thelostabroader

[thelostabroader]

[thelostabroader]

March on.

Four years in this city I call my second home and I thought I had it all figured out.

Everything laid out so smoothly, it almost felt like a dream. I was somewhat close to the peak. Undoubtedly worked my a** to get to where I was and hell was I proud to reap the fruit of my labor. BUT, life-as-you-know-it, happens.

 I’m in my final year, and I’m somehow paying the consequences of a tiny mistake made by some other individual, that ended up costing me. Not anyone else, but me. I wish I knew who he/she was.. I could go up to him today and say ‘Sir/ Bhaiya/ Dada/ Didi, please rectify this, this is wrong, this is not justice, I worked as hard as any other student to get to this point, I deserve this, help me.” Oh, how much easier life would have been. How much easier would it have been to get out of bed every morning since.

 ‘Why me? Out of all the one hundred, why me?’

 Initially, I fought hard, I really did, seeing that it was difficult to accept. Hell, it was no where close to acceptable. So I kept fighting for the justice I deserved. For all the tireless nights without sleep, being far away from the comfort and luxuries of my own home, the time invested, the tears, the anxiety, even the dark circles!

I fought more and more. One minute I was patted on the shoulder convinced it could be fixed, and the next, I was standing head down facing the wrath for the mere reason of fighting for justice I deserved. But, the system and people ruling high up in it were such, that nothing could be done. Even after running back and forth, one office to another, one department to another, one superior to another, nothing could be done. Same question, why me?

 It was indeed a long, long trying period for me. Definitely tops my very own list of ‘Series of Unfortunate Events’. Unquestionably. But through it all, I saw love. Love in many many different ways.

  The ones who clapped and cheered me on, the ones who went all out to fight on my behalf, the ones who wrote me the most heart filled notes, the personal messages. All of which kept me going. You know who you all are, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

 ‘God gives his hardest battles to his strongest soldiers’. Maybe it was meant to make life slightly difficult, just so I can stand up taller? Maybe it was meant to be a  reminder of how other people have it worse in life? Maybe it was meant to be the start of a billion more unfortunate events to which I’ll laugh off? Who knows!

 To you reading this, whoever you are, wherever you are, whatever you’re battling, it may seem like its never going to end, but it will, it always does. Stand tall and carry on, soldier!

[thelostabroader]

Thinking out loud

That’s the thing about a ‘phase’ isn’t it. It’s either bound to be extremely bad, or extremely good, there’s no in between. The good ones we cherish, the bad ones we curse. The good ones we forget in time, the bad ones we remember for a lifetime. But the bad ones are what shapes us to face all our hindrances, or rather to face life itself.

I’ve recently been so in awe of a dear friend of mine. In a time span of just seven days, she was hit by so many mishaps, back to back. No time to catch a breather even. Imagine waking up four mornings in a row just to know that you’re going to have to bawl your eyes out back to sleep later. It was truly a difficult few weeks for her. But she had no complains to the Almighty. She fought a little if not a lot everyday. She cried herself out and then picked herself up the very next minute..

She still sang and swirled to Christmas hymns impatiently waiting for the 25th. She still cracked everyone up with all her delightful puns. Most importantly, she had no idea what tomorrow was going to bring, but she still pulled herself out of bed every morning, exactly at 6 am, give or take a few minutes, with a small hope that is; there will be a light at the end of this tunnel.

She has been such an inspiration, and people as such, who personify a great deal of perseverance.. They are the ones who teach us that there is perfection amidst all the imperfections life has to offer. They are the ones who teach us that you’ll have 99 problems but life isn’t going to be one. They are the ones who teach us that there’s always going to be a rainbow after that dark, terrifying storm, and that all you have to say is,  ‘Not Today’.

 To her, I say thank you. To those who have pulled through all the dark times, I say thank you.

 p/s : You know who you are, cos ‘yoda’ one who’s a man-on-the-go, pun intended!

[thelostabroader]

Who wrote the book of goodbyes?

      Home. Home. Home. All I can think about when I’m away from home, IS home. Living someplace foreign, takes a toll on you in time. Its true when they tell you, “stay strong”, but whoever said it was going to be a walk in the park, to stay strong?  When you’re put in some place where the air doesn’t smell the same, where the season is so unsettled- sometimes I’m all wrapped up in my thickest wool, and then there are times when I’m craving for a long endless dip in an icy cold pool, and where the food looks somewhat similar.. but tastes nothing alike, where the walking and talking people are in all possibilities not Jupiter sent.. but why do they still seem so alien-like to me. Only thing that gets you going is, reminiscence.

        The familiar smell of the air, as soon as the plane touches down.. Proof enough that home hasn’t been out of reach all this while. The well-trodden roads, the skyscrapers, the same walking and talking people who speak as I do. The street food, that agrees to my insides. There’s the warm afternoons and then the rainy evenings. The brightly lit scenes when night falls, ever so jam-packed with the chuckling and cackling of youngsters on their late night excursions. And NOTHING tops the pleasure of just hanging around in the mamak stalls for one two many good cups of teh tarik in the evenings, whilst being surrounded by the chatters of friends and families… which momentarily makes it seem like everything else in the world is just as good as the mamak mee goreng you’re devouring.

          The contentment of just slouching in my crib day to night being a couch potato, with complete liberty and shamelessness, knowing my sister is just two rooms away from me, and not oceans apart. Never has it occurred to me how gratifying that would ever feel. To have proper two hour-like heartfelt conversations with my mother, without having to wait out any unstable Whatsapp or Skype call connection. In all honesty though, what I miss most is the love-hate relationship with my old man. How he furrows his brows in a futile reprimand of me for not reading up the Star times, and then in a matter of seconds, offers to take me for the best Chinese in town. And to have friends whom wholeheartedly would take painstaking measures to safeguard the biggest smile on my face whenever I am home.

           I am leaving home tomorrow and am still so very much in disbelief how time flies. One whole month in the blink of an eye. To say I am profoundly sad, would be an understatement.  Not that I have an alternative set of options to restrain myself from feeling homesick, but all I can do is to take the bull by the horns, and suck it up. Whoever wrote the book of goodbyes, must definitely live by the phrase- one memory a day, to keep the worries at bay.. Till next time Malaysia!

  �t�!�7�

[thelostabroader]

[thelostabroader]

[thelostabroader]

Perfection, amidst all the imperfections :)

[thelostabroader]

What is p-a-i-n?

“Will I be able to do it? Can I do this? I can’t even sit upright. My head is spinning.” I sit and say to myself, as I feel my body temperature vigorously rising, my joints weakening, and my inner strength and hope, slowly deteriorating. Thing is, I was down with fever, a bad one; that felt more like a parasite which was mercilessly sucking the life out of me each second. It was due to some food poisoning that I was suffering from. Oh well, perks of binging on street food in the midst of exam week. And to make things worse, I had to sit for my last paper the morning right after. Not just any paper, but the paper that was going to decide my fate at the “Tooth-Fairy Institute”. In twisted words, my final paper for Bachelors in Dental Surgery. I was at my weakest. I thought to myself at that moment, there’s nothing worst that could happen to you. You’re going to flunk tomorrow’s paper, if you even are lucky enough to sit through it without having to sprint to the washroom, every 2 minutes. My condition was going from bad to worse. I was losing all hope. “Giving up, I’m giving up.” I said. “I’m quitting. That’s it. To hell with tomorrow’s paper.” But those two words..those words. Simple yet terrifying. “Give up.”

Was this what I came here to do? Give up? Was this why I flew miles away from home, from my family? To give up? Is this all I can take? Was I dying? No. What about that old lady earlier on the streets selling goods, who had on her body barely even a full tied saree to cover herself up, more like bits and pieces of it, with little mouths to feed back home. Did she give up? No, she did not. What about that trishaw uncle yesterday, who had only one arm, yet still was transporting passengers back and forth, under the scorching sun. Did he give up? No, he did not. What about that little girl you stumbled upon last week, barely even around 9, who had lost both her legs and still attends school, on a wheelchair, with the biggest smile on her face, striving to gain knowledge, without a single complain as to why she lacks physically compared to her brothers and sisters. Did she give up? No, she did not.

What about the homeless people, literally living on the footpath, right below your luxurious apartment. When I sleep so peacefully in my bed at night, all tucked in, after a good meal, enjoying the cold heavy rains and thunderstorm..What happens to them? Where do they go searching for shelter? How do they survive it all without a roof on their heads? All they have is each other, and yet, do they give up? No, they don’t. I woke up, saying a prayer, thanking the Lord for everything that I have; for the meals that I indulge in everyday,for the roof I have over my head,for the bed that I so soundly sleep on, for a mother that was willing to stay up with me all night because she was worried sick for her overgrown child that was down with just a fever. Wow. I have so much, and yet I was about to give up? I sat in front of my fat, thick Anatomy pages. Read for hours. Pushed myself, fought against every sensation of pain that I felt. With an immensely satisfied heart, I went back to bed. Satisfied partly because I was able to prepare myself for my last and final paper, but mostly because I felt blessed to have realized how appreciative I was to how much I already have in life. How I’ve started looking at the bigger picture. How one small painful experience, can be an eye-opener to the vast things in life. This pain is going to be temporary, but the pain of one million other people might never be gone.