Wake Me Up When December Ends


The 18th of December, 2005. That will be the day, pending completion of paperwork; I’ll leave home for what will be my longest stint away from home in my life.

I have mixed feelings about it.

I’ve expected it for years now, since I signed up for my Advanced Diploma course, I knew that I’ll be in Melbourne one day. But it’s not since now that I’ve paid the deposit, enrolled and bought a plane ticket, that it all suddenly seems so real.

I once saw it like any other excursion overseas, like my 6 months in NZ. Then life happened. College, friends, love lost and love found… My current abundance of free time, which has allowed me to ponder my place in the grand scheme of things.

I love this cozy corner of the world. I feel safe here, not only in the sense of physical security, but knowing this land with intimacy, all it’s places and wonderful people, friends, family, all that is familiar… all the wonderful memories… It imparts a strong sense of belonging.

I would be happy to leave for a while, go complete my BA, meet old friends and find new ones; to fill my life with more memories and experiences… If I could know for sure that one day I would return to a life here… But I can’t. The future is so uncertain.

As it is, those who can in my extended family have left or are leaving to seek greener pastures. I know first hand that the grass isn’t greener on the other side. Here is my home, here is my heart. But sadly, my place here is slowly corroding. Bit by bit, the dream I grew up with is rusting away. I used to be so certain that it’s within redemption, that things will turn around. But as the dream fades, so does my hope for it. There is only so much whitewash can do when the inside is falling apart.

No point keeping it in, no point being politically correct. I hate the fact that here, in my own country, I cannot be simply Malaysian. That in my own home, I am a 2nd class citizen; that because of my great-great-grandfathers origins, I am discriminated against. That here in the land I love, I can’t unconditionally love whoever my heart desires. I grew up with a sense of love for this place, enough love that should push come to shove, I would be willing to lay my life to defend her. But I’m not sure anymore.

Treason is the most heinous of crime; it is a transgression with the most dire of implications. What is treason? It is the betrayal by a citizen upon his country. So then what is it when the roles reverse and the traitor is ones own country? I feel betrayed.

But as much as I feel wronged, my hope for this place is not yet dead. My only wish is that when it comes time to decide between home and being an immigrant, the 18th of December won’t be a date I will remember with despair, but with hope.