By Zaiti Athirah
Edited by Harith Syafiee
“Negaraku, tanah tumpah darahku,” by thematic interpretation, is a gallant declaration of our collective resolve to reclaim the nation’s land consecrated by the blood of our ancestors. This line in itself captures the essence of our colonial history that ends with our nationalist victory on the 31st of August 1957. Saiful Bahri, as he penned the above lines, might’ve fought in the war himself, if not his family, who had had their blood anointing the Malaya’s earth in the battlefield – but that was way back. Because if we’re asking Malaysians today, the blood that begets their nationality were the scrapes in their knees as they learned to ride a bike or climb a tree, blisters from running barefoot on the grass fields, or even ant bites from picking langsat and rambutans.
Children of Malaysia might all have a heritage of tales and lores of their ascendants’ experience of living in wooden sheds, on diets of boiled tapioca and desiccated coconuts, and greeting the Limeys and the Japs – yet these reminiscents, I’ve noticed, have only made us perceive patriotism as a thing of the past, over six decades ago of age. I couldn’t help but wonder, what can we find today, conveniently contemporary yet genuinely Malaysian, that may still be preserving our patriotism?
You know, I drive past the three grand emblems of Kuala Lumpur on my daily commute to class from Damansara-Shah Alam through the elevated Duta-Ulu Kelang Expressway – seeing all three in a line: the KL Tower, the KLCC and the Merdeka 118 watching over the whole city, majestically scraping the nimbuses with their spires. I’ve been made jokes about being sappy as I love to remark that every glance I take at those metallic crests, they never fail to spark a brand new feeling – yet it’s unironically absolutely real to me.
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