I Will Not Let Go
The third painting which is most closest to my heart is about a solution that already exist but only that we are not paying attention to it. A nation is judged by the state of its cultural progression. Traditions that are intertwined with culture, needs to be protected and preserved and most importantly understood. This painting is about the sensitivity of each culture that makes up Malaysia. Being a Tamilian, I used this girl, who to me represents the community. The container, a lunchbox which she is holding is an antique, coming from a time when the early Indians started working in the estates. The intensity of her look, the container in hand and the 'mehndi' design that shows the images of the Indian immigrants journey into this country is done to remind us of the importance of our culture. This I call 'I will not let go'.
…I will not let go
our dream, the song my father whispered in my ears
...i will not let go
we came by the sea, he will sing
made a home within trees that bled milk
he will sing
…we grew like the little ants
working, the father worked
the mothers worked and our sisters and brothers
all worked, as the moon faded within the morning skies
he will sing
…the trinkets on our mothers feet
and the rugged drums that our fathers played
and the rest listening, fading their sorrows reliving a fantasy
...and he continued singing
…a fantasy that rose from the mind of our ancient ones
and we shared our stories with our neighbours and friends
and decorated their innocence with our scattered beliefs
our children grew, with the other brothers and sisters of this land
…often the young ones wondered, why is he yellow
and she brown, what strange sounds they make to talk their mind
the forest became small and the roads wider
and Malaya became Malaysia
and still many remained within the estates, among the mosquitos
he will sing
our children grew
now some doctors, some engineers
and many more lawyers
and among the rest
we too spoke our tongue
we danced, sang aloud
he will sing
but many closed their doors
and chose to live among their own
and our tradition faded without a song
he will sing
he was once parameswara
now he has another name
and the story of our forefathers changed
he will sing
I will not let go
We will not let go
…mark this in the flesh of our people
he will sing
Of our tradition that our grandfathers brought
Into this estates and into our tomorrows
sing this, sing this aloud
...you will not let go
…I will not let go
our dream, the song my father whispered in my ears
...i will not let go
we came by the sea, he will sing
made a home within trees that bled milk
he will sing
…we grew like the little ants
working, the father worked
the mothers worked and our sisters and brothers
all worked, as the moon faded within the morning skies
he will sing
…the trinkets on our mothers feet
and the rugged drums that our fathers played
and the rest listening, fading their sorrows reliving a fantasy
...and he continued singing
…a fantasy that rose from the mind of our ancient ones
and we shared our stories with our neighbours and friends
and decorated their innocence with our scattered beliefs
our children grew, with the other brothers and sisters of this land
…often the young ones wondered, why is he yellow
and she brown, what strange sounds they make to talk their mind
the forest became small and the roads wider
and Malaya became Malaysia
and still many remained within the estates, among the mosquitos
he will sing
our children grew
now some doctors, some engineers
and many more lawyers
and among the rest
we too spoke our tongue
we danced, sang aloud
he will sing
but many closed their doors
and chose to live among their own
and our tradition faded without a song
he will sing
he was once parameswara
now he has another name
and the story of our forefathers changed
he will sing
I will not let go
We will not let go
…mark this in the flesh of our people
he will sing
Of our tradition that our grandfathers brought
Into this estates and into our tomorrows
sing this, sing this aloud
...you will not let go