1987

I was born on October 19 1987, at Hospital Besar Kuala Lumpur.

Perhaps I was never truly wanted by the two people who brought me into this world.

From my very first day of life,
there was no father to whisper prayers into my ears.
No gentle voice to bless me.
No warm embrace to welcome me.
Only silence stood beside my birth.

People once called me a child of sin,
simply because no one recited prayers for me.
As if my fate had already been written,
before I even learned how to breathe.

On my second day in this world,
I was placed at a bus stop.
Left behind.
Alone.
Without a word of goodbye,
without a promise to return.

That was how my life began.

From the first moment I opened my eyes,
I was abandoned.
From my first breath,
I was taught that love was something
I was never meant to have.

I did not learn about affection from arms that held me.
I did not grow up with lullabies or gentle words.
Instead, I learned about survival,
about loneliness,
about standing alone in a world
that had already turned its back on me.

Yet, I am still here.

I am the child who was left behind.
I am the soul who grew up without love.
And I am the proof
that even a broken beginning
does not have to define the ending.