AS a university student in the rather “ulu” city of Perth in the late 1990s, I had to find meaning wherever it may appear.

I arrived in the city in the winter of 1996. Winter in Australia is in the middle of the year, by the way – and the prospect of being independent in a foreign country (although Perth shares the same time zone as Malaysia – the only Western first world country to have that honour) for the next few years was both exciting and terrifying at the same time.

I was lucky in so far that two of my college mates – one of them a friend from school – also decided to end up in the same city so we became housemates and one of them – the friend from school – became my course-mate.

Familiarity is a blessing but it also breeds contempt. I’ll wax lyrical about this next time in the future.

The interesting thing about the opportunity of being abroad to further one’s studies is the prospect of discovering a new country and culture while also embracing (and navigating) the new-found freedom that young adulthood presents itself.

The possibilities are endless although maybe finding a soulmate and falling in love ranks high up in the list of desires of any young (middle-class) adult.

I too was far from immune to this fancy. Heck, it’s already exciting enough to be in a Western predominantly white country with four seasons and experiencing their more open and liberal society when it comes to the intermingling between the sexes in public spaces is in itself interesting,

Well, to me at least, since I’ve always found human relationships with each other a fairly interesting subject of scrutiny.

In my rather innocent and naive expectation of life at that juncture, I fell in and out of love numerous times in my head. Most of the time without the knowledge of the ones whom I fancied from afar.

It is a rather curious predicament when I think about it, with the benefit of hindsight obviously, since it is a rather gendered experience of infatuation that befall men more than women from what I understand.

But it is this same infatuation over the female of the species which has informed the vast history of popular songs and popular culture.

It is primarily because popular music historically, at least as popularly known, had very masculine origins and that women, going back through literature, poetry, and the visual arts often elevated women to the point of mythical worship – a rather insurmountable task to live it up when I think about it.

But nevertheless, this is how cultures around the world have valorised women and for a very good reason.

Women represented the continuity of any culture or civilisation when it comes to procreation and well, sustainability.

I’m not trying to get into a debate about gender and sexuality here. I’m trying to discuss how expectations and realities are often not what is often romanticised in cultural forms like songs and poetry but that does not make it less meaningful.

In fact, I’ll argue that it is important to totally romanticise whatever endeavour or pursuit one is determined to explore at the start because it is that form of single-mindedness that will insulate one from the self-doubting that the world and society around us will insist upon us.

And that self-doubting, unfortunately, embodies itself in culture. Whatever culture we see ourselves as having membership of.

For example, if you profess yourself as being “Malaysian”, therefore you also accept being a participant in the broader ecosystem of “Malaysian culture” and whatever forms it may find itself embodied in, from hanging out at the mamak outlet, to always being late for appointments (“I’m on my way bro!” when you actually just stepped out of the shower).

But even “Malaysian culture” itself is too vague a category to suggest having embodied some universal sense of “Malaysian-ness” when you start to problematise the nation-state (the academic term of “country”): Malaysia did not come into existence as a “country” until September 16, 1963.

So, “Malaysian culture” is a rather recent, almost facetious concept when you start to put that into context. We, as most citizens of any nation-state, often overstate the concept of the nation-state as if it’s some God-given entity that exists in time immemorial. It is not.

This sense of “nationhood” comes into clarity even more when one is abroad and away from one’s country of origin, in this example I use, as an “international student” overseas.

Far from the usual concern of elders – at least for me, as a Malay, I’m often reminded by some of my elder relatives to “not forget myself” a.k.a. “Don’t forget your roots in case you fall in love with a white girl” – being abroad rekindles one’s connection with your country of origin even more.

Your national identity becomes even more emphasised once placed in a cosmopolitan setting.

My time in Perth gave me plenty of time to reflect – and I had plenty of time there – on who I was, what things meant a lot to me and most importantly how I saw myself as a person in this rather absurd world. I’m an existentialist.

It wasn’t a norm of those from my generation to instinctively think of applying for permanent residence in Australia when we had the opportunity to study there in the late 1990s compared to the generations that followed.

Most of my peers came back to Malaysia and are still here. But looking at the state of this nation-state we call home, can one blame particular minorities to aspire to leave for the greener grasses of a Western and democratic nation-state like Australia as an alternative?

No country is perfect. You must always reflect and contextualise your own predicament to find that match for there’s truth when one says the grass is always greener.

To me, a nation-state is not geographical, it’s also a state of mind.

And unfortunately, in Malaysia, the grass is greener for many who feel disadvantaged and discriminated here and boy, does that grass need a good trim as our own backyard regresses further into “lalang” splendour, left into disregard, and cold-blooded reptilian threats.

The question we should ask ourselves is: who will be the one to see the yard for what it is and call the gardener?

Or will you take the initiative and trim the overgrowth yourself? Are you truly independent-minded? – October 22, 2021.

* Azmyl Yunor is a touring underground recording artiste, and an academic in media and cultural studies. He has published articles on pop culture, subcultures and Malaysian cultural politics. He adheres to the three-chords-and-the-truth school of songwriting, and Woody Guthrie’s maxim “All you can write is what you see”. He is @azmyl on Twitter.

* This is the opinion of the writer or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of The Malaysian Insight. Article may be edited for brevity and clarity.