Monday, 14 February 2011

Nothing but a calloused old soul

This is a sad state of affairs.

I've only been in Singapore a month, and yet it feels like forever! Things that used to delight and mystify now seem as boring as dirt.

I don't bat an eye when I see students sauntering about with take-away drinks in open-top, plastic bags. Sidewalks seem complete only if they are covered. Withered old men sweeping leaves from the paths every morning are as normal and reliable as the sunrise. Dishwashing paste is a fact of life. Sometimes I step on the cats with missing ears and broken tails who sit outside my room, I'm so used to them. Singlish is almost perfectly intelligible to me lah. Tropical flowers blooming every which way are practically like weeds.

Today, I went to a Bhangra lesson, ate some Indian food I'd never heard of before, and chatted to folks from China, Indonesia, South Korea, Russia, Scotland, and Singapore. Just another humdrum day. I tried to drown my sorrows in a bowl of laksa at dinner.

Oh, where has the magic gone! Maybe, it was used up in the fireworks and bejeweled costumes of the 8,000 Chingay Parade performers. Or, perhaps the ginormous, rabbit-shaped flower displays on Sentosa Island drained the wonder away. Maybe it is hidden on Istana's* golf course. Forsooth!

Will it ever come back? Maybe if Yuan punches me by accident in kickboxing class. Maybe if Tom mails me a WonderBox. Maybe if I sustain a head injury in ultimate.

Until then, I remain comfortably conditioned to life here. It almost feels like home.

*the President's house
It's really quite a mystery to me why he lives on a vast estate and the rest of the population remains in crowded flats. The perks of politics?

1 comment:

  1. I should confess that most of what I write is facetious. I am prone to exaggeration. Picture me with my right eyebrow raised, flailing my arms in dramatic abandon.

    So is Singapore really as dull as I say? Never, my friend! Never!