Of Family Feuds and Funerals

 Of Family Feuds and Funerals. 

Sometimes, an opportunity comes our way to make things right. To show grace, to forgive, and to heal. To put aside ideas of right or wrong, good or bad, and win or lose. To rebuild, repair, and restore. LWL’s passing was such an opportunity. Sadly, it’s not being recognised for what it is… a chance to end a family feud, restore relations, and reunite the nation. 

I’ve been reading comments online of folks arguing for LHL, and against LHY, and vice versa, and I can’t help thinking that it’s not particularly useful to polarise people and to imagine the best or the worst of them. All of life is about straddling that space between contradictions. We are all both good, and bad. How do we live with ourselves amidst these tensions? And how do we live with others, knowing full well that they, like us, are perfectly imperfect? Only with plenty of grace. 

In an ideal world, LHY would have returned for his sister’s funeral despite valid charges against him and whatever the consequences might be. Ideally, the house would be demolished, because, after all, it’s just a stone edifice, filled with a family’s memories, and now the cornerstone of an ongoing feud that has torn the family apart. It’s the cause of disunity, not just for the family, but for the nation. Division already exists beneath our nation’s superficial veneer, but surely a family feud revisited during a funeral shouldn’t add to fragile fault lines being further broadened. Unfortunately, it is adding to disunity. 

What’s the truth, who’s right, who should win? It sounds like a petty childhood squabble that will have no end unless the precious toy is removed. Take the house away, demolish it, and let’s carry on. It’s not really a loss, neither a hollow victory for anyone. It’s really just sanity prevailing. No need to feed egos, enable victimhood, and encourage division. Close the chapter, remove the spotlight, and retire gracefully from the arena of family feuds. It’s the best thing for the nation. If either party says they love Singapore, then they should stop tarnishing their family’s good name, and all of ours, and let the past go. 

Thanks for reading, 

Pav

AFP file photo of the house.

Obituary for a Frangipanni Tree

Obituary for a Frangipanni Tree (6th Oct 2022)

Woke up this morning and found a frangipanni had fallen across the pond. It was the last of 5 frangipannis planted around the pond in 2011, when the house was first built. I am sad to see it dead though I feel I did neglect it while it was alive. Wrote a little something while munching my toast. Fare thee well, frangipanni tree.

Obituary for a frangipanni tree:

Planted by the pond your roots protested

An excess of water that lingered in the soil.

You watched palms and ferns flourish while other frangipannis died, 

Did you know you were the last to survive? 

Today, you broke, unsupported by brittle branches that carried the dry rot stemming from dead roots, 

Spreading like a cancer through your skeletal frame. 

Yours was a life unheralded, a tree amongst other plants, a part of the backdrop of a green screen.

One of several, your uniqueness finally being your solitary survival over a decade while other frangipannis fell early.

Frangipannis do not like water, we knew that, hoping that somehow you’d survive. 

And you did, until today. 

And I am shocked that I cannot remember the colour of your flowers. There have been none for a long time now. 

And I am sad that you were dying all this time, and I did not know.

Thanks for reading,

Pav 

A memory from 18th Feb 2020

After 11 days of self imposed home quarantine and venturing around the neighbourhood for short walks, I decided to go to the beach at the East Coast this morning. Left in the dark, hoping to catch the dawn but missed part of it while huddling with others at Mac's waiting out a drizzle. Saw a man probably enroute to Bedok Jetty for morning fishing, groups of cyclists, taichi groupies, solo folks and grumpy older men with their equally grumpy wives. 

Looked up from my cup of insipid tea and saw a man staring at me. Looked away determined not to look a second time, in case he was staring at me again, but then found to my dismay, when I casually looked up, that he had vanished. Sigh. Oh well. Told myself to smile at everyone on my walk, be friendly! Wandered off and walked for almost 2 hours along the beach. 

My older three kids were born while we lived in an apartment across from the beach, and I revisited so many happy memories this morning. Various kids (I have so many!) learnt to cycle, rollerblade, skateboard, wakeboard and sail here.  In their early years, they enjoyed being carried about in our bike kiddy seats. We camped overnight on the beach, knowing that if it turned out to be a disaster we could get home easily. No disasters, just the best fun ever. Highlight was cooking instant noodles in Dad's army cookware over a bunsen burner. Best noodles ever! 

Saw the pond where we released our two terrapins (naughty us!) that had outgrown their aquarium. Saw the hawker centre at which many a meal was eaten and a tahpao bought. Saw aeroplanes approaching Changi Airport, and remembered how the kids loved spotting them and guessing carriers, and the joy at recognising SIA's tail, their loud screams of joy piercing the air. Walked on the sand and remembered the hours of happy digging and playing and chasing waves, and how, truly, the simplest of joys are free. 

The wind messed my hair and I remembered how we ran around here like wildebeests, freely enjoying the breeze, the sand, the sky and the sea. How the kids learnt to touch a mimosa leaf and watch it close. How they met strange dogs and embraced them with open arms. How we met ants of various sizes, along with prickly casuarina cones, and other things to avoid while running barefoot for hours. 

From our apartment, we had a view of the sea from every room, and the ships filled the horizon. Once, an American aircraft carrier obliterated the horizon altogether, it seemed so huge. Every New Year's Eve, at the stroke of midnight, every ship lets off a flare, and we would watch this from our apartment with a clear view of the ocean. Our very own "fireworks" show. We'd wait for the inevitable laggards who were slow, or hoarding the limelight for themselves, until it became obvious that there were no more flares left. One day, I heard a huge explosion, and a barge carrying kerosene had exploded. It was scary! Thankfully, no one died. 

I remembered life in our apartment, our first home, and how very happy we had been in those years with the kids running about the condo, our lovely neighbours, hours spent at the playground, and the BeyBlade competition I organised, as well as the "Campaign Against the Change of Condo Colour Scheme". We were successful in swaying the opinion of the other 479 households in the condo against changing the colour scheme of the exterior of our condo blocks from a very mild green and beige to a frightful pink and purple concoction. The kids rallied and distributed fliers to every household, and cheered when we won! Today, the colour scheme is shades of blue, but I no longer live there, so it's okay. 

Those were the best times of my life, when life was simpler, and everyday seemed magical. You don't need much to be truly happy. So grateful for all the good in my life, of which there seems to be plenty. I have been, and continue to be, so blessed. A walk down memory lane where one focuses on the good is so refreshing! I simply love the sea, the breeze, the open vistas and the whole feel of being on the verge of something larger than one's self. Here, today, I felt my past merge with my present, and I felt at peace. May you find your peace, too. 

(18th Feb 2020)

Thanks for reading, 

Pav

I Love the Ordinary

Captivated by the ordinary, partly because it’s so much a part of our shared human lives, but also because it grounds me to celebrate the everyday in every way. This moment, now, calls out to be lived in. Am I present, or absent, hunting down a better moment in time? Happiness must entail living in the now, to some extent. Here’s an ordinary poem. 

I Love the Ordinary 

The way my toes curl in the morning cold, 

The way the kettle’s boil gets loud and bold,

The way my fingers warm round my tea mug’s hold,

I love the ordinary. 

The way my washed laundry smells so very clean, 

The way my duvet folds over with a satiny sheen,

The way my tablecloth tells of spills it’s seen,

I love the ordinary. 

The way my floor gleams after a gentle scrub, 

The way my tables smell after a lemon pledge rub,

The way my kitchen looks all tidied up,

I love the ordinary. 

The smell of sourdough in the toaster shrinking, 

The aroma from a teabag in my white mug steaming, 

The firm butter on the table gently melting, 

I love the ordinary. 

The sound of water gushing over me, 

The feel of hot water cleansing all of me, 

The heat of water comforting weary me, 

I love the ordinary. 

A head on blast of chilly air, 

The push of people rushing everywhere,

A noisy train taking me somewhere,

I love the ordinary. 

In smiles exchanged that reach the eyes, 

In words spoken that try to be wise,

In hugs goodbye where friendship resides, 

I love the ordinary. 

In each moment of every single day,

Life happens, but where are we?

Absent as minutes pass, hours run away,

Hunting the extra-ordinary. 

Celebrate the laundry, the toast, the tea, the train,

The smiles, the words, the hugs, goodbye’s refrain. 

Ordinary moments when all of me is present all the way, 

Listening, sensing, truly seeing, 

The ordinary, imperfectly perfect day.

Pav 

12th Feb 2024

Thanks for reading!