My night friend

And for many nights now, while lying in bed just before I fall asleep, I would start talking to this guy beside me. It is usually one-way, with me doing the talking, asking the questions, and then providing the answers. But more often than not, there are more questions than there're answers, which only begets more questions from me, like: "why aren't you answering my questions?!?" But he's a very quiet guy.

And last night, just before I fell asleep, this thought occurred to me. That the writing of my thesis is forcing me to confront all my physical, temperamental, and intellectual inadequacies - weaknesses, and flaws that have plagued my entire, entire life. That is, weaknesses and flaws that ought to have prevented me from climbing up (not that I've been very high up) the career ladder, the social scale, the food chain, so to speak. Yet, and yet, I have somehow wittingly or unwittingly squeezed through each gantry, bypassed the roadblocks, escaped the traps, and arrived at this point. This very gate where I would be let into the hallowed halls of academia. Or not. This very gate where I am confronted with all these flaws that I have to overcome, that I must, or else.

Such are the heavy thoughts that have accompanied me the past many nights, to bed, to sleep, and, perchance, to dream.

All while my quiet friend beside me keeps very quiet. So very quiet.

A quick hello and I'm still alive

They say the first year of candidature is the honeymoon period. You enjoy the novelty, the 'free time', the easy life of a student, reading all the great great books. Then comes the second year when the clock starts ticking, and you start feeling the panic. I'm in the middle of this second year now, and the ticking clock is getting very loud, and I'm getting very panicky indeed. And a range of feelings I've never in my life felt before, or to such an extent. Uncertainty, self-doubt, despair, depressed. And sometimes it's the thought of finally finishing that is keeping me going. The thought of all those who'd loved and supported me through the years. Those who helped me get to where I am now. And it's such thoughts that remind me not to give in, give way, and give up. And I am kept going especially by S., without whom, and it is to S. that I dedicate my thesis, my PhD. And no matter what, I must complete this dedication.

And they say the final year is the worst. O-o. :(

___

Anyway. For those who are sick of the propaganda churned out by the Straits Times everyday, do bookmark this fantastic website for your daily dose of critical news commentary: The Online Citizen. For those who're writing argumentative compositions or GP essays, this will be a useful resource. For those who do not want to remain a dumbed-down, propagandized robot, this will be an indispensable weapon. Spread the word far and wide. Of course, there's another reason why I'm plugging this website. But that shall be for another day.

And a quick hello to everyone reading this. Good luck for your coming exams, and send my love to one and all. I know... student life is hard. But it's also the best. : )

Love Singapore

Think back to your childhood. Your first recollection of yourself. Your first memories. It is always voices that you hear. Voices from somewhere, and no image in your mind. The background is fuzzy, in monochrome. But the voices are clear. Someone else's voice. Perhaps your mum, or dad, or grandma, an aunt. A loved one, calling out to little you, a warm cuddly greeting perhaps.

As you gradually remember your childhood, those voices begin to recede. The images sharpen in your mind. Fragments of your childhood appear, and colours reveal themselves: walking to kindergarten, your hair neatly combed, your schoolbag full. A teacher writing big, big letters on the chalkboard, you looking out of the window at the generous sunshine. Your classmates' laughter at recess time.

When you think about why you love Singapore, somehow, it is because Singapore is the place you grew up in. The little shoebox where your childhood memories are kept. The place where you first found happiness in its innocence, its gentleness, its purity.

Think about why you love Singapore, and it is not because of the gleaming skyscrapers in the CBD, as if they are all there is to your country. Not the cheesy slogans and tacky National Day songs. Not the National Day parade whose pomp and pagaentry you remember only for as long as the fireworks briefly light the sky. Not the pledge you recite daily, unthinkingly, reluctantly. Not the national anthem whose meaning you do not know, and can't be much bothered about anyway.

When you think about why you love Singapore, somehow, Singapore the country, and all that is artificial about it, disappear. In its stead are the people and the places that you love. You can't explain it. But you have slowly begun to learn, that's how love is. Singularly obstinate, beyond anyone's command. Just like those childhood voices that you hear.

This national day, try celebrating a little differently. Forget about the forced singing and the fake pledges, the flag that means nothing, the fireworks that do not last. Shallow gestures of patriotism that add little to the meaning of Singapore, to the meaning of love.

Instead, think about the moments when you were happy. Perhaps your first love. Your first kiss. That particular and utterly spectacular sunset after a long and tiring day. Revisit the places that you grew up in. The void deck where you played hide-and-seek. Your old primary school. The friends that you once made. Your childhood memories.

Then, think about how it is these - these familiar places and beloved faces, that make you love Singapore. That make you want to love Singapore. That tug at the ribbons in your heart and that make you want to remain in this place.

When you love Singapore this way, the state, the country, even the nation, begins to recede. When you love Singapore this way, Singapore becomes irrelevant. Becomes unimportant. And when you love Singapore this way, it is a truer, more sincere love for Singapore.