I told my parents that I would be flying for only five years. Fifteen years later, I am still flying.
I took a course in hotel and resort management thinking one day I would be running a small hotel in my kampung but as my forties is fast approaching, the hotel that I had envisioned is slipping away.
I like to think that I have a good brain. I wish I had a better brain or should I say…I should have trained it to perform better at school. If I did just that, perhaps I have attained myself a higher achievement in life. Am I still thinking that I have a good brain? hmmm very unlikely!
Now, I think I spoiled myself to the brink of desperation and probably grow old as a disappointed person who had wasted much of his time dreaming. I am 37 and am I still have the time to make it?
People said that to make your dreams come true, you have to wake up, smell the coffee and make those dreams a reality.
Now…looking at those young chaps in the cockpit commanding the aircraft has really made me felt defeated. They are barely twenty and yet they have earned more than I did.
Where did I go wrong?
I could not blame my parents. My mak taught me well to be persevere in study. At six-year-old, she forced me to learn ABC by the “tiang seri”, the “rotan” was firmly in her hand and making sure that I had them memorized by the night fall. And by seven I had learned to read a proper book or short novel. At nine she sent me to learn English from one of the Chinese families in my kampung. By ten, I had a vast collection of comics and books.
My mak was the pillar in the family. My father was busy to make a living for us. All household’s decisions were commanded by the Queen.
I did well at school but it was not enough to propel me to the future. I did not have the right environment to properly carve and to see a broader angle on what the world has to offer. It was like, I had no one to look for an aspiration.
I wanted to be a doctor. I had even cut open a live rat. I nailed it’s four legs onto a wooden slap and used the 10cent knife to prick open the poor rat. I had seen it on telly and because of that, I agreed with a notion that television can sometimes influence the young minds.
Coming from a remote place like Langkawi had been difficult. It was, back then nothing much that you could see to be able to have a dream. It was never in my wildest dreams to be a flight attendant. It was a very distance to me to be a flight attendant because I had never thought that I have the look to be one. And I thought this job is meant for those who are good-looking and perhaps for smart people. After joining the “force”…..hmmmm (reserve my comment on this. Note: don’t get me wrong, we are not that stupid but extremely spoiled)
My secondary school was a Commerce and Arts, that surely was not the right platform to have an ambition to be a doctor. Then I went to Sultan Abdul Hamid College in Alor Setar hoping that this prestigious school could somehow rekindle my thought of taking medicine but I was shocked having my classmates(lower and upper six) that were all converse in English and there I was…I could not understand a word of what they were saying. I did well in my written tests but hardly had the opportunity to actually speak or orally practice the language in my kampung.
That was to me, my first culture shock. I survived briefly. I did not even know the student’s name who was seating next to me. Even though my time in SAHC was brief but I really like its ambience. It was a beautiful old school.
The idea of becoming a doctor immediately blown away when I took the course in hotel and resort management. It was a private college of which my parents had to sell legs and arms to school me there. Graduated from the college and yet I found myself rather…undecided on what to do. The idea was to pursue my study in Switzerland but it would be financially massive and my parents have both lost their limbs to pay for my earlier course and now to Zürich? They would have to sell their kidneys and eye balls this time if I ever so stubborn to pursue my study in Zürich. My mak especially would sell her entire internal organs to see me continue my study. I had enough seeing her burning the mid night oil…perhaps, it was time for me to earn a living.
Forget it! I told myself.
It was a mystery to me on why did I apply this job. Many people have tried numerous times to even succeeded to a second interview but mine was as smooth as silk. It was never my ambition…not even on the list.By sheer luck perhaps. Maybe it meant to be. Maybe I meant to be a flight attendant.
I should be counting my blessings but things are not progressing as good as I wanted it to be. Flying is no longer good for me financially. Time to move on.
Whomever reading this and has money to splurge, I have a patch of land in Langkawi….let sit down and talk. Perhaps my hope of running a hotel is still has a chance.