Many would say politic plays that of significant play of unrest within the confinement of this protracted preserved plural society but I take a different route on this.
Only if the politicians view from it my standpoint would they never want to fan the flame of anguish which eventually diminish respect and hurl us down to hatred.
I sense that tide of awkwardness whenever I am being asked of my racial background and some would flinch abruptly only to find I am malay.
A doctor in the house by the former premier Tun Mahathir elobarates distinctive details of the malay in whole. Racist as those of rival sides would pin on him to the extent of his former collegues but the truth is intact.
The pains he endured during the early days of life were much of help in rebranding the faith in me.
The book was not really of chorinicling his venture into politic but tended to be about the childhood life he had and then turned him to be what he is today.
I admire his boldness in being upfront about everything.Though he is now no longer at the helm, but continues overseeing all administration aspects of his country and obviously no one would appreciate it.
Don't judge a book by its cover, I hold firmly onto this as much the same goes to 'don't judge one neither by the words nor kindness'. For it is too soon to tell with hundreds more pages left unflipped. This will be enough for now.
This takes me back to those early days of my year in university, where I had a mixture classroom of all ethnics. From the beginning of the first term till the last day I would stick to this group of fives. The bonding that soon bound us, it seemingly stays all the way. We would go to library, study, eat and did those unthoughtful things the freshie would together.
Strong emotion comes over everytime this moment flashes back, atack of sadness in the chest will always keep it alive.
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