Andrew Khor

I was born cantankerous.

At least, that is how I like to introduce myself.

I grew up in Malaysia with two older sisters. My mother once told me that, had I been born a girl, I would have been given away. In those days, a baby’s arrival was also the moment the family discovered whether they had a son or a daughter. Once she told me that story, I decided I was entitled to a little attitude.

My sisters have always considered me the odd one out. I could never quite accept an explanation simply because it was the usual one. There was often another question to ask, another possibility to consider, another way of doing things. Not everyone appreciated that. And, to be fair, I was not always right.

Some memories stay with us.

I do not like oats. There is nothing wrong with them; my reasons are personal.

When I was ten, my father had a stroke. Feeding him became one of my daily responsibilities, and oats were part of that routine. Even now, they take me back to that time. Sometimes, the most ordinary things carry the deepest memories.

My favourite colour? The rainbow.

I have never felt the need to choose just one. I came to see each of its seven colours as having a reason to exist, beyond simply looking beautiful. Perhaps that is another expression of my curiosity: I like to look beyond what first meets the eye.

There is room for wonder.

I love elves and fairies. To me, they are real: companions in nature’s unfolding, helping the world blossom and bloom. That is part of how I experience the natural world, with a sense that there is always more to discover.

And then there is the important question: tea or coffee?

My answer shifts between teh tarik and caffe latte. One makes you relax. The other makes you think.

There is a time for both.