the gods must be crazy

I was on the MRT to work this morning, when I suddenly noticed the digital sign declaring ‘NS27 Marina Bay’, heard the sound system announced ‘City Hall’ next, and then the train pulled into Dhoby Ghaut station. For a moment I thought I had found myself in the Twilight Zone……

you learn something new every day

So these are what pretty-sounding parterres are!

a post-apocalyptic wasteland

Was at Lau Pa Sat one evening back in April. To my absolute horror, I found that their toilet was in a completely deplorable condition. Had been intending to provide the management with feedback, but kept putting it off. Today, I finally emailed them, and also sent a copy to the National Environment Agency:

Subject: Feedback on toilet in Lau Pa Sat

Dear Sir/Mdm

On 23 April 2015 just past 9 pm, I visited Lau Pa Sat for a late dinner. Before eating, I went to use the ladies, and what a sight greeted me! It was nothing short of a post-apocalyptic wasteland. Filthy to the point of disgrace. The stuff of nightmares. I did not take any photos (too nauseating), but I’m sure you can imagine.

Somehow, I had the feeling that this was not a once-off occurrence. I hope the management of Lau Pa Sat will take the cleanliness of the toilets seriously, for both the patrons and workers of this eating place. Thank you.

(my name)

your name may be a sign of the times

An article on Singaporean Chinese names. Incidentally, l did notice the ‘Korean Connection’ naming phenomenon mentioned, by reading advertisements (containing names of students), placed by local Chinese tuition schools!

Your name may be a sign of the times
By Larry Teo

PEOPLE’S names are markers of time, according to Chinese onomastician Ji Changhong, as certain names are peculiar to or popular in certain periods.

Therefore, if you were a writer spinning a tale about Singapore in the 1960s, you should know that Chinese names such as Han (meaning refined) or Yu (universe) were rare, if not non-existent, at that time.

To capture the atmosphere of the era, go for names such as Ah Fu (blessing) or Ah Fa (prosper) for males, and Ah Lian (lotus) or Ah Hua (flower) for females.

I know these are now names associated chiefly with Chinatown or Geylang, but they were everywhere in the past.

Continue reading ‘your name may be a sign of the times’

family history in a trove of scribbles

I like to scribble and have kept a journal for most of my life, so I really found this article very enjoyable!

Family history in a trove of scribbles
By Corrie Tan

Last year, the number of people living in my family home shrank by half.

My youngest sister is studying abroad and is often home for only three months of the year. I got married; my husband and I bought a small flat close by. Then my grandmother, who was in her 90s, died peacefully of old age. Our domestic helper left to work and care for another elderly person, a line of work she had come to enjoy.

My parents decided that it was the right time to downsize. As luck would have it, they found a cosy apartment just a short walk from my block and we began to pack our lives into boxes.

Continue reading ‘family history in a trove of scribbles’


Yesterday I was 27 and today I begin my 29th revolution around the sun. :)

where sky and water meet, where the waves grow sweet

I finished The Chronicles of Narnia (by CS Lewis) way back in primary school and enjoyed the series thoroughly. My favourite book out of the septology has always been The Voyage of the Dawn Treader – I felt that it was a great metaphor for a journey of self-discovery. In that book, Reepicheep, leader of the Talking Mice, reveals that a Dryad once sang a prophecy (which went on to affect his whole life) over his cradle:

Where sky and water meet,
Where the waves grow sweet,
Doubt not, Reepicheep,
To find all you seek,
There is the utter East.

Continue reading ‘where sky and water meet, where the waves grow sweet’

counting down the days

Five more days to go!!! :D

counting down the days

Ten more days to go!!! :O

time flies

Time flies like an arrow, fruit flies like a banana.

Half a year is done, and it’s July already……!

toothbrushes and toothpaste

My friend Gabriel posted this question on Facebook:

Why do I have 3 tubes of Colgate toothpaste in my toilet?

Responses I really liked:
– ‘Asexual reproduction’
– ‘Life will find a way. / No wait…’
– ‘There were 4 and someone took one?’
– ‘42

And this was mine: ‘there are more toothbrushes on our toothbrush rack than there are people at home. best thing is, some of my family members keep their brushes elsewhere… :/’ Curious, indeed!

you learn something new every day

Read this New York Times article yesterday and came across the word prurient for the very first time!

you are the poem

My friend John just posted this on Facebook:

are the poem
I never knew
how to write
and this life
is the story
I have always
to tell.

Tyler Knott Gregson

And so I discovered the amazing Tyler Knott Gregson. His poetry exudes the beauty of simplicity. I quite like this one:

Stare out with wonder
and feel the world staring back;
it sees your magic.

directing the final scene

“There’s a spot of light, Mr. Morris, when we’re born, and it’s a little bit of God,” he told him. “It grows as you become a good son, neighbor, husband, parent and friend and it grows more each time you do a good deed, each time you listen with an open heart.”

My father nodded. The white room had become a kind of tent of spiritual revival.

“I want you to imagine your whole life now, Mr. Morris,” the rabbi said as he took his hand. “And for each time you did something good, imagine it as a little glow you left behind that lights a dark road stretching back in time. It’s a long, long road of lights now, isn’t it?”

My father nodded again. Then he smiled. Through my tears I could see his spots of light, shining for all his acts of kindness — taking in strangers for dinner, sending postcards to lonely neighbors, doing free legal work, handing out old tennis rackets and sneakers to kids in municipal parks, showing respect for anyone he met, telling me over and over how proud of me he was. He wasn’t perfect, and he wasn’t the most responsible husband or father. But he did the best he could. His trail of lights was glowing pearly as it receded into the dark. When the rabbi got up to go, Dad startled us by clearing his throat.

“That was beautiful, Rabbi,” he said.

A touching article that moved me to tears – click here to read ‘Directing the Final Scene’.

you learn something new every day

Lucubrate is an archaic way of saying ‘write’ or ‘study’.

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