Remembrance of Things Past
Part One: The Arrival

When I first arrived here in the States, I did not know what I wanted from this place. I still remember myself, upon arrival in Newark and while waiting for the connecting flight to Minneapolis and in the shock of first experiencing a weather colder than Kuala Selangor's mid-December rainy season, tracing back my footsteps that lead to that foreign time and place. All along the journey from home and in the flight's much-crowded coach, all I did while not asleep was profound reminiscing. As far as I could remember, I never actually articulated or hinted to anyone, not even to myself, that I wanted to further my tertiary study at the States explicitly. I don't remember even thinking about going to the University. In fact, I think, the farthest that I had planned, with specific regards to my academic future, stopped short after finishing my much-labored SPM.

"Are you here for the education, or is this the reward for doing well in your exam?"

To be frank, even today, and today I am a senior in my college study, I still can't see myself in the near future living from day to day as a chemical engineer. This field of study that I major in never really was the ambition of my life in the beginning. Yes, my much-respected high school chemistry teacher and National Science Quiz coach was indeed a chemical engineering graduate from Indiana U, and yes, my father's much-beloved youngest sister did graduate from UKM with a degree in Chemical Engineering, but no, they were not the factors that played their part the day of my signing of the contract with Petronas. If my memory serves me right, I never actually did wrote down Chemical Engineering as my preferred field of study, and I remember being very sure of that when I indeed committed my signature onto the contract.

"Your results are exemplary and thus, we chose this demanding major for you".

In the spirit of remembrance of things past, and looking at photos from the heydays of yesteryears, the sight that once was awe-inspiring and remarkable but now reduced to neglected familiarity, all is captured as it is, moment by moment, expression by expression, and unlike the much-relied memory, portraying idealistically what you and I want those moments to be, a grainy picture says a thousand sincere words. At what was I looking from there? Whatever happened to that wool sweater? How cold was it that day in Newark? At the time the photo was snapped, had I eaten a wholesome meal yet? Had you prayed jama' qasar? What was I thinking about then? Did I remember to thank God for the safe journey, as repeatedly reminded by Dad? Was my mom still worried even after my safe arrival then? Do you still remember her tearful voice on the phone?

“Always remember that this is also what she wants of you.”

Of all the memorable moments in my head that I associate Mom with, the one that recurred most often, in times of good and bad, and struck me the hardest for its value in the true meaning of a proud mother, was the most beautiful smile that she had upon hearing of the news that I was to study engineering abroad under such a prestigious sponsorship as that of Petronas. Her face lit up like the glorious early morning sun after a dark rainy day. I remember the same beautiful smile and gloriously lit face of a mother the day she first stepped into the KLCC complex, accompanying her first son to the majestic Petronas office. How often did the same smile and face appear again and again each time she announces the news to relatives, neighbors and friends; I can’t single out a number. Sadly, never once did it occur to her that, in truth, all this was never what he planned.

"You looked like you were bothered by something - what was it?"

During that standpoint in Newark, it was very difficult for me to digest the already-made clear fact that I am here, arrived well and ready, on time and just as expected of me by my parents, sponsor and peers; although it was never my true aim to be here in the first place. The feeling at the time was of a concoction of great fear for the unknown, unexplained anxiety at the face of a new beginning, and distressing confusion on the understanding of the current state of things. Not long ago at KLIA, prior to the journey and in the warm presence of everyone, this issue of purpose never occurred to hit me during the decision-making process. In the comfortable embrace of your family, you are assured again and again that everything which has been laid out in plan is alright and will be alright. However, only when you have essentially arrived at the stepping stone of your future, all alone and unbound, that this great entropy of conflict kicks in.

“If everything is in its right place, then why are you here?”

Now, looking at the old photo of the oblivious young man looking at the newly found horizon called America; I could not help but wonder what if. What if I had found the courage to say no and turn back? What if I had found the strength to pursue my lifelong dream regardless of the oppositions by my loved ones? What if I had known earlier how my future would eventually turn out, despite of the change in decision? What if I had been less demanding of the path that I chose my life to be in, and just go along with the flow of the crowd without much say, and thus in great effect, save myself from this dreadful slow torture of the soul? What if this present destined path is the path? What if I were destined wrong anyways?

“Is life really a destined journey, or does God play dice?”