Music Drama
I'm Still Standing
Pain can knock us down. But humour gets us back up, and music puts us on our feet again. If you've ever fallen, been left behind, or felt like a busted radio, read this to the end.
An electric guitar wailed through the rehearsal room, sounding like a souped-up kapcai motorbike.
Eisya gripped the microphone, her face deadly serious.
“Mic check… one, two… three. Eh, why do I sound like a busted radio?”
Man Buaya, the guitarist famous for his smooth-talking crocodile grin, jumped straight in.
“Even a busted radio has fans, Eisya. Don't worry. I once got a girlfriend by singing busted-radio karaoke.”
Bella, the drummer, was already doubled over with laughter, tapping the drums as if she were adding her own laugh track.
Eisya tried to smile, but deep down she still remembered her ex's sweet promises.
Promises that had sounded beautiful but turned out to be poison.
Her nights used to overflow with tears, like a seven o'clock soap opera.
“My tears have dried up like iced Milo without the ice,” Eisya said while they were hanging out at the mamak.
Bella fired back at once.
“If they're dry, do you want to order a refill? I can throw in extra sugar too.”
Everyone laughed until the teh tarik nearly spilled.
A few weeks later, Eisya stood on the small stage of a café. The spotlight landed squarely on her face, and the crowd began to cheer.
She drew a breath and launched into the song with everything she had.
“I'm still standing… though your love betrayed me…”
Her voice was more than a song.
It was a punchline aimed at her own life.
Halfway through the performance, Eisya spotted her ex standing by the café door.
She gave him a crooked smile and sang even louder.
“And if you see me now… I'm no longer the one you hurt. I'm a woman standing tall… with courage in her heart.”
When the song ended, Eisya still had time for a joke with the crowd.
“If anyone's ex has turned up tonight, don't worry. This song really is for them. But they still have to pay for a ticket, bro!”
The audience erupted in laughter, drumming their hands on the tables to Bella's beat.
Man Buaya even launched into a guitar solo so long it felt like a victory parade for Eisya.
That night, Eisya realised she was more than the vocalist of a small band.
She had fallen.
She had been hurt.
She had believed promises that eventually became nothing more than promises.
But she was still standing.
With the humour that had carried her through the bad days, the courage slowly growing inside her again, and a pop rock voice that no longer sang for the person who had left her behind.
This time, Eisya was singing for herself.
And if life tried to knock her down again, at least she knew one thing now.
Even a busted radio can still have fans.
An electric guitar wailed through the rehearsal room, sounding like a souped-up kapcai motorbike.
Eisya gripped the microphone, her face deadly serious.
“Mic check… one, two… three. Eh, why do I sound like a busted radio?”
Man Buaya, the guitarist famous for his smooth-talking crocodile grin, jumped straight in.
“Even a busted radio has fans, Eisya. Don't worry. I once got a girlfriend by singing busted-radio karaoke.”
Bella, the drummer, was already doubled over with laughter, tapping the drums as if she were adding her own laugh track.
Eisya tried to smile, but deep down she still remembered her ex's sweet promises.
Promises that had sounded beautiful but turned out to be poison.
Her nights used to overflow with tears, like a seven o'clock soap opera.
“My tears have dried up like iced Milo without the ice,” Eisya said while they were hanging out at the mamak.
Bella fired back at once.
“If they're dry, do you want to order a refill? I can throw in extra sugar too.”
Everyone laughed until the teh tarik nearly spilled.
A few weeks later, Eisya stood on the small stage of a café. The spotlight landed squarely on her face, and the crowd began to cheer.
She drew a breath and launched into the song with everything she had.
“I'm still standing… though your love betrayed me…”
Her voice was more than a song.
It was a punchline aimed at her own life.
Halfway through the performance, Eisya spotted her ex standing by the café door.
She gave him a crooked smile and sang even louder.
“And if you see me now… I'm no longer the one you hurt. I'm a woman standing tall… with courage in her heart.”
When the song ended, Eisya still had time for a joke with the crowd.
“If anyone's ex has turned up tonight, don't worry. This song really is for them. But they still have to pay for a ticket, bro!”
The audience erupted in laughter, drumming their hands on the tables to Bella's beat.
Man Buaya even launched into a guitar solo so long it felt like a victory parade for Eisya.
That night, Eisya realised she was more than the vocalist of a small band.
She had fallen.
She had been hurt.
She had believed promises that eventually became nothing more than promises.
But she was still standing.
With the humour that had carried her through the bad days, the courage slowly growing inside her again, and a pop rock voice that no longer sang for the person who had left her behind.
This time, Eisya was singing for herself.
And if life tried to knock her down again, at least she knew one thing now.
Even a busted radio can still have fans.
Translation
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