A Missing Piece

It's kind of strange how I'll always miss home.

Home.

What an obscure word. I've never really had a 'home' per se. But somehow 'Malaysia' and 'home' have come mean the same thing. To resemble similar connotations.

Why?

I haven't been 'home' for so many years. Holidays barely count. I can't speak the language(s) and if I were to ever go back, I know several foreigners who could and actually do fit into Malaysian society better than I ever could if I tried.

So why does the name 'Malaysia' still ring a bell for me, everytime I hear it?

I can look at a Tourism Malaysia advert with orang utans on it advertising Borneo and still feel sad. I've never been anywhere near Borneo, and I don't even like orang utans!

Listening to my friends talk about 'going home' always gives me a heart rending pang. I've never liked it, but I endure it all the same. One friend told me he was going back 'home' to Singapore during the uni holidays and it hit, just as hard and painful as it always did back then.

Everytime I go home, I feel a sense of relief, yet a sense of restriction. I want so much to be there more than anything else. But I could never live there permanantly. Like I know I could never live like that.

I watch the wandering locals as they shop to their hearts content and bargain at the market. And then every morning, watch them head off to their dreary '9 to 5' jobs without any reassurance of 'after hours pay'. Not there is really such a thing as a '9 to 5' job in Malaysia. Most jobs tend to be 12 hours a day or longer.
I can think of the fruits I miss. Jackfruits, papayas, mangoes, korean pears, cikus...all the very best in one country. And then my mind wanders to the enduring humidity and the unbearable period before a storm breaks over the crowded metropolitan KL.

It's like I know of something better. No matter where I am. I want the best of both worlds. Or several for that matter. A whole new world. Created just right, fitting my every need and want.

But it's not going to happen. There's no such thing as a perfect world. Only close to perfect. You can only try to be satisfied with what you have. Because what's the point in coveting what you don't have?
The grass is always greener on the other side. But your grass may just be greener than somebody else's.
Home is where you hang your hat. But my hat needs to be constantly moved.
I've always thought that the reason I could never stay in one place is because I needed to fulfill every aspect of my life. To get my share of something that I knew was better, even if it was on the other side of the world.

So is this the way it's going to be? I'll travel my whole life searching for the missing piece?
I've been asked if my global-nomad status will ever come to an end. Whether I'll ever be satisfied with staying in the one place. One guy I met even asked if I managed to stay in one place long enough to make any friends. My answer to that was to remain silent and to finally say that I was never really sure.

In which case, I can only hope that my perfect jigsaw can be found within this world. Or that I can find something better to fit the missing piece.

xx