It’s been a long while since my last entry. A few things happened along the way, none which I care to elaborate on. Suffice to say the mood to write was not a frequent occasion these last few weeks. Anyway, today I wish to share my most recent theatre experience, the Putra musical.
The last time I was IB, it was to watch the now legendary PGL, that big budget, big everything production. This time around, it was a show which was obviously a subsided affair because tickets at IB are rarely ever priced at a flat rate of RM10.
As far as Merdeka goes, and if you were to ask ask what it means to me, I can only say this – now, after nearly 40 years of living, I can finally say it has deep significance. Sad isn’t it..taht it took me so long. Frankly, all those years growing up it never really meant much more than a public holiday where I sleep in, and later watch our Assuntarian school band on tv. Then as I had kids, it was something I still prefer to watch on tv until some years ago when hubby dearest decided it could be fun to go watch the fireworks and later the merdeka parade. Recently since the parade moved to a much expansive area like Putrajaya and having one of my best friends as part of a contingent, we braved rain or shine and joined in the crowd. And that I must say was the first time it hit me, this thing is BIG. And for the first time ever, I had goosebumps as I sang the national anthem with thousands of other Malaysians.
Then several nights ago, I went to watch the Putra musical. And apparently so did hundreds of young Malaysians. And that was definitely a scene that warms the heart. Although I have heard many of the tales that were weaved into the play that night but somehow, this time the patriotic bug hit me – hard. Seeing dad constantly wipe his tears as he was seated in front of me, I began to wonder if maybe, just maybe, those tears were not just the tears of a man who was sentimental and easily moved, but rather of a man who knew the pain, and recognized the pride.
I too was choked up with emotion, and so was hubby dearest. The scenes, they touched me somehow and the passion that was reverberating throughout then entire Panggung Sari was powerful beyond belief. I truly walked out of there with a whole new perspective, and a renewed sense of admiration, respect and gratitude like never before.
It was not difficult to see why my husband wanted to spend another evening to watch the play with our boys. And so we went again a couple nights ago and had a blast. This time it was the final show and the national sprit was alive and well. The crowd was wonderful and appreciative. And the mood was like no other. The mood was built up throughout the night, the emcee played his part tremendously well and the appreciative crowd sang every single patriotic song with all their hearts.
I suppose we have come a long way, and if Malaysia were a woman, she’d probably one who has seen much laughter and tears, pride and heartache. She must be proud of her children but at the same time worried about their future and at times uncertain of their sense of independence. Her smile may hide many years of hurt and disappointments and her mind may wonder where she had gone wrong with some of her younger ones.
Nonetheless, she must be one tough cookie..and raring to shoulder on, come what may.
Selamat Hari Merdeka…
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