Beth Yap's In 1969, directed by Sek Thim, Sunway College/August 2006
I go by many names: Myra, Azrina, Adik, Puteri, Oi, Babe, Bebop, My My, Myreezy, Myrot, Maherah, Nina and even Azrin (by Cikgu Fauzi - my Physics & Add Maths tutor).
What if we just changed our names whenever we felt like it?
I told Fahmi few months ago that I were to become a dancer, I'd change my name to August Mahyuddin, just to compete with January Low. Haha.
Just the other day, I had a conversation about names with the guy from JayJays.
Him:
[looks at my debit card] Where are you from?
Me:
Malaysia.
Him:
I thought so. Which one is your name?
Me:
That one [pointing to 'MS A P' on the card]. That's my dad's name [MOHAMED MAHYUDDIN]. I've been reduced to 'MS A P B' here.
Him:
So you could actually make your name up.
Me:
Yeah, like my name is Miss Apple.
Him:
Haha, yeah. Something exotic.
Me:
Yeah, like, Miss Apple Pineapple.
Him:
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. I like that one. Use that one!
****
Dug up an old email to find an interracial love story set in Malaysia in 1969. It's painfully beautiful.
Here's an excerpt:
And now rain. Washing the mud from my mother's face so it became streaked and could be seen. My mother burrowed into the ditch. She clung like a slug to its side. Now things began to wash down, sharp stones to scratch her and sticks to break her bones. The water licked at her feet, then covered them, scrubbing vigorously, washing them clean. Two pale feet in a churning ditch, two fine feet with soles soft and pink. Feet used to the finest arched shoes. My mother lay like a corpse in the ditch, only her fingers gripping. Only there, in the crook of her leg, behind the knee: that would give her away. That purple vein, beating and beating, pulling the eye towards it and beating through the current of water like some angry beast. This vein and the one behind her other knee, and the ones on the seat of her bum, and lower. The ones she rubbed and smoothed with balms on a quiet night. These, beating and beating till the sound filled her. These were the ones that would give her away.
Beth Yap, In 1969
Listening to: -
What if we just changed our names whenever we felt like it?
I told Fahmi few months ago that I were to become a dancer, I'd change my name to August Mahyuddin, just to compete with January Low. Haha.
Just the other day, I had a conversation about names with the guy from JayJays.
Him:
[looks at my debit card] Where are you from?
Me:
Malaysia.
Him:
I thought so. Which one is your name?
Me:
That one [pointing to 'MS A P' on the card]. That's my dad's name [MOHAMED MAHYUDDIN]. I've been reduced to 'MS A P B' here.
Him:
So you could actually make your name up.
Me:
Yeah, like my name is Miss Apple.
Him:
Haha, yeah. Something exotic.
Me:
Yeah, like, Miss Apple Pineapple.
Him:
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. I like that one. Use that one!
****
Dug up an old email to find an interracial love story set in Malaysia in 1969. It's painfully beautiful.
Here's an excerpt:
And now rain. Washing the mud from my mother's face so it became streaked and could be seen. My mother burrowed into the ditch. She clung like a slug to its side. Now things began to wash down, sharp stones to scratch her and sticks to break her bones. The water licked at her feet, then covered them, scrubbing vigorously, washing them clean. Two pale feet in a churning ditch, two fine feet with soles soft and pink. Feet used to the finest arched shoes. My mother lay like a corpse in the ditch, only her fingers gripping. Only there, in the crook of her leg, behind the knee: that would give her away. That purple vein, beating and beating, pulling the eye towards it and beating through the current of water like some angry beast. This vein and the one behind her other knee, and the ones on the seat of her bum, and lower. The ones she rubbed and smoothed with balms on a quiet night. These, beating and beating till the sound filled her. These were the ones that would give her away.
Beth Yap, In 1969
Listening to: -
2 comments:
you forgot "myra-tor" :)
myra-tor!!! hahaha. yes, that too. haih...
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