I choose to trust, than question
I choose to smile, than cry
though I will cry – just not in front of anyone
I choose to cook up a storm
I rather spend time next to you,
even as you busy yourself with that familiar frown for work
I prefer the harsh truth
I choose to travel and learn more about myself
I will not drink more than a third of my glass of water, while eating
I rather get things over and done with,
than wonder about the “what if?”
I choose to be the girl you know and love
I turn back and look at you because I want to see your joy as you see mine. I turn back to tell you, did you notice the brilliant blue skies? Are you feeling the scorching heat of the sun that deceives our skin, because there is also the unrelenting wind that blows our hair askew? I turn back and wish you could see all that I see. I want to turn back time just a little, just a bit for you.
“Uncle, one teh-c siu dai (lit. tea with evaporated milk, less sweet).”
“Uncle, chio leh (try to smile), she taking photo of you.”
Uncle only smiles after the cup of tea is prepared, clinking it onto the slightly wet saucer.
All the nooks and crannies I’m wandering into, around, and on top of; I am re-discovering home when I thought I knew what I could. The bittersweet knowledge that we are still (oh, still!) finding our way, amidst the anger, the quiet discomfort watching the vocal minority, listening to misinformed views distorting the bigger picture.
I leave you with this few lines from a Singaporean singer, and a Singaporean lyricist. Something I wish we all could know and feel stronger for.
我的愛 明明還在 轉身了才明白
該把幸福 找回來 而不是各自緬懷
In this country of eternal summer, the cakes stare through their cold windows and beckon to me to buy them. As a child with limited pocket money (think 50 cents), I’d just run my fingers across the condensation above the counter, look balefully at my mother and wish that I had more reason to buy cakes besides birthdays.