The Meaning of Nostalgia

I think you see the world in a completely different light when you travel around, observe, adapt, and come back to the place you've lived in for 21 years of your life. And I don't mean bad-different. I mean appreciative-different.

How I love the traffic jams, the tinted white of peeling walls, the hint of little bustling activities everywhere, casual talk in a 'lah' and 'lor' slang I thought was grammatically right all my life, the slacked back attitude you can feel in the air when there's a public holiday..

How I miss events that reoccur in my mind when I see the little trinkets placed around my bedroom; memories gathered from young, kept to remind. How I miss seeing the little details in my mum's daily routine, like the sound of her feet shuffling down the stairs at a certain time in the morning, or the loud sound of pots, pans, and oil from her cooking.

Friends, family, and memories with them are very important elements that give rise to culture. And so I don't believe that going somewhere that is a 'model-country' or 'developed-country' should have a scorecard on it with all the right ticks. Being exposed is important, learning new things are important, but the values and environment you were brought up in is most important.

Culture and identity, is something so rich and we're thankful to have that. Now I've been avoiding bringing this up because I wanted to reflect on my own feelings of nostalgia. But being someone who's studied abroad in Melbourne, coming back to Malaysia has made me realise how diverse, cultural, and full of potential we are. I disagree when someone tells me that Melbourne multicultural too. We need to understand what is culture, and I think that it is something embedded in ourselves, giving rise to so many different events and habits in life. It is not merely a mix of different people from different countries living in the same place.

Home can never be different. The little things in the place that you belong to will always be your home, and your identity. I miss and love my Malaysia. I choose to see her for her good differences.

That Dirt Road

Its been awhile. Looking at my previous blog made me cringe at how 'immature'  I was. Hence the new blog. I've decided. This will be the place where only things that matter are filtered through. More life-changing thoughts, rather than statement of past events. Funny how it is only now that I fully realise why I started writing a blog in the first place; to be inquisitive, to express, to find out more about the meaning of my life (as chessy as that sounds). Here, I will write for myself.


One's journey in life is never ending, never smooth, never what you would wish it to be. I started pondering about this when I found this image today. Amongst all the other beautiful forest pictures of tall trees and filtered sun rays, I still liked this picture best. Because it told a story I could relate to now.

How I dreamed so high, wishing to strive for the passion I have for creating beautiful spaces in a crowd that thought alike. Only to find out that reality is a much harder kick in the face. The typical working environment is just a repetitive cycle of following orders, drawing lines exactly how people tell you to, and complying to difficult people. Where did all the excitement, encouragement, and creative juice that underlay the very foundation of this field go to?

I swore to myself that I will find someplace that appreciated all these little things. I believe there will be places like that, as sparse as they may be. And I'm confident that I will find this place, sooner or later.

Its a tough road, and the future I want right now seems so untangible. But I'm going to do my best, and this is a promise I need to keep to myself to be truly happy with what I'm doing.