Haruskah Hati Merindu? To Live Solely For Oneself

 I never believed in my godmother (Norma Norell) when she spoke to me about finding oneself. I thought that I had already found myself. But perhaps I was still in the clouds of the past when I thought of it.

I always wanted to follow in my late mother's footsteps, and maybe even in my mysterious father's ways. Especially being a young artist in Malaysia with a Western approach to music, as a young teen, I always wanted to try so many things for the sake of being accepted. From dangdut to the current typical Malay "ballads", what have I not tried to be accepted and achieve that goal of being recognised? I gave up in 2023 and said that my new rendition of my previously released single from 2020 was going to be my final project. I gave up on life, even, and thought that if I were to die, at least “they” would have a piece telling a story of my life. Now, I realised how childish that was.

 

Last year I was planning on paying tribute to my mother by recording one of the songs that she had written for Alleycats, but perhaps it was not meant to be. I thought I had enough money to bring that project to life, but truth be told, after the burden of my medical expenses I had to carry all on my own, I was only left with enough money to pay for the music arrangement and nothing else. It was to be a heartfelt tribute with a music video, with good mixing and mastering, and of course, with royalty-paid. Unfortunately, it was all in vain as I underestimated the costs of producing. But perhaps it was meant to be. The project was to honour my mother’s career, but I believe that if she was here, she would’ve wanted me to have my own career as opposed to walking in her shadows.

I think carrying her pseudonym as my last name is already enough to honour her, as she was never the type who walked on the red carpets and posed for the cameras. To make her proud, I believe that I had already made her “proud” by standing up on my own to take care of her all those years when she was sick.

If that’s not enough, I’ve won an award for one of my articles written in her name, which I didn’t intend to use at first, but I was advised to do so, so I can be more familiar sounding in showbiz, given my mother’s pioneer status. Which has never come in handy in my case. Most people would just stray me away when they find out who I am.

Nevertheless, despite my experimental experiences, I believe that I have made her more than proud with whatever good I’ve done, and I know that she would want me to record my own songs before recording hers to call my own.

 

That Man I Was Supposed to Call “Father”.

I wrote and recorded a Malay song recently, not in that typical style the people nowadays call a ballad. But rather, a tearfully written poem I had written upon pondering on my ‘relationship’ with my father.

I was raised fully by my mother with occasional visits from my father figures (my mother’s friends and colleagues), I appreciate them truly, but I sometimes can’t help but miss my father. I started dreaming of him a lot after my mother died. But something tells me that maybe I should let him go, and stop trying to find him.

As a son, I know that I must always bear him in mind, heart and especially in my prayers, and this song tells a story of that. I was taught by my mother never to write something too disclosed when it comes to expressing feelings. So, I adopted a way of telling my story as a message as opposed to a statement. As the lyric goes, ‘I can only send him prayers when greetings are not answered.’

The letter was set in a sentimental classic tune and was recorded live, accompanied by a piano played by my friend, Ludwig Medrano, and was named Haruskah Hati Merindu

 

I knew that I was proud of that piece. I wrote it, I composed it, and I sang it live, and it was MUCH better than the previous songs I had recorded. But when I sent it to my contacts, none responded other than these two people, Dato’ Natrah, and Dato’ Sri Raja Rezza Shah @ Shah Rezza. At first Dato’ Natrah, or Ibu complimented my work, but then I thought that maybe she was just being nice. But then I sent it to Shah Rezza, the actor. He said that the song was nice and complimented my performance.

Maybe it came from him, an iconic figure in the scene, or maybe because I knew that I could and should write my own pieces, but whichever it was, I felt that fiery passion to do more and go further even when no one around me gave me any response.

 

To Get That Feeling Again

That feeling gave me the courage to trace back the confidence I had lost 4 years ago, and I started writing more. I couldn’t care less if the majoring demographic doesn’t appreciate my ‘distinct’ taste. I have decided to stick to what I had always longed to do, which was not to blend in, merge with, let alone compete with anyone. My mother was the jury for the first Juara Lagu, it would be an insult to her to have her son be a clown on the stage.

 

Why should I hurt my throat trying to hit the same notes? Why should I dress like a cosplay artist when I can make better clothes on my own? And why should I beg anyone to lead me to some place I don’t belong?

My repertoire is the old classics and cool jazz, and I should stick to that. And I am not ZIEMAN, I am her son. I am Qadeem Zieman, I carry her blood, and maybe her talent. But I am not her. Thus, I should not be bothered to live my life as I please, even if it requires me to steer away from her likings and interests. I should, however, pay her tributes when it’s due, but I should never lose myself to be with anyone, especially when the person is gone.

The same goes for my father. I met him once, and after that, I noticed that he had been spying on me through his friend who came to my workplace in 2023 to take a look at me for 2 hours, followed by a short visit from his son. I sent him a message, but he didn’t respond to me. Instead, he stalked me on social media.

When I moved into a new place in 2024, I realised that I had been followed by 2 luxury cars on Ramadan. At first, I thought of it as a coincidence until I met the same guy who showed up at my workplace appearing at my doorstep. It took me months to realise that he was my brother. I know my father cares, or at least he did for a moment. We have the same feeling in our hearts, but our souls are far apart for whatever reason. Either that or he thinks that I’m after his money, which I am not! I am not desperate, nor am I that cheap.

I spent the whole of last year trying to be with him after he looked for me first. I wish to say “I’m sorry but I have to go.” But it seems as though he had said that to me years ago. Therefore, there should not be any words spoken between us. It’s enough that I said “Hello” and he said “Hi” that one and only time we met.

I shall write about what I feel to feel better about myself, not to beg anyone to be with me when their hearts are clearly drowned in wealth!

Live feels free when you start living solely for yourself. Indeed, I had learnt from the best. Goodbye.