The Orang Asli

The Orang Asli…to some it might sound like nothing…not such a big deal…but to some others..which includes myself..the name just swells me up with such pride and joy… Not to mention also a tinge of sadness. I don’t know why but that meeting with them had changed my perceptions towards them a whole lot. The life that they potray may in fact be the kind of life that seem so pure and innocent, in a sense. The harmony that they bring about, with their close ties with the family, has lured me deep to get to know and appreciate them.
Nonetheless, I do feel such an obligation towards those in need. I’m not saying that I am an all important angelic woman, with which my touch will heal those hearts have been broken. But, there’s this feeling inside of me that is quickly touched, tugged ever so hard when I face those who are less fortunate.
These heart is stirred by the memories of those Palestinians, Afghans, Chechnyans…maybe I am a bit biased, concerned only of those of Islamic origins. I also feel that I am somewhat unfair on that side too. I cannot help myself, I’m afraid. For verily, this feeling of compassion was initially fuelled from my understanding of the deen. I never thought that I had this feeling before, much less than to even care about others that do not concern me. Nevertheless, this perception has changed, Alhamdulillah and now I can at least identify the feelings of those who are in dire conditions.
The Orang Asli, however, has tugged a different kind of feeling deep inside of me. I truly cannot explain how this feeling is All I know is that I’ve grown to love them so much. A part of me just wants to dedicate a part of my life to them and see them blossom into a fine bunch. I feel like nurturing them, to say the least.
Those in need, such as the disabled,and special people also play a part in my life but unfortunately not to the extent as becoming so passionate. I cannot understand this feeling, mind you. Honestly, I cannot say whether it is in fact a good or a bad thing actually.