Wednesday, January 17, 2007


These days, I wish I was six again...

In a matter of days, I will turn into an adult.

That’s the idea, anyway. In less than two days, I will no longer have the number ‘1’ as the first digit of my age; no longer able to hide behind the overworked suffix of ’teen’.

It’s quite scary, the prospect of losing all valid excuse is.

The way my mother expects it, having a new digit at the front of my age will force me to mature -- to grow up into an working, functioning adult. How I wish to have the gall to say, “If only things worked that way, Ma”.

You see, I have always had this aversion against growing up. Now, let me get this straight -- I have no problems with becoming a year older; I just have issues with maturity. I prefer regression to cynism; naivete to jadedness.

I think Dawud Wharnsby hit it right on the dot:

I don’t wanna be a grown-up
Like the grown-ups I have seen
‘Cause the grown-ups I have seen
Don’t seem to have much fun.
They don’t get down on the floor enough
To pray, or play with toys
So when I’m a grown-up
I won’t wanna be one.

For as long as I remember, I have always been against growing up. In fact, when most of my peers had already hit the watermark of puberty, I was more than glad to be left behind. I was perfectly happy to be left to my hopscotch and Barney videos (nicely borrowed from my toddler cousin) while the rest of my friends were busy comparing ‘first period’ experiences and boy-hunting.

I suppose you could say that I was late. And happily so.

But now, with my mother heavily hinting about the cumbersome day, I’m becoming rather wary. She’s desperately waiting for me to grow up; become mature. In short, to become less of a worry to her and my father. And to the rest of my aunts and uncles.

And every time I hear about it, I get a twinge in the pit of my stomach. I know how much my family wishes I could learn to be an adult. I just wished I knew how.

Last night, I had a hurried chat with my best friend. She’s happy with where she is in life right now, and I’m glad. My life for the years since we left school has been somewhat lacking her perspective on things. So it wasn’t so surprising that when I asked her opinion of my blog, she gave it to me straight: She told me that I was a little biased, and a little idealistic.

I felt tempted to reply, “When have I ever not been?”

My trip back to Malaysia, which has changed so much and yet remains so familiar, has made me think a lot about how life has changed for me, throughout the years. Ever since I could remember, the mostly part of me grew up here. I guess the change of mailing address has given me a new perspective on things. Little bits and pieces of my past seem to be catching up with me.

Just when so many of my friends are struggling to step away from their past, I’m trying hard to recollect mine.

When I was in kindergarten, I was happy. I was talkative, sure, but I cannot remember a time when I never was. Life was easy, and I suppose that deep down inside, I knew it. Maybe I had an inkling that life then was as leisurely as it was going to get. I remember gymnastic lessons for the annual concert, music classes, and sort-of cheating during after-school Mandarin, and having banana cake for recess. I used to hate banana cake.

When I was in primary school, I felt my first taste of labelling -- I was the smart kid; the bookworm; the chatterbox nerd. I think I was even called weird. I didn’t really have much common sense (some things never change), and it was beginning to worry my mother, in particular. I didn’t know how to keep the friends I had. I guess I just valued my privacy too much. Maybe I was just lazy.

Wow. That was painful to remember.

When I browse through my Friends List on Friendster, little flashes of memories pop into my head. I see the classmate I used to hate (he is a guy, which was reason enough, back in the day); I see my first crush; I see winces from social faux pas; I see the first person I was rumoured to be dating (ever just rumours). But only barely.

I see the people I grew up with, for the better part of my life. And yet now, I can’t really see them clearly in my mind anymore, because to me, they no longer represent my world, or even a semblance of the reality I‘ve come to know since leaving the bubble that was secondary school. I used to think life was what we played at between classes, but it turns out I was wrong.

When I stepped into pre-U, I learnt that there was so much more to life than dating, and looking good, and staying in cliques. I immersed myself in the new environment -- the new, always nice people and I relished that we all came from such different backgrounds. I was happy that being a smarty-pants was a common thing we shared, and most of all, that being one had brought me into AUSMAT 16 of INTEC. I learnt so much, and I enjoyed life so much.

I guess that was where I learnt to celebrate life, and the person I am.

And just when I thought I couldn’t change anymore, I did, again. This time, it was nearing the end of AUSMAT, just before the exams. I suddenly found myself with a whole new set of principles embedded within me, all without my asking. I found a deeper connection with life, deeper than I ever expected. I also found new meaning in living. The intensity and almost suddenness of that particular change -- of me, becoming more of the religious sort I usually evaded all this while -- almost made me forget how transitional and parallel it was. In fact, it was that very change of outlook that made me decide on Melbourne.

Melbourne taught me to be ready to change my mind at anytime. The city and its people taught me to never judge a book by its cover -- a lesson I’m afraid I’m beginning to forget. Melbourne taught me that each person is like an onion -- deeper than the grubby exterior, with many layers to peel, each a different shade. The Aussies taught me not to judge, and the land taught me to be quick on my feet and to trust myself. And my fellow Malaysians taught me everything else.

There, I learned to earn real friendship. I learned about dealing with mistakes. I gained the confidence that was missing from me all those years past. I found myself with so much independence that now that I’m home, I feel stifled and limited. I’m counting down the precious days until I’m forced to leave my family, but at the same time, glimpses of Melbourne appear in my mind, beckoning me to go back.

I used to be so afraid of trying new things. Now I’m just wary, is all.

I used to view change like I did make-up: Nasty and avoidable. I’ve changed my mind some since then.

Now, I’ve realized that if I had looked back more often, the same way I’m doing now, I doubt I would’ve gotten this far. I would’ve been too afraid to do anything other than what I was used to -- I wouldn’t want to improve.

So having a poor memory can come in handy too, in turns out.

Seriously though, I’ve learnt that the only way to live is to live in the present. I know, it is an overworked cliché from Christmas-themed TV movies, but it’s true. If you look behind, you’ll lose courage to take that first step forward or away. If you look too far ahead, you’ll lose your footing and crash on your face.

The only way to push ahead is to be thankful for everything you have right now, and know that God has bigger plans for you, made of stuff you won’t even be able to imagine.

So enjoy the moment. And make way for the next one.

Praise be to Allah for my life thus far. I’ll take it all with no regrets, insyaAllah, for as Imam as-Syahid Hassan al-Banna said,

“Nothing is better than what has become.”

Wassalamu’alaikum.

P.S:- Should you happen to read this, this goes out to Najmina (4th of Jan), Sufia (10th, I think), Rizal and Intan Fairouza and Azza and Chie Chie (15th), Lyana (16th), Erin and Duck and Abang Pea (18th). If you happen to be born in the month, do let me know. Happy Birthday, all. Many happy returns.

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this has been a rant by Syazwina Saw at 4:06 pm

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