The month of May was meant to be beautiful, a glimpse of what the rest of the quarter, and perhaps the year, could look like. Coming off April, there was growth, a genuine desire to be better. And while the numbers do reflect some of that intent, the final weeks of May brought a different tone, one that words struggle to fully capture.
Our portfolio performed well, despite our quiet stance heading into the final week. We posted a 4.15% return, compared to the index return of 5.54%, and our year-on-year performance stands at 6.72%. Those are solid numbers. But this month’s reflection isn’t about numbers.
I haven’t shared my core insights in recent reports, but I’m deeply grateful to the rest of the team who have continued to do so. They will carry the baton in June, as I take time away from the markets for the month.
For the first time, I find myself short of words, unsure of the theme, unsure of what to say. Perhaps, if there’s one truth I can hold onto, it’s this: beyond the charts, trades, and tickers, what truly matters are the people we hold dear. The market is always there: open, moving, constant. But the people we love are not. And when they are gone, the silence is deafening.
The theme for the past months had been resilience, sailing through storms with discipline and intent. But sometimes, resilience isn’t enough. Because there are moments no amount of strength can carry you through. Like the loss of someone you love.
Grief is a strange, unrelenting force. It surges like an electric storm across your chest, hollowing your heart into something unfamiliar, like a cold, empty vessel at the bottom of a fathomless sea. There are no words to soften it. No logic to soothe it. You simply learn to live with it.
Eventually, the pain dulls, not because it fades, but because you begin to grow around it. At first, it’s the only thing on your mind. Then one day, it becomes the second. And with it often comes guilt not for the loss itself, but for all the small ways we feel we fell short while they were still here.
The past few months had their metaphorical seas. But now, it feels like we’ve come to shore. And from here, the picture becomes clearer, I am human, just like everyone else.
I’ll be back, in time. Until then, the rest of the team will carry forward, with strength, insight, and heart.
— Ridwan
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