Goodbye for now, Malaysia.

I’ll see you in two years.

And maybe I won’t.

I’m going wherever the winds take me.

 

 

In.

 

By gosh, I really lucked out again this time.

Whatever it is that You think I have done

to deserve this second chance, thank You.

 

Selamat tinggal, Malaysia.

See you in a few years

 

2014 has been good to me so far. Thank You.

Picking myself up and preparing for liftoff.

 

I have no resolutions for this year, short of

improving myself as a person, daughter,

sister and friend. That should be enough.

 

Whatever else comes, comes.

What was it that Muns said once?

“Do what you love. The rest comes.”

 

I have been thinking more about how life

in general will take a turn if I halt it for a

couple of years in favour of going back to

school. Sometimes I end up frightened.

Other times, hopeful. But mostly, determined.

 

At times we feel stuck in certain aspects

of our lives. The trick is to finally push

ourselves to just do, and then watch the

rest fall into place. I seldom worry about

the what ifs - what if nothing falls into

place, or what if I still feel the same way?

 

It almost always does. If it seems like it

doesn’t, just trust in God’s plan. Cope

with the in-betweens because that’s all

we can really do. And make it count.

 

Whatever we do, do with all our hearts.

The ability to do that is rewarding enough.

 

I don’t ask for much during solat nowadays.

I just sincerely seek to be granted another

chance to be in love again. To be loved.

 

Things will be clearer come April, God willing.

And thereafter, godspeed.

 

http://youtu.be/CYQINvxaPqk

 

This has been on repeat all morning.

 

Sometimes when you’re plugged in on the same

thing for hours, you begin to notice certain things.

 

Like how this song is in triple time – there is this

funky offbeat you hear when you listen to the strings.

Like the song feels fast, but it isn’t, really. 6/8. 3/4.

 

And then the dynamics become clear.

The moving and shaking of a song, the very

things that bring you on that musical journey,

pushing and pulling in different directions.

 

It makes you wonder if this is what makes

a good recipe for an orchestral arrangement.

 

Today’s song, for example.

 

0:01 - Start slow and discreet. A chorus of voices.

 

0:51 - Enter the percussionists and big stringers

- celloes, double basses. Can you feel the heavy beat?

 

1:57 - The little voices now. Violins, violas, flautists,

clarinets. All the cute stringers and woodwinds.

The tempo picks up.

 

2:36 - Magic! The horn line, in all its glory.

They literally lift this song. They sound magnificent.

 

4:20 - A sudden break. It catches you off guard.

Makes you listen to the littles instrument in this

big-piece orchestra – the triangle. It’s well-deserved.

Everyone matters in a musical ensemble.

 

4:34 - And then, BOOM. The big brasses.

My trumpets, trombones, baritones and tubas.

Take it to the finish line, boys!

 

You feel a little breathless at the end.

Like you’ve just experienced an eargasm.

But you haven’t.

 

It’s just dynamics.

 

I spent a better part of tonight, post-studying,

deleting all my old emails with Mubeen.

 

All that were left unanswered.

 

A lot of heart and care went into writing

those virtual messages. And with them,

good intentions. Compassion. Love.

 

For a person to receive these and keep

their silence, it shows cowardice.

 

You never deserved me, Mubeen.

And somehow, the Universe knew.

 

Yesterday I finally realised what

it feels like to have loved and lost.

 

Being on autopilot this whole time

had not been healthy. Yesterday night

was something I needed. It was time.

 

The dull ache in my chest is still there.

I know that only goes away over time.

They say distance will really, truly help.

 

I suppose going away for two years is timely.

 

Let’s get you out of here, Neens.

 

http://youtu.be/lZqQRi-zQfI

 

There is a story behind this song.

 

In 2001, TKC commissioned the start of a wind orchestra to

replace our long-standing, nationals-winning marching band.

 

After having learned the devastating news of our marching

division’s ‘disbandment’, the school brought in a cocky,

eccentric orchestra conductor in March that year to

whip us into shape.

 

Enter Mr. Sani, into what would be a grueling

five months. We hated each other upon first sight.

 

Us; still stinging from the betrayal of having taken

away our love for marching band. What assholes,

forcing us to conform to orchestral music.

 

Him; at having been forced to take up this job.

To whip up a bunch of degil, busuk marching

bandgirls and turn us into refined musicians

in just five months.

 

It was an emotional journey, however short

those months were. We fought over everything -

his teaching style, the tone of our sound,

the costumes we had to wear, the songs he

wanted us to perform at the championships.

 

Like this one. The first time we listened to it,

we could only gape back at him in shock.

Was he nuts? We’d never be able to pull this off.

 

But all fights and emotional band-related tantrums aside,

we got down to work. This piece was short, but until today

it remains the hardest I have ever had the pleasure of playing.

 

Because, see, despite him being a mad, inconsiderate,

insufferable genius, he actually penned  a beautiful 

orchestral score for us to play.

 

And because we had such a huge desire to prove him

wrong in every respect (“Your sound is terrible! Berkarat!!

You’ll never win this way!!”), owning this song and

playing the shit out of it became everything to us that year.

 

Come July, we began videotaping our evening practices.

Rehearsing at night was my favourite thing in the world.

Our playground was TKC’s enormous dining hall.

While the rest of the girls were away at evening prep,

over on our side of campus, our music would be

the only thing one could hear for miles.

 

And what we began to realise when we rewatched our

videotaped sessions was how different we sounded.

We were better than ever before.

 

It’s funny, when I think about it now. How such

hatred between two sides can feed off each other

and instead produce something so beautiful.

 

To cut a long story short, we went to the finals

in August 2001, shocked the hell out of everyone,

and placed 2nd out of 20 orchestras.

 

For a ragtag bunch of marching bandgirls who,

just five months before, knew nothing about

and sounded nothing like an orchestra,

that is a testament to perseverence, my friends.

 

I realised that year, the strength 0f the human will.

 

The ability to do things can surpass our wildest

imaginations when we put our hearts into it.

We are all extremely talented creatures.

And I guess sometimes it takes an asshole of a

genius, like Mr. Sani, to channel these abilities

and package them into something kickass.

 

I literally stumbled onto this video quite by chance.

Throughout our days with Mr. Sani none of us

had bothered to copy Adiemus’ cd, upon which

he based his arrangement for Sol Fa.

I never heard from them again.

 

After twelve years though, it still gives me the

same chills I felt when I heard it for the first time.

 

What a magnificent work of art, Karl Jenkins.

 

It’s funny when I think about airports.

 

How one place, a meeting point for a million

souls coming; going; passing by; reuniting;

leaving; can still make a person feel  so alone.

 

I said this to Mum, once. She asked me

why I always thought about these things.

 

What else can you think about when

you’re constantly traveling by yourself?

 

 

There are days when I really miss you.

 

I remember things.

Our conversations;

your safe hugs;

how much love I felt for you.

 

And, ya Allah, it kills me everytime.

 

My beautiful sister welcomed her 40th year this

week as a Hajjah, in the most wondrous of cities.

 

When I was younger I always thought I wanted

to be like Kakna, at least as far as character goes.

 

13 years and a beaten cancer later, that desire has

not changed. If anything, it is stronger than ever.

 

Have you met my sister and her amazing spirit?

If you are lucky enough to know her, then you will

also know that this fighter only gets better with age.

 

To one of the strongest women in my life.

Te amo.