A Golden Opportunity: My Journey from Malaysia to the World

I often sit alone, gazing at a moon that's the same as the one back home, yet feels so different. It’s been a long time since I left my beloved homeland, leaving behind the warmth of my family, the laughter of my friends, and all the sweet memories I hold dear. A wave of melancholy washes over me with every pang of homesickness. Yes, I am an expatriate, a Malaysian navigating the vast ocean of life.

Some ask, "Why?" Why give up everything you have? Why choose this difficult path? My answer is always the same: "Opportunity comes only once." These words, spoken by a beloved headmaster, echo in my mind and have become my life's compass, guiding every step I take. I am not here just to earn a living; I am here to find the true meaning of life, to test my own strength and prove that I can stand on my own two feet.

Many might look at my life from a distance and think, "He must have it so easy there." And to a certain extent, they’re right—my life is more comfortable in some ways. But they don't see the true cost of this comfort. The sacrifices I've made are profound. I've given up precious time with my family, said goodbye to a love, and put on hold the milestones that most people my age are already celebrating. Living abroad teaches you the real meaning of sacrifice. It has forced me to be more mature, stronger, and braver than I ever thought I could be.

But for every hardship, there's a silver lining. Amidst the deep ache of homesickness, I’ve discovered an unexpected beauty. I have the chance to travel, to see the world from a different perspective, and most importantly, to meet incredible people from all walks of life. The friendships I've made, the laughter we've shared, and the cultures I've embraced have brought so much joy. I've learned to appreciate their sports and found happiness in our differences.

Let them say what they will. I know that as long as I am on the right path, as long as I hold firm to my principles and my faith, everything will be fine. With the blessings of my parents and the guidance of Allah, I believe every step I take is the right one. To all young Malaysians out there, don't be afraid to step out of your comfort zone. Life is an adventure. Always be principled and firm in your beliefs. Even when we are far from home, never forget who we are. I hope my journey can serve as an example for all of you.

Solo Road Trip: A Crazy Adventure Through the Rocky Mountains

This trip, you all. Seriously, fuiyoh, it was one for the books! I went on a solo road trip to the Rocky Mountains, and let me tell you, it was an adventure so epic, you won't believe it. My short summer break turned into a crazy, impromptu journey, and I just had to share it with you guys.

I flew into Las Vegas, just for a night. That place was so hot, my face felt like it was melting. The next morning, it was a scorching 40 degrees Celsius, but my spirit was high. I was on a mission: four days, four states, and five national parks. A bit ambitious, I know, but you gotta challenge yourself, right?

First stop, Zion National Park. The scenery was seriously power! I hiked a trail and the view of the valley from up there? Ya Allah, so beautiful. After that, I drove to Panguitch, Utah, and then straight to Bryce Canyon National Park. It’s like the Grand Canyon, but different. All these strange rock formations called hoodoos looked like a whole city of stone. After a bit of hiking, I went to the motel for a good night's sleep.

The next day, I headed to Capitol Reef National Park. I wanted to take the scenic route to Cathedral Valley, but sadly, the road was closed for construction. A bit disappointed, but I stumbled upon Fruita, a ghost town with so much history. The Mormons used to live there, you know. I even found some ancient petroglyphs and hiked to see the Hickman Bridge. But guess what? The weather was so dry and hot, my nose started bleeding! Luckily, I'm a quick learner, so I just chilled and survived. Solo trip, you see, so I had to rely on myself.

After that, I dashed to Moab, Utah, and checked into a campsite. That night, the wind was crazy—like a hurricane! I couldn't sleep well, but the bright side? I got to see the most beautiful night sky ever. Back home, where can you get a view so clear? I saw all the stars and planets with my own eyes. So surreal, man.

I woke up before Subuh and drove to Canyonlands National Park to catch the sunrise at Mesa Arch. The view, oh my, priceless! Then I went to Arches National Park to see the famous Delicate Arch. It sounds tiring, but I didn't feel it at all. The sheer beauty of it all made me forget about any fatigue.

Finally, I hit the road again, all the way to Denver. I met my old friend from Myanmar, whom I met during my college and we both were volunteer leaders before. It was so good to see him. I even went to a Colorado Rockies baseball game, which was another first for me. After a night there, I flew back home.

In short, this trip was amazing. To see Allah's creation—the mountains, the canyons, the endless skies—it was so humbling. And to challenge myself to drive all that way, all by myself? It was a crazy idea, but I loved every minute of it. This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience for me. Even though it sounds exhausting, I felt so energized throughout the trip. Only when I got home did I feel a bit tired. But hey, it was all worth it. I'm already thinking about my next road trip in the US. The adventure must go on!

Not Jodoh: A Story of Love, Loss, and Healing at My Own Pace

Last week, I had a strange and haunting dream about the girl I loved. In the dream, I found myself wandering in a park in her homeland, the air full of children’s laughter. That was when I saw her—she was there with her kids. Somehow, I ended up helping them fix their little toy train, my hands clumsy but eager. She smiled at me, the same smile that once melted all my worries away. Then, I overheard a voice—maybe it was just in my head—saying, “Why isn’t that guy their dad? He looks like he belongs with this family, so loving and gentle.” Another voice answered, quieter but firmer, “They never ended up together because of different cultures.” The heaviness in my chest grew, and before I could say anything, I just dashed away from the scene, fading into the background as if I was never there.

Ever since that dream, I’ve been thinking a lot about my love life—about the chapters that have passed, the wounds that still ache, and the lessons I carry quietly in my heart.

Young Hearts Be Free

They say your first love will always hold a special place in your heart. For me, back in my college days, I truly believed this. Almost three years with my first love—we weren’t just students, you know. We were dreamers, leaders in societies, volunteering here and there. It was sweet, pure, and at that time, I thought it would last forever.

But as with many young loves, life took us on different paths. That chapter ended—at least, I thought it did.

The Summer That Changed My Heart

The summer after the heartbreak changed everything. Joined an exchange program overseas, just to see the world, to distract myself. That’s where I met her. At first, she was just another face—full of dreams, entrepreneurial spirit, always smiling. But slowly, the bond grew. I found myself telling her things I wouldn’t tell anyone else. When I went home, I told my late mum about her, showed her pictures. My mum’s face lit up. She liked her, gave her blessing—even hoped maybe one day she’d be her daughter-in-law. That approval meant the world to me.

Unfortunately, fate had its own plans. We lived in different countries. Our conversations became less frequent—letters, long messages, updates about daily life. She was busy with her startup and studies; I tried my best to wait.

When the World Stopped

Then the world changed. Pandemic hit, borders closed. Suddenly, the future became uncertain. I could no longer visit; she could no longer travel. Life kept us busy—she with veterinary school, me with the daily grind in KL. I wanted to meet by year end, but it was impossible.

Time moved on. We both chased dreams, lost in ambition, but in my heart, I kept hoping she’d still be waiting.

Before I moved overseas for a new job, I gathered my courage and confessed: I’m ready, I want to marry you. Her answer was hesitant—a mix of hope and anxiety, uncertainty about what lay ahead. My heart broke quietly, but I left anyway, carrying her memory across oceans.

The Call That Broke Me

Not long after, my world shattered. My mum was diagnosed with terminal cancer. I had no money to fly back, no way to see her. We talked over the phone until her voice grew weak… and then she was gone. My anchor, my strength—just like that.

After her passing, the silence was deafening. That grief kept me company for many nights.

The world felt cold, and I was completely alone.

One Last Shot

Eventually, I found a way home. Told my dad I needed closure, wanted to see her one last time. He understood, gave his blessing. When I finally saw her, after four years, she looked different—quieter, changed by life. We talked about everything: my mum, our journeys. She never knew about my mum’s passing—it broke her heart too.

But when I finally asked about her feelings, she told me gently—she had moved on. The pandemic, the distance, the culture—it was not jodoh, not written in our fate. I accepted it, though the pain lingered like rain on a window.

Living With the Silence

Coming home was heavier than I expected. I lost my mum, lost the woman I dreamed of having a family together and chase our dreams. My dad tried to be strong, but I knew he was heartbroken as well.

Since then, I’ve tried to move on. Sometimes I meet new people, but my heart doesn’t “click.” Maybe I’m still comparing everyone to her, or maybe I’m just scared of getting hurt again. Maybe I need more time.

Some will say, after a love that deep, it’s normal to take years to heal. Maybe solitude is just my way for now—taking time to find myself, to protect whatever little peace I’ve managed to hold onto.

Finding Myself, One Step at a Time

These days, I travel more—new places, new faces, chasing sunrises that don’t remind me of the past. I lose myself in new cities and unfamiliar streets, hoping to collect the parts of myself that got scattered along the way.

I don’t know when I’ll be ready again. Maybe one day, maybe never. But this I know—love isn’t always about a happy ending. Sometimes, it’s about beautiful chapters, memories that will always stay with you, teaching you to grow, to let go, and to hope again.

If it’s not jodoh, then it’s not jodoh. Until then, I’ll keep walking this path, going places, writing new stories, one step—and one heartbeat—at a time.

Midnight Adventures in New York: Hostel Life & Impromptu Times Square Trip

Hello everyone! Today I nak share sikit about my recent trip to New York City, and wah, this one memang different from my previous visits. I arrived late midnight, thanks to a flight delay caused by severe weather—memang penat, but overall, okay lah. This time, instead of my usual spot at travelers hostel, I tried Hostel International New York at Amsterdam Ave. Let me tell you, this place memang best gila!

The hostel itself very clean and comfortable, with amenities that really make you feel at home. Best part, they encourage us to socialize, so you don’t feel lonely even if you travel solo. After I checked in, unpacked my barang, took a shower, and performed my Isya’ prayers, I tried to relax and read a bit before Subuh. Since it’s summer, Subuh masuk very early, so I planned to sleep right after.

But, I respect other people in the dorm—tak nak kacau mereka tidur—so I went down to the common area. Wah, the place was super clean and quiet, perfect for some me-time. While waiting for Subuh, I met another traveler who also baru sampai and couldn’t sleep. We started chatting, ice breaking lah konon. Then, another girl joined us, and suddenly she suggested, “Hey, let’s go to Times Square now!” I was like, “Serious ah?” I was still in my baju tidur, but why not, kan? YOLO!

So, after Subuh, three of us, complete strangers, took the subway and headed to Times Square. It was my first time experiencing New York like this—sunyi sikit, not so ramai people, but still got that lively city vibe. True lah, New York memang city that never sleeps. We lepak, grabbed some coffee, and just enjoyed the moment before heading back to the hostel. Memang crazy, but that’s the fun of traveling—unexpected adventures with new friends.

If you ever come to New York, I really recommend staying at Hostel International New York. Who knows, maybe you’ll also end up having a spontaneous adventure at 5 AM in Times Square! Till next time, happy travels, guys!

The Colour of My Love: A Tribute to My Late Mom

There is a song that always brings tears to my eyes—The Colour of My Love by Céline Dion. The lyrics, so gentle and poetic, remind me of the woman who painted my world with warmth, laughter, and endless love—my beloved late mom.

Growing up, my mom was the artist of my life. She coloured my days with joy, painted my nights with comfort, and always made sure there was a sun shining in my sky, even on the darkest days. When I listen to this song, I feel every brushstroke of her love—how she made my world vibrant, alive, and meaningful.

“I’ll paint a sun to warm your heart, Swearing that we’ll never part…”

These words echo the way she loved me—unconditionally, endlessly, without expecting anything in return. She was the one who would listen to all my stories, no matter how small or silly. Her laughter was the music of my childhood, and her advice is still the compass of my life.

Now that she’s gone, I find myself missing her more with each passing day. Even though I travel a lot now—something I’ve grown to love—I always wish she was there, waiting to hear my stories, eager to know about my adventures. No matter where I go, or how far I wander, there is always an empty space in my heart that only she could fill.

Sometimes, I sit quietly and let the memories wash over me. I remember her gentle touch, her wise words, and the way she would smile at me with so much pride. The world feels a little less colourful without her, but I know the shades she painted in my life will never fade.

As a child of her, I hold dearly to my faith. With every memory, I whisper a prayer: Ya Allah, grant my mother Jannah and rest her soul among the righteous. I pray that she is surrounded by light and love, just as she surrounded me when she was here.

To anyone who has lost a mother, I hope you find comfort in the colours she left behind. Our moms are the artists of our hearts, and their love is the masterpiece we carry forever. Even when they are gone, their colours remain—soft, bright, and everlasting.

I miss you, Ummi. Thank you for painting the sun in my life.