My grandpa....

               I never knew him in person. Still from time to time, I try to get to know him through his writing. There's not much I can gather since he"s gone as early as my mother was only six years old. So I get to know bits and pieces from his siblings. His education background, his job and some trivial stuff. However, there's always a wall built about who he really was as a person.

                As I get to read more about his writing that mostly revolve around a teacher's life, unity between races, being both liberal and pious at the same time, the pride of using the national language, being the Islamic preacher to the aborigine community, spent time partying at the club, the experience of being a Malay communist. I began to have a suspicion about what kind of a guy he is.
Receiving the best of both world (western education at school) and (islam education at home), he grew up leading a life without clear focus on which path is more pertinent. he had the brain yet he was adventurous for his own good.

                Ever since he was a child, he was always a traveler.Collecting stories and experience with him as he go places. His heart changed and swayed as time goes.

                Just like every youngsters in that era, he could not help but be politically incline. In one of his book, he showed his inclination towards the Japanese, on another towards the communist. His view though somehow seems erratic, after reading between the lines, I could finally see..He just one to break free from his own community.

              He keep on pointing again and again about the problem inside the Malay community. The underlying message about racism, injustice, corruption, lack of initiative and envy. This has made me realize, the disease is not new. it exist long time ago and exist till now.

               He is the same as me, I don't like my community as much as they don't like me. I am the black sheep. It's not because I'm special and above everyone else. But I was born to rebel and to question.

               I was brought up liberal. People try to impose value in me. But then, when I start to question, their answer is never satisfying. Then they start to recite the ayah to me " And We have put a barrier before them, and a barrier behind them, and We have covered them up, so that they cannot see. It is the same to them whether you warn them or you warn them not, they will not believe."
 (Ya sin 9-10) to prove a point that I'm the imbecile and the non-believer which is to me is quite frustrating. If one cannot question, how could their mind be rest easy. Does by threatening me of the hell fire would help me erase all my doubt.

               If God really wants us to be docile and obedient, why create us as human? with brain and emotion.

                I guess that's exactly what my grandpa felt at his time. Being who he is, erratic and undecided. Bound by cultures and norms that he involuntarily has to be a part in it. the dilemma of choosing the right path without the luxury of trial and error. His isolated island is through his books.

                This made me thinking. Should I start my own pieces too. Not for everyone to read, but frankly just to get my temporary peace of mind before I find the answer for what I'm really looking for.