QCE52B NIE Lit 2018

Singapore you are not my country. Singapore you are not a country at all. You are surprising Singapore, statistics-starved Singapore, soulful Singapore of tourist brochures in Japanese and hourglass kebayas. You protest, but without picketing, without rioting, without Catherine Lim, but through your loudspeaker media, through the hypnotic eyeballs of your newscasters, and that weather woman who I swear is working voodoo on my teevee screen. Singapore, what are these lawsuits in my mailbox? There are so many sheaves, I should have tipped the postman. Singapore, I assert, you are not a country at all. Do not raise your voice against me, I am not afraid of your anthem although the lyrics are still bleeding from the bark of my sapless heart. Not because I sang them pigtailed pinnafored breakfasted chalkshoed in school But because I used to watch telly till they ran out of shows. Do not invite me to the podium and tell me to address you properly. I am allergic to microphone...

During Hari Raya she knocks on my conscience, I knock on her door and I give her cakes. She says she likes them and gives me Sweets with gelatine inside. I throw them away. Poor woman, doesn’t know how to make cakes. Her children eat Maggi after school every day. That's why the elder one is in Normal stream And the younger one can't spell her name. If I was her age I wouldn't be wearing shorts at home. No shame, she doesn't know how to hide her womanhood. When the children are naughty and I beat them I close the door: I hear she's a gossip. But she beats her children harder than I do What to do her children are like that. I once hear her scream she wanted to kill herself. These people never value their own lives. Other times I see her I smile and she smiles back And her children smile and call me auntie. But in our hands we hold with fists clenched tight The keys to our homes, each night we slam the bolt shut.

ah beng is so smart, already he can watch tv and know the whole story your kim cheong is also quite smart, what boy is he in the exam? this playground is not too bad, but I'm always so worried, car here and car there.          at exam time, it's worse because you know why?           kim cheong eats so little. give him some complan. my ah beng was like that, now he's different, if you give him anything he's sure to finish it all up.          sure, sure, cheong's father buys him          vitamins but he keeps it inside his mouth          & later gives it to the cat.          i scold like mad but what for?          if I don't see it, how can I scold? on saturday, tv showed a new type, special for children , why don't you call his father buy some? maybe they are better.   ...

We don't care: we like to speak it leh; When we end with lor, hor, lah, People say our English kana-sai Why do they care? Hard core kaypoh- Bo dai chi cho. It got rhythm- like when you say Who pass urine in the lift? Chau si! Aiyah; Chau Ah Lian; Chau Ah Beng; Chau Buaya; Chau Ah Kua; Chau Mamak; Chau kayu; Chau Goondu- Who else? It got reason- like when the secretary say You hold on arh, he's on another line; So you wait for him to finish- wah piang, talk So long, boey tahan, some more I kena Scolding from boss for wasting time. We say sorrysorrysorry to make sure we are: So pai say, we have to repeat two, three times; Then say excuse! When we overtake or cut in- Only once. Short cuts must be short and sweet, If sometimes we cannot cheat, so chia lat No lubang; so teruk. Kiasu cannot lose, Kiasi cannot die; machiam machiam words We also try. Proper English? So lecheh, So correct, so actsy for what? Wah lau, Already got your meaning before you finish...

Where the neighbourhood wives, After a morning at the wet market, Sit facing the breeze To trade snatches of gossip About leery shopkeepers, The local louts, (Like that fella who's always drilling his walls – Gives me migraine) And that mad woman Who throws things from her window. With careful put-downs they  Fashion boasts, about stubborn sons, Lazy daughters, who by some miracle or mistake Always score well in class. When words falter, Gestures take over: pursed lips, rolling eyes, Animated hands adorned by bangles of Gold, jade, steel, string. And children orbit around them Laugh without diction – Their games of tag a reassurance That there has been no hothousing  Of who is unclean, unwashed, Untouchable. When they break out Into some kindergarten song, One almost believes in a generation Cleansed of skin-deep suspicions,  And free from the superstitions of the tongue – And old folks sit like sages  To...

The operation was massive; designed to give new life to the old lady. We have cleaned out her arteries, removed detritus and slit, created a by-pass for the old blood. Now you can hardly tell her history. We have become so health-conscious the heart can sometimes be troublesome Commentary: A possible debate could be on whether Singapore is too "artificial" (ie. lacking character, "sterile" or too clean-cut).

I have sailed many waters, Skirted islands of fire, Contended with Circe Who loved the squeal of pigs; Passed Scylla and Charybdis To seven years with Calypso, Heaved in battle against the gods. Beneath it all I kept faith with Ithaca, travelled, Travelled and travelled, Suffering much, enjoying a little; Met strange people singing New myths; made myths myself. But this lion of the sea Salt-maned, scaly, wondrous of tail, Touched with power, insistent On this brief promontory... Puzzles. Nothing, nothing in my days Foreshadowed this Half-beast, half-fish, This powerful creature of land and sea. Peoples settled here, Brought to this island The bounty of these seas, Built towers topless as Ilium's. They make, they serve, They buy, they sell. Despite unequal ways, Together they mutate, Explore the edges of harmony, Search for a centre; Have changed their gods, Kept some memory of their race In prayer, laughter, the ...

(He's a drifter, always floating around her, has nowhere else to go. He wishes she would sing, not much, just the scales; or take some notice, give him the fish eye.) (Bounded by round walls she makes fish eyes and kissy lips at him, darts behind pebbles, swallows his charms hook, line and sinker) (He's bowled over. He would take her to the ocean, they could count the waves. There, in the submarine silence, they would share their deepest secrets. Dive for pearls like stars.) (But her love's since gone belly-up. His heart sinks like a fish. He drinks like a stone. Drowns those sorrows, stares emptily through glass.) (the reason, she said she wanted) (and he could not give) a life beyond the (bowl) QLRS Vol. 2 No. 2 Jan 2003

an unusual house this is dreams are here before you sleep tread softly into the three-storeyed gloom sit gently on the straits-born furniture imported from china speak quietly to the contemporary occupants they are not afraid of you waiting for you to go before they dislocate your intentions so what if this is your grandfather’s house his ghost does not live here anymore your family past is superannuated grime which increases with time otherwise nothing adds or subtracts the bricks and tiles until re-development which will greatly change this house-that-was dozens like it along the street the next and the next as well nothing much will be missed eyes not tradition tell you this Writing Singapore , p. 224