Seorang pencemar budaya dan ibu bapanya.
They can call me names. If it's up to me to forgive them, I do, and with a clear conscience.
They will most likely keep calling me names and condemning me. And each time they do it, my heart bleeds a little.
But when my little film won in France, the joy on my parents' faces was like cool balm on my furrowed brow.
As mak smiled broadly on stage, and abah wiped the tears from his face, I could feel God's pleasure envelop my whole being. My pounding heart felt close to bursting.
It's not such a bad thing after all, being labelled a "pencemar budaya".