that I am far away from it. However, I now take an oath to never cease in working to free myself and divert my fears to more productive activities of doing rather than worrying. 

Ruby, 7th of May 2018, 10.52 PM, McDonalds. 

The Power of Insecurities

Although I admit that at times I enjoy isolation, I am a firm believer that life should not be enjoyed with isolation per se. I don't believe it's a happy way to live, to be honest. I was born in a family of five which grew to seven by the time I reached adolescence. I enjoy company very very much and noise, too. I love laughters and expression of joys, which have the intricate ability to cure the emptiness in our hearts. 

There is this one problem I currently have. It is not that big of a deal, I think, yet it bothers me a lot. Quite an issue of self-esteem and confidence, it is. I am a stubborn person, always decisive of how I would want to live my life. I prefer to believe in my decision so that later, if the time ever comes to regret that decision I made, I'll have no one to blame but myself. But I will never regret that I made a choice out of my own free will. It might have been a wrong choice, but at least I did not give in to destiny. 

As the days passed, the fight between myself and the voices around my head occurred more regularly. I see no sign of me giving up yet the voices kept coming back. Those are the voices of my insecurities. A powerful source of influence in my head, I dare say. Why, after all these years, have they come back to make me doubt myself? To somehow make me question every step that I take? To make me feel as if I should be doing something else rather than what I am doing now, which I do enjoy so very much? Why do the insecurities make me envious of others who have somehow moved on with their lives, as if I have not moved on with mind? Is it because of the isolation I feel with my own state of life? But I have great friends. No, it is not. The answer is simple - my fucking disproportionately ugly pride.

How does it relate? 

My pride has triggered within me the need to feel like I am doing the right decisions in life. It made me obsessed with being the best, though the efforts I make in improving the person that I am are far too lacking. Nevertheless, my pride is part of who I am. Neither can I discard it that easily nor even think to live without it. But too much of pride can harm a person's humility. I must learn to be humble. I must learn to be grateful of the time I have. The invisible race that I supposed I am in - did I not refuse to join it? 

Most importantly, I need someone to support me. I do have great supports from my family and friends. I love them. They believe in me. They are happy if I am happy. Yet, the confidence that possess the ability to set me ablaze in achieving my dreams came, of course, from my father. Not that he wrote letters to me or something. But I like the idea that each time I doubt myself, I have someone to call, to seek advice and to tell me that what I am doing is the right or wrong thing. I need someone I look up to, who knew me well, to give me perspective in life. I imagine myself in a vast sea, captaining my own boat - with pride, nevertheless - but zero experience. I know not what to expect, I know only what I want. And what I want could be foolish most of the time. So, who would be there to prevent me from heading towards the foolishness should that happens?