Tuesday, June 05, 2007

Malaysia - still taking baby steps at 50

We are inching closer to a half-century of independence from colonial rule, and if Malaysia is a lady, at 50 years old, we would expect her to have matured gracefully by now.

But of course, just like some people who enjoy mocking womenfolk, Malaysia too suffers from all forms of mockery due to its inability to attain a certain level of social and political "maturity" expected of her.

At 50 years old, she continues to be "protected" and "sheltered" from all forms of threats, both real and perceived, because her children could not be trusted to settle differences amongst themselves in a peaceful and amicable manner.

And because the children could not be trusted, they have learned to distrust each other. Deeply.

50 years is a long time to stay childish. We need to take the painful steps of growing up and growing strong in maturity. We must believe that we can trust each other to safeguard our individual rights to live and co-exist with each other peacefully in the same house.

There can be no real peace and unity if each person is in it only for himself.


The Cold Within

Six humans trapped by happenstance
in black and bitter cold.
Each one possessed a stick of wood,
or so the story's told.

Their dying fire in need of logs,
The first woman held hers back.
For of the faces around the fire,
She noticed one was black.

The next man looking 'cross the way
Saw one not of his church,
And couldn't bring himself to give
The fire his stick of birch.

The third man sat in tattered clothes;
He gave his coat a hitch.
Why should his log be put to use
To warm the idle rich?

The rich man just sat back and thought
Of the wealth he had in store,
And how to keep what he had earned
From the lazy, shiftless poor.

The black man's face bespoke revenge
As the fire passed from his sight,
For all he saw in his stick of wood
Was a chance to spite the white.

And the last man of this forlorn group
Did naught except for gain.
Giving only to those who gave
Was how he played the game.

The logs held tight in death's stilled hands
Was proof of human sin -
They didn't die from the cold without,
They died from the cold within.

- Anonymous

Labels: ,


Blogger zewt said...

perhaps... at 50... the lady continue to favour only those who has taken things for granted. but i pity the lady, she cant do anything. like the chinese saying goes... 'the palm is flesh, the back of the hand is also flesh'.

5/6/07 21:50  
Blogger desiderata said...


the poem is sad but the reality is true
whether it's among balck, white or brown.
man imposes his own burden black and blue
until ms patient Death replaces that frown

6/6/07 13:37  
Blogger Anak Merdeka said...

Zewt: Did you leave the office "on-time" today? heheh! ;-D

Desi: Glad you liked this poem too. I chanced upon it recently and thought I'd like to share it with you all here.

6/6/07 18:34  
Blogger zewt said...

i have never been able to leave on time... unfortunately. and i have been eating instant noodles as though it's my staple food... sigh...

12/6/07 21:53  
Blogger Anak Merdeka said...

You poor thang, Zewt!! I hope you don't need to share Jule's veil on your wedding day to hide that bald patch, hahaha!!!

13/6/07 16:32  

Post a Comment

<< Home

adopt your own virtual pet!