Arya News - Out of those discussions emerged a local literary collective championing artistic expression in the national language.
BANDAR SERI BEGAWAN – During the uncertainty of the COVID years, a group of young Bruneians found themselves asking a simple but weighty question: where was Bruneian literature in Bahasa Melayu headed?
Out of those discussions emerged a local literary collective championing artistic expression in the national language. Among those involved was poet and creative writer Isyraq Zar, one of its founders.
“Taris Sirat is a Bruneian literary movement collective with a street-inspired character, which now serves as a platform for writers and art enthusiasts to create and express their work.”
Together with several peers, he set out to create space for poetry, storytelling and literary collaboration rooted in Bahasa Melayu.
Much of their early literary activism had taken place informally before the name Taris Sirat surfaced in late 2021. It was only towards the end of 2024 that the collective became more visibly involved in the sastera sphere – attending workshops, collaborating with fellow artists and participating more actively in literary spaces.
“It was born from the dreams of young people: to see (Malay) literature one day become a way of life, no longer merely cultural heritage,” Isyraq said.
Originally made up of four members, the group later expanded. Today, a small number remain actively involved on the ground, while others continue contributing behind the scenes.
Commitments have evolved, but the intention, he said, has remained consistent.
In Brunei Darussalam, Bahasa Melayu remains the national language and the mother tongue of the majority.
Yet in daily life – especially in professional settings and much of the digital sphere – English often takes the lead as the lingua franca of global engagement.
Though constitutionally secure, Bahasa Melayu quietly competes for space in contemporary creative expression.
For Isyraq, the issue was never about rejecting English, but about ensuring artistic expression in Bahasa Melayu did not recede into nostalgia.
The beauty of depth
Asked what made Bahasa Melayu beautiful, Isyraq spoke less as an academic and more as someone personally moved by it.
“What makes Bahasa Melayu beautiful, in general, is its softness, its courtesy, and the depth and complexity of its meanings.”
“I see Bahasa Melayu like an onion – you can peel back each layer and be surprised at how many layers it took to form its shape. And imagine, every layer has its own purpose, its own uniqueness and beauty.”
For him, that layered quality was central to poetry. Meaning was rarely singular or immediate.
Collaborative poems by Taris Sirat for the exhibition. PHOTO: TARIS SIRAT/BORNEO BULLETIN
“How do I show them that poetry is not meant to be understood in a purely linear way? It is like a Dan Brown novel – you see the complexity, the hidden hints, the codes.”
He observed that while many young Bruneians appreciated Bahasa Melayu, some felt insecure speaking it fluently. Others who had grown up abroad tried to reconnect with their language and culture, only to feel discouraged.
“If we use the beauty of Bahasa Melayu to exclude those who are trying to learn, then what is the point? We should share it. We should nurture those who wish to grow with it.”
Language, in his view, should invite participation rather than gatekeeping.
The digital space as canvas
If poetry revealed the depth of the language, the digital world offered a stage.
Social media has become one of the most influential cultural spaces of this generation. It shapes taste, humour and identity. It is where young people test their voices.
“I think we need to reflect on the fact that social media is a very powerful tool for anyone who wants to educate or empower others,” he said.
He imagined the possibilities: lecturers going live to teach “Bahasa Melayu 101”, creative communities hosting quizzes and interactive sessions, poets delivering impromptu spoken word.
The concern, he stressed, was never that existing content was inherently harmful, but that presence itself mattered.
“Even though there is an abundance of content in other languages and from other countries, we should recognise the importance of producing and promoting Malay content – whether for entertainment or simply for education.”
In a digital environment consumed by children as much as adults, language shaped more than communication. It shaped familiarity, comfort and cultural grounding.
Language as identity
Beyond artistic expression, Bahasa Melayu carried symbolic weight.
“Generally speaking, one of the ways a nation or people are defined is through their language. It is a major key point of identity. If we cannot begin with tradition, then we must begin with language – and vice versa.”
Art, he added, has long served as a reflection of a society’s strength and cultural pulse.
“We cannot be a nation that merely reminisces about the history of our language, art, or heritage. We must preserve and practise them to the best of our ability – until they become second nature.”
In Brunei’s bilingual reality, Isyraq did not argue for isolation. He believed young people should master their mother tongue while also mastering other languages.
Collaborative poems by Taris Sirat for the exhibition. PHOTO: TARIS SIRAT/BORNEO BULLETIN
The shift, he suggested, lay in perception – to stop seeing Bahasa Melayu as an obligation and start experiencing it as something living.
“Taris Sirat is an idea forged by different personalities, different backgrounds and different levels of education, yet united by one shared dream: to see Bahasa Melayu loved and understood. Nothing more, nothing less.”
He recalled a line shared by someone dear to him:
“Language, cultural traditions and inherited arts must evolve with the times. Progress in all these aspects will promise improvement for the nation.”
For Isyraq, the aspirationis and has always been about visibility and accessibility – demonstrating that art and language could be loved, practised and appreciated beyond academic pathways.
It was also about affirming that Bruneian youth were not turning away from tradition, but reinterpreting and carrying it forward in ways that felt contemporary and relevant.
In the end, the question was not whether Bahasa Melayu would survive.
The question was whether it would merely be remembered – or consciously embraced as part of everyday life. – Wardi Wasil