AS I’m writing this week’s piece, my mind is muddled and distressed – from news of rising Covid cases, overworked frontliners, a broken healthcare system, a failed yet recalcitrant government, economic collapse among others. I’m also preparing a short presentation for an online arts symposium, which I would have completed by the time you read this article.

The manure hit the fan for me on Wednesday – courtesy of a cheap China-made tablet we bought  on a whim on Shopee during the July 7 super sale. It was meant for the children’s online kindergarten class.

Needless to say, the tablet is a complete mess. The earphone jacks for the speakers and earphones crackle and the touchscreen seems to have a mind of its own, swiping from Zoom to the various Google apps to start page and back again to Zoom where it randomly turns the microphone and camera on and off, attempt to share screen and whatnot, mid-class. 

So I reluctantly took leave of the meeting and I let the children use my tablet, which has been my lifeline for work and my sanity for the past 17 months. I had to use the China-made tablet for my important meeting and as per script it went bonkers again mid-meeting and I lost it. I went mental.

No one was hurt, mind you, but my focus was lost for the rest of the day. Hardly close to the trials and tribulations of frontliners and others who have been affected by the pandemic, but nevertheless another minor spectrum of how this pandemic affects us on a daily basis. I did eventually rejoin the meeting after online kindergarten was over. I didn’t miss much, apparently.

Aside from the symposium (and its online concert on Saturday night), I was psyched to be performing for the Derma Kilat Rakyat livestream tomorrow (I’m scheduled to perform between 3-4pm) featuring a slew of local performers from singers to stand-up comedians to public figures to raise funds to provide basic necessities and aid to communities hit hardest by the pandemic. Do tune in and contribute if you have the means and time to do so. Such events are far and between in Bolehland where people still watch what they boleh or tak boleh express in public.

I had a conversation with a fellow artist in the afternoon after my fiasco with the China-made tablet (which I threw on the sofa although I aimed for the wall) and he asked: have any of our so-called “pop stars” done any similar events to raise funds?

As far as I remember, it has only been the independent music community that has been involved or at least created works that respond to the pandemic, not our so-called “stars”.

Maybe there has been but I’m sure they had some official backing and funding, not truly from the grassroots as the ones I was involved in at the start of the pandemic last year. Most of us treat film and music as a form of escapism and that’s valid and understandable. Most don’t realise that it can also be our voice.

Artistically, I hope a bout of some sort of ethical awakening in our arts will wake us up to the already present voices braving torpedoes right now. The fact that we still look back at P. Ramlee and P. Ramlee alone to attribute some form of artistic social criticism is a failure of our society: we have failed to look around us and see those who have come after him.

We’re a nation drunk on nostalgia – a nostalgia of a past only imagined. Why not imagine a future instead? We should look back at the past to learn about the future, not for old glories to reminisce and gloat over repeatedly.

For a long time, the economic boom was ironically captained by the same group of old men who still stubbornly fight for the helm. That stasis shaped us into a politically stunted society (hope lies in our youth) because we failed to understand that ethics and political thought in action must also be reflected in the stories we tell ourselves in our literature and our arts including film and music.

This sows the seeds for the next generation. We’re still stuck arguing over which language should be used. There is a disconnect between how we are reflected in our own imaginings (our art) and how we really are (our realities). The good times are over, but we must float on. Somehow.

Let’s take a long, hard look at ourselves, too. Let’s not just point fingers at others because, well, that’s how our so-called “leaders” are prone to behave. We’re better than them.

We should be able to take a look at ourselves, warts and all, and accept our shortcomings so that we can better ourselves. It’s never too late, better late than never. Well, one can dream. Somehow.

Anyways, I must take leave now to prepare for that presentation. My mental attempt to prepare for it itself is an act of resilience, not because I’m good or great but because just attempting it keeps me sane.

This one’s for you, dear frontliners; my heart is with you because you are the true leaders in these dark uncertain times. Hang in there, sisters and brothers, we will prevail. Somehow. – July 16, 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.