Manja

Somebody asked me recently why my blogs and online signatures were all signed as Manja. Well, its not just a pseudonym. It goes back around 11 years ago.
11 years ago I was in my final high school year. I had recently broken up with my high school sweet heart, and my family was tearing apart. My mum was sick with Parkinson's disease, my dad in complete denial of my mum's worsening state, was under a lot of pressure from my mum's condition, his work and also the tonnes of responsibility he suddenly had to hold. It had led to the aggressive behaviour of my father where he would let out his frustrations to us the children, in many forms such as emotional deprivation, physical and mental abuse. My two elder siblings were in UK doing their undergrad, and I unfortunately had to assume the role as the eldest with another three younger siblings.
It was the most frustrating years of my life, having to be shoved responsibility at such a young age, and being old enough to understand what was happening between mum and dad. Despite being in boarding school, by the time it was June - I had gone to see the head master for a school transfer as my dad had recently announced his new branch of the family and my mum was devastated beyond compare to the extent of almost suicidal. Despite my anger, I swallowed what I saw, heard and tried to be strong for my mum, to be there for her. However my headmaster was afraid I might self-sabotage myself to failure, as he considered me as one of the top scorers for the school. So we struck a deal instead, that I was allowed to return to KL every single weekend till SPM, no questions asked.
So every Friday I would travel 2 hours on the bus to get home, and then on Sunday return again to my school in Kuala Pilah. Despite my good intentions, I guess I am only human. I was frustrated with home, despite offering all my empathy - so I do admit that there were times that I didn't directly go home but went wandering instead, went and hanged out with my KL friends, went dating. Then only to return home close to 9 pm, which by my parent's standards was late. But I guess my mum understood after awhile that I needed an outlet to relieve myself, so she didn't ask me too many questions, she just looked happy to have me home.
I was completely lonely, I felt unloved. My dad called me a 'bohsia' because he had the false pretense that I was hanging out with wrong crowd. I took that personally and I could swear to God that at that time, he was the man that I hated most in my life. I became rebellious, I barely spoke to him, and each time I did it was not something nice to stomach. I was very direct and criticized him without sympathy. I was angry yet at the same time I felt betrayed, and alone. You see, when I was younger, I was my dad's golden child, his daddy's girl. From the first time he laid eyes on me in the labour room in Miri, which caused him to faint and wake up perhaps an hour later till the point before my mum became really sick. I was his prodigy child, the most obedient child he had, the one child that if ever he had to hit would bring tears to his eyes. I would be the child who he would bring to functions and other social events, the child that all his friends would recognize, his girl no doubt. Even my mum was close to me, to the point that the first time I was separated from her I was 10 and I cried 3 days she went off to Haj and I lost weight and became thin. I followed my mum everywhere, shared her passion for language art and poetry and I am usually the child that other friends would recognize more. Yes, I was such a baby then. Such a mummy and daddy's child. But it changed when my mum got sick. I was forced to choose between mum and dad, and dad was not helping me to side on his side.
That was when I was first introduced to the world of internet relay chat - irc. After sitting 10 minutes in front of the computer terminal in Sungai Wang, I chose the name Manja as my internet pseudonym. Manja means amiable in english - and also spoilt. I considered myself as a spoilt rich kid who is looking for some one who can pamper me as I was before. Someone who would 'manja' me as I wanted. And I guess my prayer was answered because by involving myself in internet network, I got to know many people and I didn't feel so lonely anymore. I was usually considered the 'little sister' because during those years only working adults used irc unlike today.

So I became Manja and all my online buddies would call me Manja. Even their parents would call me Manja thinking it was my real name. From there, I built Manja's character - someone amiable and happy, naughty and mischievous yet intelligent. She was my altered ego - something like my twin. There was where I met my ex-husband who fell in love with Manja but I guess, didn't really fall in love with me. For quite a number of years our character was separate. Manja was always hyper and happy and went for internet gatherings and liked the spotlight. Myself, I was the responsible sister at home taking care of my mum and siblings and studying at the same time. Manja gave me courage to do a lot of things including stuff that I know I shouldn't do, but she was irresponsible and loved to spend and binge and party and stuff.
After irc undernet was shut down due to the multiple hackings by some of our highly creative malaysian net users, I shifted my focus to RPGs and later MMPORGs. My main character would always be Manja. Usually a sexy elven sorceress, mage or healer. My last MMPORG character was a night elf druid - Manja - a character from world of warcraft and if you notice, adorns my facebook profile photo. No its not a robot.
Today, I still use Manja as a pseudonym but its more less just a pseudonym. She is no longer a separate entity from myself, we made our peace last year during one of my solitude escapades after the tragedy that led to my separation and divorce. Nobody barely calls me Manja anymore except my WOW buddies, but I do still respond to that name. After all, she is still a part of me.