The Portrait of A Young Malaysian

          The face looked strangely familiar. Its wide set eyes, bushy brows, broad nose and smiling lips were altogether a pleasant surprise to be found here. I felt a strong pull of affinity towards those nostalgic-inducing features, and my gaze fell comfortably on them like feet in well-worn slippers. A typical Malaysian face, I could have easily singled it out from a massive crowd of people from different ethnicity.
          The very first thing that I noticed was her beautiful dark brown eyes. Physically they were none too attractive, even a little cross-eyed, but poetically they mirrored the very compassionate soul that all Malaysians are in possession of. Wide and innocent at times, kind and gentle at others, they could be steeled to reflect pure determination when it is called for. These eyes witnessed life as it is, with a splash of colour of course. Mundane school life was racial harmony and despondent adolescence problems were positively perceived as healthy challenges to be overcome by the ‘Malaysian Boleh’ spirit. Multiracial celebrations were a resplendent burst of colours, literally and culturally. However, these were also the eyes that shed tears looking at immoral acts, discrimination and suffering; an outlet for frustration when the body is incapable to stop whatever seen as a wrongdoing from the perspective of the young mind.
         Correspondingly, the face also owned a set of well-formed lips. They were certainly ordinary enough: average in many ways, neither lusciously thick nor cruelly thin. Raised slightly at each corner, they lit up the face with quintessential Malaysian friendliness. Smiling, grinning, and beaming its way through life, they played a prominent role in showing joy and gratitude – which they do often enough. Profound happiness was duly discovered in the simple joys of life, which can be summed up in three words: family, friends, and home. Weekends with family, weekdays with friends in school and nights at home were routine schedule but deeply enjoyed. However, those lips were not all sugar and spice plus everything nice, they could certainly fling cries of outrage with a justifiable degree of animosity; especially in protests, carried out peacefully to bring the voice of the caring Malaysian society to the ears of the world.
          I also found her round nose to be affably cute. Very much unlike the much sought after aquiline noses of cover girls, it had a certain unique charm of its own. Its circular shape complemented her full face nicely and proportionately, giving her the sweet, innocent look of a ‘kampung’ girl. Looking at it, I could very well imagine the share of experience it had in life, in terms of smell that is. Malaysia, famous for its incredibly delicious food, made each mealtime an experience to be cherished and each act of eating a performance by itself. Whether it be scrumptious ‘nasi lemak’ in the school canteen or delectable home cooked meals at home, it gave her sense of smell something to remember with. The bittersweet miasma of the country’s evergreen environment was also something to reminisce about, looking at the fact that we have an abundance of nature in its purest form. The musky odours of orang utans in visited reserves and the acrid smell of Rafflesia, are just examples of the many odours that are, Malaysian.
          Having done with her features, I moved on to adding life to the portrait by painting skin tones. This drove me to scrutiny her healthy skin. Rosy and glowing with youthfulness, they were well kept but not to the point of great vanity. I could easily tell that they were weathered and tanned and that was probably caused by the large amount of time spent under the sun. As with all Malaysian youths, sports is a pastime favoured and pursued fiercely. May it be badminton in the local playground or football, barefooted in an abandon field, it provided both exercise as well as thorough fun. Fundamentally, it wasn’t about winning but instead it was really about aspirations of representing Malaysia in the world arena. Silly as it may sound, since many of them are just whimsical hopes accelerated by adolescent hubris, it was the passionate pride of being a Malaysian and the want of making her proud, that counts.
          Later, I found out that the keeping the painting was the best decision for it gave me the satisfaction of explaining repeatedly why I entitled the picture ‘A Portrait of A Young Malaysian’. For you see, the young girl whose portrait I painted was a fair-haired, petite Irish teenager who had lived in Malaysia since she was borned. Physically it was impossible to tell that she was actually a Malaysian but we Malaysians know one another perfectly. Being Malaysian born does not make us Malaysians, our lifestyles and thinking do.