Bayswater Story

"These days are dark and the nights are cold

People acting like they lost their soul
And everywhere I go I see another person like me
Trying to make it all feel like home"

As I walked back from tarawih prayers, in what has become a daily routine for me this Ramadhan, I was alone… I felt lonely and cold, abandoned in a foreign land, alienated. A reject to my surroundings, these sensations were juxtaposed against that of the prayers. For I had exited into a street from inside the Malaysian Students Dept. Where the inside was warm and full of my bretheren, and there was steaming hot fruit tea and hearty Malaysian food, the outside felt hostile, from the first touch of the wind as I ascended up the stairs, to the orange light, as prevalent as the ambient frost, of the streetlights greeting me at street level. For I felt holy inside from prayers, but outside I felt unenlightened.

Yet this is entirely my doing. It is a fault of mine, for the streets have not rejected me. They have not welcomed me with open arms either. I have cast myself aside, and become an external entity to this place. What’s in a name? Lately I have been seeing the word LONDON, with the ON at end in red: LONDON. I have come here with the intention of making this place my home for the three years of study, yet once here I have failed to do so out of my own doing. And the last vestiges of the past are present but bare. I feel abandoned by the people of that past life, those who also have come to this place.  There is a painful closure in the immenent separation of paths. It is only that I have gone my way first.

Tonight, I walked through a living sculpture, a walk across Queensway and it’s figurines, each a caricature of their lives. Somehow they appear as though they belong. Would that I could view myself and see whether I appear as though I belonged, for I do not feel it.

A million miles away, yet I still move on. This is Day 8, and I have lost an ally…

I am tired… But no, not physically, though that may be true. I am tired; mentally and emotionally. You see, this is something that happens often in a person like me, someone who does not show their true feelings. We lose a part of our humanity; that is the price we pay. Sometimes events happen that make us question the fundamental truths we have established. Such an event happened today…

Have you ever had a friend, for whom you would put great effort to help them? You would spend much time and energy just to help them for whatever cause. I’ve had such a friend. Have you then ever been disregarded and ignored, despite what you’ve done? It was such an event that provoked in me something I had not felt for ages: anger… And, anger is something I fear more than death. It causes us to act irrationally, to say and do things we may regret later, and to destroy foundations laid in and worked upon for years. I had not felt it in years; not this strongly at least.

An eternal anger passed. It brought with it new feelings and thoughts, washing away the remnants of that other thought. Anger gave way to sadness and disapointment. Sadness and disapointment gave way to exhaustion. Today I walked back under a dark canopy of storm clouds, with my hood as the only cover. I passed from dark of sky to the dark of the underground, and back to the dark of sky. I contemplated about how people always draw links between what they are feeling and the weather. And in my mind was Fuel, playing: Had a bad day again… I am tired, I need to rest…

It has been another long day. Luckily that biochemical engineering lecture did not last the 3 hours it was supposed to. Thus I made it home in time to… go out again, this time with my housemates to the Qatar mosque. Why Qatar mosque? Simple really… They serve delicious, wholesome, and generously portioned (very important point) food for the people at Iftar (fast-breaking). And most importantly, if you’re a student on a budget, you get a meal FOR FREE!!! (Alhamdulillah!) Ok, for the non-Muslims who are already thinking ahead, there is a ‘catch’ (well, not really if you’re a Muslim): you must pray first. Well, there isn’t much that can beat good, hearty middle-eastern food, generously portioned, with loads of rice and an entire chicken breast or thigh all to yourself. Mmmm… now that’s the way to fast.

Wishing all of my Muslim brothers and sisters Ramadhan Mubarak… It has been two days since my dad left London for Malaysia and my life away began. I know I blog as often as a lunar eclipse, but I feel it is time to begin where I left off last time; with intentions and resolutions, and (hopefully) end with implementation. I only wish I had done this sooner; that my time with my family would have yielded something to remember them by. Then the P.O.D song played on Winamp, "Goodbye For Now".

I took the tube for the first time this morning… alone. Really, it was not difficult, but I was nervous to begin with. It took me 20 minutes to get from Bayswater to Euston Square. I allowed for 1 hour and came to UCL with plenty of time to spare, time which, as it turned out, I would need to find the lecture theater I was supposed to go to. Univeristy life is starting to get pretty complicated, and I don’t mean socially. I have always been an introvert, and will continue to be so, even if it doesn’t seen as such. What I mean is the massive, complicated, intricate behemoth that is UCL that is creating complications. Yes, it is a compact site, but it’s also more complicated than Kampung Baru. But I rarely get lost anymore.

Even in Day 2 I have yet to feel homesick. Is it a flaw, a disorder not to feel this? I feel very dehumanised, like one of Asimov’s robots. R.Syamil. Some people find that it is better not to feel homesick. I don’t know… I would think it would be comforting to have such a yearning for home, as twisted and convoluted as this may sound. Bear with me, my thoughts take me further. Homesickness is part and parcel of a person’s memories and experiences of home. It signifies a deep sense of attachment to our roots and origins. Does that then mean that I do not have such an attachment? I have always thought otherwise; that I my bonds to my home and family were strong. That is exactly why I question why I don’t feel homesick.

The life is slowly accellerating… Uni courses are now starting in ernest, with last week and the week before serving as ’settling period’. I only wish that I had made better use of that time. So far there has been no homework (apart from our optional "Write an essay on ANY topic. Min 4 paragraphs") which, at first, sounded like a bloody joke to me (moi, a literature student used to writing pages and pages for essays). However, our tutor did promise that the best essay will win it’s author some new (and expensive: >50 pounds) testbooks, so I’m in. The problem is what exactly to write about.

Apart from little quirks here and there, I actually think I’m settling in quite nicely. My place isn’t exactly luxurious, but at 150 pounds A MONTH it’s a bargain. True, I’m sharing a room, but we have our own bathroom, and loads of nice facillities. And all my housemates are Malaysian… Maybe that’s why I don’t feel so homesick. Transport should cost around 80 pounds a month, but the net result is still cheaper than uni accomodation. Let the studies begin then…