Wednesday 3 February 2016

Unexpected Patriotism

I don’t know why I love my country. 

I just do. 

I would have never called myself particularly patriotic. I have never had a Malaysian flag in my house during Independence day, never attended an Independence day parade, and never would have described myself as particularly traditional.

As the years went by however, it was hard to explain the changes in my heart and myself.

Despite the endless idiocy in the government, the corruption and stupidity that seeps through the cracks of society, at times I feel like change is happening, that we are on the cusp of something. 

Sometimes I see the bright sparks in people that I know and I wish I could call out to them and tell them to stay, to stay with me and build a nation that we can be proud of – to be that change. 

Some will leave, no doubt. 

Every time a friend makes a reference to migration, I have this sadness in my heart, because it feels like they have given up and have chosen to abandon our nation. I have no right to ask them to stay, to ask them to seek opportunities within our own homeland when the potential to be elsewhere seems like so much more, but I am constantly surprised at how strongly the pang of disappointment hits when someone makes that statement. 

I know the journey seems like an uphill battle, but I do feel like the winds are changing. 

I think the grass is as green as you make it. 

This is my country. This is where I will live and die. 

My blood still sings for my homeland.

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