Don't gasp in horror.
Don't look so sad.
Don't sigh.
Don't feel bad for them.
Don't stare forlornly through the webcam,
Type mails with too many TT_TT's,
Or transmit suppressed sobs over the phone line.
Don't ask them whether they cry into their pillows
In the loneliness of the night.
Don't ask them whether they miss you.
Don't ask them whether they feel bad
For missing future gatherings
And all the potential fun you'll have without them.
Don't ask them how they cope with homesickness.
Don't ask them how much things cost,
University fees,
Living expenses,
Or telephone bills for the first month.
Don't ask them to come back.
Don't ask them when they're coming back.
Don't ask them whether they're coming back.
Don't ask them if they think there's no place like home.
Don't ask them if they realise that
The grass isn't greener on the other side after all.
Don't ask them whether they regret their decision.
Ask them how they are doing.
Ask them if they picked up a slang.
Ask them their initial difficulty in understanding the foreign accent.
Ask them about the gradual change in the colour of the leaves,
From green to yellow to a crimson red.
Ask them what course they are reading.
Ask them to spread the fish, the mangan,
The Malaysianised wait-ah,
And the tradition of singing birthday songs.
Ask them for a description of their current Math teacher, if any.
Ask them what time in the evening do streets become desolate,
When we have only known a world where the night is forever still young.
Ask them to upload on Facebook
Photos of their new home,
Photos of shop names without the need for a "Kedai Butik" at the top left corner,
Photos of their first attempt at what was meant to be scrambled eggs.
Ask them to buy frozen instant roti canai from the cold storage.
Ask them whether they're used to reading in the papers
About Parliament sessions without politicians cursing one another,
About judges and lawyers taking separate trips to New Zealand,
About traffic police who have yet to learn the meaning of "duit kopi".
Ask them their pleasant surprise
When for once,
A car slows down to a halt before them at a zebra crossing.
Laugh with them.
Cry with them.
Drop messages.
Prove to them that distance is not a barrier,
And neither is the passage of time.
Tell them that they make you proud.
Tell them that you're happy for them.
Tell them that
The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.
Support them in spirit,
Remember them in good faith,
And wish them all the best from the bottom of your heart.
[Note: Inspired by A Teacher's Poem by Lisa Lauritzen.
Dedicated to those who have left us in pursuit of their aspirations.
May joy and success follow your footsteps wherever you may go.]
Saturday, February 28, 2009
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