Losing a Part of Me

Somehow this image of Cherian George (the ST journalist) on TV, telling the audience that where he was at now, which was under an expressway flyover (looked like PIE to me, hehe), was where his old house once stood, just kept playing in my head. It was an image that brought out sadness and a sense of resignation. For a country that prides itself to have catapulted from third world to first in 30 years, we have, in the process of economic advancement, sacrificed much of our heritage. Buildings, landmarks, language, culture...

放眼世界，心系祖国 was the slogan used not too long ago, to encourage our people towards globalisation, to go far beyond our shores to make our mark (i.e. make money), but to forge strong ties with our motherland. I have always agreed with hubby that patriotic ties towards one's country have to be forged through one's feelings towards the country, rooted by 人，景，物 (people, scenery/surroundings, tangible things). Except for the first (but even people come with an 'expiry date'), the things and surroundings in Singapore are always changing.

Today marks the day that I officially lose a part of me, my 景，物. It is the flat that I have lived for a good 26 years (and for my parents, 33 years) before I got married and got my own flat. The land where my parents' flat sits on was 'acquired' by the government two years back, i.e. en-bloc, so my parents have no choice but to move out of the flat where they have lived a good part of their lives and raised all their four children. All because this block of flat sits on prime land, and the land would most probably be used for some private housing project which will bring in the MONEY. For the sake of economic development, my fellow Singaporeans. Or else we will never be a step ahead of our neighbours...

I come from a humble, lower-middle class family. My precious flat was a humble 3-room flat, and it cost my parents $13,000 then, in 1975. My flat has always been overcrowded, for as long as I could remember. For the first 10 years of my life, the flat was occupied by my parents, my younger brother and I, my maternal grandmother, my uncle (mum's brother), and my cousin (a young lady who was taken in by my grandmother when she was very young). 7 people living in a 3-room flat, happily. :-) Then my uncle got married, and grandma and cousin moved in with him. At about the same time, my mum gave birth to my 2nd brother and youngest sister. 7-3+2=6.

We never had a sofa in the living room, not till 10 years later, I think. I remember the black-and-white TV set which had this set of sliding doors to protect the TV screen, and two huge speaker panels on either side of the screen. It was littered with stickers, I remembered. Stickers that my brother and I got from snacks we bought, like Kaka and Twisties. Hahahaha! We did have a huge dining table where the whole family gathers for makan, where my brother and I played games like 'house', 'library' under it, played table tennis on it (no joke), and where we did homework on.

I have never had the luxury of my own room... erm, do the maths and you will understand why. But we could always devise ways to mark out our 'territory', and maintain privacy (to the best of our ability!) whilst living under one roof. One bookshelf will be sub-divided amongst us -- ok I get the top 2 shelves, bro gets the other 2, the last one is for public usage. The same goes for our wardrobe, our cabinets, the reading table, etc.

There were hardly any secrets in the family... I mean, it was kind of hard to have secrets when there's just so much space between one another at any one time. So I could be on the phone embroiled in a heated quarrel with my friend/boyfriend, and the rest of the family would try to stay as quiet as possible, and try as hard as they can to pretend that they cannot hear what was being said. Hahahaha, those were the days.

People have always commented that my family is a really close-knit one. Well, if anything, space (the lack of it, to be exact) definitely plays an important role in making us close-knit! Wonderful memories of my childhood, my adolescence... would have loved to document more, like having the whole of my sec 4 class come over my humble abode for a song practice coz the church we were supposed to go to was out of bounds, and the nearest house with a piano was mine!?!?

Well, whatever it is, today is the last day I set my eyes on the dear old flat. The heart still aches, and it will continue to till the memories of it fade, together with the people who have once called it home.

Wretched,
A.