It’s been about a month since I started my internship back in Malaysia. The public transport back here is really something and by something, I really do mean not much. So, my dad drives me to work each day because the house only has one car and I haven’t learn how to drive yet. Every morning, I will wake up close to 6, get dressed, then go to have breakfast with my dad. At one of those mornings, my dad said, “You know this is much better than last time. Last time, it was straight from home to school. Now, we get to have breakfast too and we can chat,”. It made me remember all the mornings of the 12 years where my parents fetched me to school and as I grew older, I realized I have completely forgotten how significant this was.

I guess this takes me back to the last day where my parents made it a routine to fetch me to school. It was also the last day of my secondary education. I remembered the day like it was yesterday because it was both joyful, and heartbreaking. Finally, the grand projects of 12 years was coming to an end. As I got up that morning, I put on my shirt and tie properly knowing what day it is. There weren’t much students coming that day because only a handful of us was sitting for the exam which was Bible Knowledge. I was looking forward to that night the most as it was my first time watching a movie with friends. In fact, the movie was Tron: Legacy. It was probably one of the few movies I actually manage to catch with my high school friends. Just like that, the day went by. The exams were over! School was done! I also knew that I will hardly see my friends again, the ones I so cherish in my heart everyday and were the ones that made me consider my school a home.

I ran through that day again and again in my mind and I clearly remembered everything except for one thing, the drive. As much as my friends are a big part of my life, my parents have always been my rock although I hardly talk to them as I went through puberty. They were part of my every morning as I slept in the car on my way to school. Imagine that. I slept.

As each day passes, I have come to realised how much I have forgotten about my life, how much I miss my grandparents and how much love my parents gives to me on a constant basis. I think about how much fun it was when all my cousins and relatives were together with my grandparents. We don’t have that any more. I think back of how much stupidity and havoc I and my friends caused in school. We don’t have that any more. As each day passes, I’m afraid. I’m afraid that I will forget these things. I’m afraid that I will forget, who I was.

I want to remember every single thing in my life. I want to remember all these friendships I have made over the years and not let go of them. I want to go through all those mornings again where I can just sit in the car with my parents. I want to come home to my grandma’s cooking again. I want to do all these things again.

As I lay my head on my bed at night, I asked myself, “What if I forget these things one day?”

I guess I will. Eventually, I will probably forget all these memories but our memories are tied in with our emotion. Every single scenario is tied in with happiness, sadness and anger. The rest of emotions are just a combination of all of them. Just as combination of different chords make up different melodies, combinations of different emotions make up different memories. I remember what I do because they make me feel a certain way.

Understandably, it will be too much of us to remember every thing but we are not suppose to work that way. We work through pit stops. Every day in our lives is a pit stop. We stay at one but never for too long cause there’s so many things to do and see in this world. There are so many other people to help. If we put our hearts into one pit stop alone, can we ever truly live our lives? I’ve come to accept that we, as hard as it is have to move on and not be held back by these memories, as wonderful as they are.

I struggle with the battle to remember everything but I also know, in every situation, it was love that transcends the emotion. I know that one day I will forget these things. In fact, I probably forgotten a lot by now and can’t recall them but the emotions and experiences felt become innate. They are now a part of us. I don’t have to recall them to be who I am. I am who I am because those emotions are within my heart.

In a song, we just need to hear a few chords and bits of verses to remember the whole thing. Our memories work the same way. I know day I will forget but I know there will come a time I hear the same few chords and I will remember the whole song again.

On my last day of school, I told my dad, “Dad, I don’t want to go to Australia. I want to stay here and be with my friends and you all.”. He replied, “We all would like that, don’t we? But life is composed of a variety of colours. You want to look back and say, I have lived all these colours. And what a great life it was.”

I was actually writing a completely different post to this. It was titled the ‘Southbound Train’, a working title. In fact, I wrote two drafts of it and was probably going to write a third one, but only to stop myself. I strongly felt there’s a story in what I experienced but somehow or rather, it didn’t feel right. It felt forceful and a rehash of what I have written before. So, I decided to leave it and who knows, I might have something to write about it the next day.

Anyway, if you don’t already know, I have been practising the guitar. I know! It’s pretty exciting news to myself, maybe not to you, but to me, it’s really something. When I told my friend I was learning it, he asked, “So what are you naming her?”, to which I responded I don’t want to name her as I didn’t feel like playing <insert female name>. It just sounded wrong. We came up with names anyway and he said a guitar has to have a name kind of like how swords have names. Of course, my lightbulb was suddenly switched on. From now on, I shall call my guitar Brisingr! No, it doesn’t work? How about Riptide? If you know these references, you’re awesome. I decided to look up what guitar is in Japanese. My friend said it was probably guitaru. It was actually something that sounded way cooler than that. Are you ready? It’s… gita. I laughed to myself. Anyway, I didn’t end up naming her. Maybe in the future.

So, when I was younger, my mother asked (more like forced) me to take piano lessons. I hated it. Honestly, there’s no other word for it. I simply hated the theory and practising it everyday. My teacher tried hard to encourage me but to no avail and my mum kept persuading until eventually, I told her I wanted to quit. She finally gave in and I didn’t play the piano since. I remembered my mum telling me that I would regret not being able to play it. I don’t know if it’s regret but I certainly don’t mind the skill to play the piano as it is a whole other way to express my emotions and feelings. Thinking back now, quitting the piano actually had a bigger impact on my life than I thought but there’s a story for another day.

So, I didn’t have the skills to serenade girls with romantic songs and I certainly couldn’t contribute more in church choirs or praise and worship sessions. All I had going for is my parched throat chirping out random bird noises that somewhat sounded singing and like a melody but not really. I felt something was missing but I was glad I could help in any way I could but I always think back of the what if scenario. What if I knew the piano? What if I knew the guitar? When I listen to songs, I embarrassingly imagine playing the air guitar and thought how cool would it be to finally even play a simple tune.

It never materialized as year after year, I will always tell myself that I have something to do and that I have no time to pick it up. It wasn’t until last month I took up my sister’s guitar and a ‘Guitar for Dummies’ book that was left to me by my dear friend, sat on the couch and started learning some chords. My sister saw how serious I was and she and my mum decided to buy me a guitar for me to practise while I’m back in Malaysia. An hour ago was probably one of the most accomplished moments I have felt in my life. I have been able to strum a few things but never quite a full song. I remembered the song, “The Heart of Worship” by Matt Redman and I decided to look up the chords and just play it. It turns out the chords were pretty simple and I could managed it but that’s not the end of it. For once in my life, after 13 years, I was able to express to God not only one of my favourite songs of all time, but I was able to play a full song to play for Him to hear. I cried from it cause time and time in my head, I have always wanted to do this but never bothered to do it and finally, I was able to play not parts, but one whole song for the one I love the most in the world.

Do I regret I didn’t continue with the piano? I honestly wished I didn’t quit but there’s nothing I could do about that now. My life would have been very different and I wouldn’t be who I am today. I think there’s a fine line between quitting something because you are not ready and giving up because it’s too hard. I do think it more of the latter than former that I didn’t continue but I figured it’s both. As I grew older, I learned that it’s okay to hold back something until you are ready and certainly don’t give up when there’s tribulations.  Just as I didn’t continue with ‘Soutbound Train’ post, it wasn’t because I gave up on it, but rather it didn’t felt complete enough.

I will always remember what my mum said to me till the day I leave this earth, “When you want to do something, do it whole heartedly or else, don’t do it at all”. That’s today for now. Have a nice day wherever you are. 🙂

Do you remember the scene of the Guardians of the Galaxy during the opening credits? If you haven’t watched it, that’s fine. I’m going to break it down to you. I will state right now it’s one of the best openings I have watched in movies. So, Star Lord/ Peter Jason Quill (played by the ever wonderful Chris Pratt) puts on his Walkman (little known fact: I too use a walkman except it’s a discman rather) and fits his ears with this giant headphones. While “Come and Get Your Love” by Redbone played behind, he grabs a rat and uses it as a microphone. Then, he swing and kicked like he owned the world. You know, like how you sing in the shower. Admit it. You have done it. If you haven’t, you haven’t lived. It was simply beautiful. The song was the first of many 70s songs to be featured in the movie. The playlist of the songs was called the Awesome Mix Vol. 1 which skyrocketted to the top of the iTunes charts. So imagine this, a playlist of the songs which were made more than 30 decades ago became popular, again.

I find it strange and at the same time understand why it became popular again. Anything to break the saturation of negative imagery of songs nowadays feels like a breath fresh air. By fresh air, not fresh minty air breathed out by a person but air from the Niagara Falls fresh. The reason I thought of this was when I was listening to Lite.fm, a local radio station (think Smooth.fm) had a tagline which said, “playing the classic hits from the 70s, 80s, 90s and the best of today”. We are 5 years into the decade of 20s and the best of today somehow encapsulated 15 years which seems as though the 21st century didn’t have a distinct identity of their own to be called 10s.

There’s also the common sayings, “They don’t make them like they use to any more” or screams of “WHAT HAPPENED TO OUR GENERATION OF MUSIC? THEY SUCK. PEOPLE USE TO HAVE MICHAEL JACKSON AND BEATLES BUT WE HAVE PIT BLOODY BULL COW AND NICKI FREAKING ANACONDA MINAJ”. Of course, they are usually more explicit than that. There’s also the opposing shouts of “YOU SHUT UP. DON’T TALK BAD ABOUT OUR MUSIC. LET NICKI MINAJ DO WHAT SHE WANTS AND KANYE WEST IS A GENIUS”. Well, yup. Who is right? What is genius? What is our generation’s music?

I wanted to put a few classics from every decade into this column but the task feels rather impossible because there were so many. However, I will single out a few artists and band. Michael Jackson, Billy Joel, Abba, Starships, Eric Clapton, Bee Gees, Earth, Wind & Fire, Cyndi Lauper, Whitney Houston, Aretha Franklin, Journey and Queen are some to name. They mostly populated the 70s to 90s area. The 1990s saw the birth of more boy/girl bands like Spice Girls, Westlife, Backstreet Boys, Boyz 2 Men and also teen idols like Christina Aguilera and Britney Spears. The Goo Goo Dolls and Oasis made their stamp here too. I’m not going to bother with 2000s because most of my music comes from that decade. There’s just too many to name.

I think that’s the problem with all these remarks and comments on Youtube, Twitter, Facebook and whathaveyous regarding the great music divide between the past and present. If music from the post 2000s were terrible, then I shouldn’t have trouble naming classics, should I? Of course, the Beatles, the Rolling Stones and Michael Jackson are a tough act to follow but music is not just about their genre or style. Music appears in everything and breathes through whatever we do. It is an expression of our emotion, thoughts and a capture of that moment in time.

The songs from the 70s, 80s and 90s are called classics because it was simply difficult to get a recording contract and get your name out to hear. The songs were on vinyl and then later on to tapes. They were heard mostly through radio. The distribution and promotion to put it in short, was limited. I have no doubts there were so many aspiring artists in those three to four decades that weren’t heard because no one noticed them. Then, came the rising star of the Internet which created a whole plethora of options to promote an artist and digital media sales were now possible. Boyce Avenue inspired a whole generation of Youtube musicians. Now, we have the ever so wonderful Spotify and other streaming applications like Soundcloud, Pandora and iRadio.

So, I really do not stand by the argument that music got worse. There’s still the damn trash of anaconda. The styles in music certainly has evolved but I think that’s wonderful to see we are ever so capable of mixing so many styles to create a new genre. I like to think that throughout time, music had always two sides to it. The inspiration, funk, love, emotion and groove is one side. The other is the sex, drugs and party. It is sad sometimes to see charts filled with music of the latter because is that all we are about now? At the same time, we can’t use charts and billboards as a measure of the quality of our music because there’s just so many of songs out there now and all anyone has to go on is the radio and what latest thing big recording companies money vampire blood sucking corporations try to push out to the public through Vevo. We are so busy with work and studies that we just take in what we see because it just takes too much effort to find your own gems among everything else. Interestingly, the charts have been filled with better music in the past months. That’s my opinion anyway. The reason why our generation of music doesn’t seem to have an identity is because music evolved so rapidly across the span of a few years that it’s hard to pin it down to just a decade.

I think just don’t take what recording companies try to throw at you willingly. Surely, you have been to a night market or something similar. People are shouting at you to buy their products (slippers that glow in the dark or alarm clocks that wake you up with voice of Benedict Cumberbatch) and you just buy it because it’s visually appealing and it’s the first thing you see. Take some time out and try to look for the music you really relate to and need. Sometimes, maybe reminisce over the past decades as well cause they’re so fun like what Star Lord listens to and I assure you it will be worth your while.

Meanwhile I should get back to Footloose by Kenny Loggins and hold a rat as my microphone.

Alright, I’m actually writing this without a title yet. Before you read any further, this is actually not a post like all the other posts. By other posts, this isn’t one of those emotional/inspirational I try to be but failed miserably sometimes posts.

So, I got onto Facebook and I saw a friend request much to my surprise. I haven’t gotten one of those in a while. I saw who it was and struggled at first to recall the name cause the picture looked hugely different. After a while, I soon remembered that I met her before in tuition eight years ago. For those of you that do not know, tuition is where we take extra lessons or classes out of school because the teachers in school sometimes suck. I remembered her because she sat next to a girl that I was sure I knew because I could have almost guaranteed she was the girl that texted me a year before that she liked me although I haven’t seen her before and scared the crap out of me and also I couldn’t find any girl with a similar name from a similar school but she denies that she’s the girl when I asked her in my texts. So back to the one who added me, I don’t remember her cause she was so very noisy and had a geeky look. Guys, I’m sorry! I took in mostly only physical cues eight years ago. Shut up. So, when I saw that she added me, my response was hey, it’s a flash from the past and also, oh my, how the years have gone by and puberty have changed her. By change, I mean supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. Ha. Anyway, her friend request also unlocked memories that I forgotten I have about my life as teenager in those years.

I was a dork. I still am a dork but I was more of a dork back then. Clearly, I was an admirer of the Dorkian folk and I embraced it like a child. So, I’m going to go through the years where I did tuition for the Malay language. So, I started off by going with two friends who are more like acquaintances but I got along well with them. So, it wasn’t too bad. I fooled around so much that I barely learned anything out of the it. The following year, now, I went with a childhood friend and sat in the front row. Front row! I don’t even know why I was so keen but I clearly had a thing for it. This was also when I met that chic who wasn’t a chic back then but very much so now. This was also when the teachers start picking on me, i.e. asking to answer questions and read things out loud because people who sit in front usually don’t get asked those things right. Right?

The next three years comes the phase of the quiet bean. I went to all of those classes like Aragorn/ Strider from Lord of the Rings whereby I was a lone ranger and please don’t disturb me cause I had a sword in my sheath where I will not hesitate to take it out and point at your throat when being asked questions. I know. I never took it out but I was still a quiet bean though cause I didn’t have any friends that I knew. See, I thought I wasn’t quiet when I was in high school but I clearly was now that I look back at it. So that third year, I sat next to a girl (whom I actually I can write a whole chapter of my life on) whom I barely talked to then. Even then, I looked forward to seeing her. Oh please. I’m not a stalker. It was a quiet crush. Stop being judgemental.

The fourth year, this was where I actually started being serious in class cause I wanted to do well for my high school certificate exam. So, I barely talked to people around them although I roughly know them. This time, I was in the third row of the class but I’m not entirely sure if the chic was in the class but the other two girls were. Again, I was in Aragorn mode and was such a keen bean. Alas, teachers again like to pick on me. This time, I was asked to do some reading of the literatures we were studying at the time. It was about ten pages. Alright, it’s not too bad, he’s probably going to ask me for the last time. It turned out that something about me (I would like to think it was the mature/ bloody good looking appeal of Aragorn) made him kept asking me every single week. A year later, I have now sat in the last row of the class. Funny how times have changed me. Nothing else did. Anyway, I found an answer as to why he picked me. One day, after I read finish, he said, “Your voice changed today. Did something happen?”. He said my voice was used to be a sad voice and he liked hearing it. WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?

Anyway, this was a random post. I really don’t have anything else to add except that I see myself becoming a vastly different person through that span of five years where I went from almost exploding talkative to a quiet mouse. Of course, being abroad has changed me a lot in that aspect too. I am probably still a relatively quiet person now but in a different way. I speak out when I have to and don’t when I don’t need to. To be honest, I didn’t mind getting picked by the teachers to do things. It probably helped my self-esteem a lot that I didn’t even realise it. Sometimes, you may want to just not do anything and be bothered with people at all but somehow some guy or girl manages to annoy you enough to make you care. It’s alright sometimes to get out of your shell. Don’t act like you’re the only person in this world. Try being the person to speak first. You never know whose life you might change.

Now, I should probably go back to accept that friend request.