Sydney

“You get a strange feeling when you're about to leave a place, I told him, like you'll not only miss the people you love but you'll miss the person you are now at this time and this place, because you'll never be this way ever again.”

― Azar Nafisi, Reading Lolita in Tehran

Wanting to make a difference

I would really appreciate the chance to make a difference. But good intentions are not enough. On one hand the government has few vacancies relevant to me, a long wait before I get a job (if I even get it, that is) and a lot of protocol and hierarchy and a culture that doesn't heed the opinions of someone of a lower position/age. On the other hand are issues I feel so strongly about and that dull ache in my heart pushing me to do something about it. Just something. ANYTHING.

"I should like to be able to love my country and still love justice." -Albert Camus

Ruby slippers

Settle abroad. 

The work culture is much better.

You will have better opportunities there.

You really should get a PR while you can.

Malaysia will never change. Go overseas.

Why are you coming back?

You will regret it later.

Your kids will be better off.

Give me one good reason how Malaysia is the better choice.

Why should I have to defend my desire to stay in the country where I was born and brought up? Why do I have to come up with a rational reason for loving my country? Why are people (random strangers included) so bent on convincing me that there is no hope in Malaysia? 

You can write me a 10 page essay on the benefits of moving to Sydney, and I may take your word for it and uproot my  life and move abroad. But one lazy Sunday morning, I will wake up and crave nasi lemak from a road side stall in Sitiawan, and I will regret it. And I'm not willing to take that chance for now. 

There's no place like home. 

I am a feminist.

Sexual harassment bothers me. Even in the mildest forms, it bothers me deeply. You know why? Because I can't do anything about it. Trust me I've tried. I have been trying for years. But there is really very little you can do about it. 

My pondering, reading and conversations about this issue only magnified the problem. I was now facing a bigger monster: Sexism. And guess what? I can't do anything about it. 

And so, I have decided to channel my years of frustration and dreams of change into a title. I am now a feminist. Always have been actually, but now I will begin calling myself a feminist. 

I have always had strong opinions about feminism, but never before have I been so scared. Scared for my safety and future. Scared for the kind of world I will be raising children in. Scared that I will grow old with the words "If only.." gnawing away at the back of my mind. 

So a few days ago, I put my thoughts into action, and my feminism ball has started rolling. And I hope that I will make a difference. I hope you will too. 

Karna

Her eyes. Draupadi's eyes haunt me. I should have stepped in. I should have said something. I could have saved her from her humiliation in the court today. I don't understand how the elders of the court  stood silent and upheld their textbook dharma when a woman's honour was at stake. Even her husbands did nothing to protect her! 

They say Draupadi was granted five husbands because in her past life she asked Lord Shiva for five qualities in her husband, and no one man possessed all five. I wonder what useless qualities she asked for. As apparently none of them were of any use to her today!

Read the rest of the post in its new home here: https://vijeya.wordpress.com/2014/05/29/karna/

Duryodhana

"Duryodhana, you are yet young and foolish. How could you stand aside and watch Draupadi be humiliated in front of the whole court? She is after all, your sister in law. Any disgrace that befalls her befalls the Kuru dynasty!"

"That arrogant woman deserved everything she got! She is no sister in law of mine, Godfather Bheeshma! Her husbands, all five of them, are illegitimate children of Kunti and the Gods. There is no Kuru Dynasty blood in their veins. Don't you ever address her as my sister in law ever again!"

"And yourself? The pure Kuru lineage was wiped out years ago, Duryodhana."

A husband like Bheema

She has a beautiful smile. When I first saw her I thought to myself,  "Oh, I would do anything to keep her smiling." But she wasn't smiling at me then. She was smiling at Arjuna. Besides, her swayamvaram had been structured such that only the greatest archer can win her hand. And I knew that it wasn't me.

When Arjuna lifted the bow, I secretly wished he would not hit the target. I prayed to the Gods to spare me the agony of having to live with her as my Sister-in-law. But Destiny had a different plan. 

She

I heard a silvery laugh. That's the only way I could have described it. Silvery. That faint laughter filled the recesses of my mind with glistening dew drops and the colour of the moon and the refreshing smell of rain, all in one short moment.

I looked up from my textbook. There was a girl sitting cross-legged on the floor, straight across the room from where i was seated. She wasn't laughing then, but the slight traces of a smile had yet to leave the corners of her lips. And I knew it was her. Or, at least, I hoped it was.

She was engrossed in a book, and I, in her.

Her warm brown hair, her sweet silver laugh. I followed her fingers as they traced the spine of her book. I watched her slender wrists as they flipped the page. And I searched my memory for a word to describe her eyes. I studied her toes as they curled. I imagined the emotions she felt as she read and I saw them reflected in her face.

I settled on the perfect way to say hello as I walked over, but alas. She left.

She closed her book, picked up her bag and left me staring into the space she previously occupied. And she left her silvery laughter ringing in my mind.