THE message blinks onto my phone screen, a welcome disruption from the monotony of a stalled story draft. "Misssss! I got some news for you. I just broke my fourth record!" The exuberance is palpable even through text, a digital echo of Selinaah Muralitharan's excitement.
As I read through the message, memories of our last conversation come flooding back. Then, it was all about her proud achievement in the Malaysia Book of Records. Now, the young woman I once knew as a dedicated medical student and rising poet will soon be graduating as a doctor. But it seems that she's added another milestone to her collection of records.
"My university, Malaysian Allied Health Sciences Academy (Mahsa) will be presenting me with my second Asia Book of Records award next week," the message scrolls across my screen, continuing: "I'll be sitting for my finals this November, so this will be my last poetry achievement as a medical student!"
I let out a quiet chuckle, realising it's time for us to reconnect. As I prepare to set aside my half-hearted writing attempt for the day, a sense of anticipation courses through me as I look forward to being swept up in another lively encounter.
THE SHARK RETURNS
The cafe in Bangsar, the "port" where we'd agreed to meet for our overdue catch-up is alive with the clatter of cups and the murmur of conversations, but amidst this cacophony, Selinaah, a former national shuttler and younger sister to Malaysia's women's badminton doubles pairing, Thinaah Muralitharan, is a calm and focused presence.
She rises from the wooden stool, a lanky, slim figure clad in a simple light blue sports top with a Yonex logo in the corner, her enthusiasm cutting through the ambient noise. I note that her coffee cup is nearly empty, the remnants swirling in the bottom like a reflection of her busy, multifaceted life.
"Oh my God, Misssss… it's soooo nice to see you again!" Her voice, warm and genuine, wraps around me as she greets me, beaming broadly.
"Are you still a shark?" I tease the bubbly Cancerian as we sit across from each other, the warmth of our reunion filling the cosy cafe nook. We both burst into hearty laughter, the joke from our previous meeting coming alive once more.
Selinaah's laughter rings in my ears, and I'm transported back to our last encounter, more than a year ago. I recall her earnest face, framed by her glasses, as she introduced herself. Her words from that day — "I'm a shark, Miss" — suddenly swim into my memory with vivid clarity.
We were sat at a discreet al fresco corner of a popular Damansara cafe, and I'd studied the beaming, bespectacled young woman before me, wondering if perhaps she had lost her marbles since our initial meeting in 2020. Back then, at her family home in Klang, I had come to interview her for her proud entry into the Asia Book of Records for her record-breaking love poem, My Soulmate.
"Shark?" I remember asking her, completely puzzled, noting how her eyes sparkled with mischief.
She'd confided: "I always tell my friends I'm a shark! From young, I've had this fascination with sharks and collected many books about them. My dad used to put Animal Planet on for me, and every time there was a show about sharks, I'd be glued to the screen."
I recall her continuing her story, tone playful. "Miss, do you know that sharks can never stop swimming? Even when they're resting, they're still moving. If they stop, they die," she'd enthused.
Unable to resist my curiosity, I'd piped in incredulously: "And you're a shark because…?" And with a big grin, I remember her replying: "Ahhh, you see, even when I'm stressed or sleeping, I keep swimming. Sharks know what they want. When they smell blood, they go full steam ahead. That's me. When I want something and I know I really want it, I just go for it. I'm a shark, Miss!"
As we both grin at the memory, Selinaah suddenly exclaims: "Miss, guess what! This year when I went to Cebu Island in the Philippines, I finally managed to realise my dream of swimming with the largest shark in the world — the whale shark!"
Her eyes dance excitedly when she continues: "We were taken to the middle of the ocean in a boat. I tell you Miss, the whale shark was HUGE — as big as this shop. But I never felt scared. They don't harm you; they just swim past you. Can I show you my video?"
BALANCING ACT
As Selinaah sets her phone aside, the screen still glowing with images of her swimming beside a majestic whale shark, I ask her about the other facets of her busy life since our last meeting. "I've been juggling studying, writing, and traveling, Miss," she replies, her voice a blend of weariness and resolve.
She recounts her fourth year of medical school as a whirlwind of intense medical postings (at Hospital Kuala Lumpur) and relentless exams, all demanding a high degree of commitment. "It's been incredibly stressful," she admits, her brows knitting together as she emphasises the strain.
"Final year is supposed to be the toughest, but I actually found the fourth year more challenging," she concedes, adding: "We had nine postings and nine exams. This year, there are six exams, followed by the finals in November."
The stark contrast between the ceaseless demands of her medical training and the reflective solitude required for her poetry is striking. Yet, despite the overwhelming pressure, Selinaah's determination to excel in both her academic and creative pursuits remains unwavering.
Her achievements in poetry are impressive — two Malaysia Book of Records and two Asia Book of Records. Each record is a testament to her creativity and discipline. "Last year, I submitted a melancholic poem for the Asia Book of Records," she explains, elaborating: "It was 3,324 words long, spread across 118 stanzas. The previous record was for a love poem. The reason I decided to pen a melancholic poem was because I knew it was a category that had yet to be explored extensively."
MELANCHOLIC JOURNEY
Selinaah's latest record is not just a personal triumph, but a deep, introspective journey. The melancholic poem, inspired by a strained friendship, became a medium for her to process complex emotions. "The poem was about a friend who kept annoying me last year," she shares, adding: "Even though we're not as close as we used to be, I will always be grateful for the role she played in my life."
The poem's creation, she confides, was a cathartic experience. "When I was writing it, I was just relieving my stress," recalls Selinaah, elaborating thoughtfully: "But after reading it back, I realised that it was about outgrowing each other. It was a process of grieving a friendship that was once significant."
But that's reality, she muses somewhat sagely. "Just think about how many friends we actually outgrow in our life time, Miss? That's life. You can't stop it. The only thing you can do is get through it by grieving. Even though it's not an actual loss of a person's life, it's like a loss of the closeness you once had with someone."
Her ability to channel personal experiences into her poetry is a defining characteristic. "I don't bottle things up. I write poetry to express what I'm feeling. It helps me process my emotions," she admits, continuing: "Even though I'm known as someone who's always bubbly and chirpy, I use poetry to explore my melancholic side."
BEYOND BORDERS
Selinaah's eyes light up when she talks about her aspirations beyond the Asia Book of Records. "My ultimate dream is to achieve the world record," she declares, adding: "It's like in sports — everyone aspires to the World Championships or the Olympics. For me, it's the world record in poetry."
Her determination to achieve this goal is evident in her meticulous approach to her craft. "I've been working on my poetry for years, and while I'm proud of the records I've achieved, I want something unique for the world record. It has to be something that only I can do."
Her journey towards this is marked by a blend of innovation and perseverance. "I've tried applying for the world record before," reveals the 25-year-old, adding: "There's a record already for the longest poem, but it was done decades ago. I need to find a new angle to make my mark."
With such an obvious passion for writing, I couldn't help but wonder why this vibrant young medic doesn't just pursue writing full-time.
"Miss, I've always had a love for penning words — especially the romantic kind," replies Selinaah, a big smile lighting up her face. Elaborating, she explains: "You give me a few words, and I can easily spin them into a rhyme. I have stacks of notebooks filled with poems from over the years. At one point, I used to write every night, pouring out all my emotions."
On what fuels her love for poetry, Selinaah replies: "It's the rhymes, Miss! When you write a poem, it must have two things: a hidden message, whether direct or subtle, and it has to rhyme. Those two elements are essential — a beautiful message and a rhythmic flow."
Continuing, Selinaah reflects on her distinctive style. "Everyone has their own approach. Some poets don't focus much on rhyming; they prioritise the words themselves. My style? My friends often tell me they enjoy how I end my poems. They say I build up a story and then — 'bam!' — the rhyme surprises them. The rhyming keeps them engaged and on their toes."
What's the secret to writing good poetry?
"Ah Miss, remember what I told you last time?" she exclaims, grinning at my hapless shake of the head. "You need a muse," continues Selinaah, adding: "Once you have one, everything just flows. It's important to have some kind of emotional connection. That's why I can't just take personalities or celebrities as my muse. Once I know and care about you, your emotions affect mine too and then I can write with 'feel'."
COMPETITIVE SPIRIT
Selinaah's competitive edge is evident in her relationship with her sister, Thinaah, the country's celebrated badminton player who recently made Malaysia proud at the Paris Olympics when she and her doubles partner, Pearly Tan, made history for being the first Malaysian women's pair to reach the semifinals of the Olympics.
"The way my sister is competitive in sports is the same passion I have for my poetry," says Selinaah, simply, adding: "She's focused and driven, and these are also qualities that I share in my own pursuits."
While Thinaah represents the athletic world, her sporty younger sister's passion for coaching and developing young talent in badminton reflects her commitment to nurturing others. "I enjoy coaching more than playing now," confides Selinaah, continuing with a smile: "Seeing kids fall in love with the sport that I love brings me great satisfaction."
Her dual commitment to poetry and medicine mirrors the balance she maintains in her personal life. "My parents are used to me juggling multiple roles. For them, it's normal," she shares, adding: "My mum (a doctor), especially, is my rock. We're very close because I'm the youngest. She's always there to lift me up when I feel down."
As the minutes slip by and the last drop of my hot cappuccino is savoured, I turn to Selinaah with a question about her plans for after the whirlwind of exams. Her eyes light up with mischief, and she leans in, voice tinged with playful curiosity. "Miss, I'm thinking of trying out your favourite sport — pickleball! Do you think I'd be any good at it? Can I play with you?"
As laughter erupts again between us, I look at the gregarious young medic, contemplating her question with glee. Given her evident athletic prowess, the thought of Selinaah joining my pickleball team, KL Patriots, is thrilling. "Comeeeee!" I exclaim, already imagining the vibrant energy she'd bring to the court.
"Reckon your superstar sister might want to join too?" I blurt out, and once again, the cafe permeates with playful chuckles.
In a world where boundaries often confine us, Selinaah's story is a reminder that true success comes from daring to defy expectations and pursuing one's dreams with unwavering determination. Her journey is certainly far from over; it's an unfolding narrative of ambition and inspiration — one poetic stanza and medical breakthrough at a time.