Picture post - In remembrance

[Had wanted to complete these 3 posts last week, but finally got to do them only now. It's time to move on.]

(I) 27 March, my time with him
I took a screenshot of my phone at Cityhall MRT, to record the start time of my queue

 

 

The selfie that I took which I whatsapp to WS, to let her know that I had reached and had started my (.. what's an appropriate word?)

It was a challenge to hold an umbrella in one hand and to take pictures with the other.  Most of the pic didn't turn out nice.  Here's one, at 4pm, when I'm already physically tired.  But this was where I started to sense that I'm getting nearer.

At the security check point outside the parliament house, tribute cards were handed out to those who wanted to drop a line.

 

The flag at half mask.  So solemn and yet so beautiful against the bright blue sky..

 

(II) 27 - 28 Mar, TYP CC tribute centre

During the weekend before the funeral on Sunday, I went to TPY CC tribute centre 3 times.  The first was with WS to drop her tribute card.  The second was Saturday afternoon, to drop the tribute card Lynn made and I wrote.  I had wanted to go with WS and gang on Sat night, but because Mabel and Matthew were at my home, so I took the opportunity to bring them to pay tribute (as they have not).

 

This card will hold special memory for me.  When I started writing, as usual I was at a loss as to what to write.  Unlike writing a blog which I can use "backspace", I can't afford to write wrongly on a handwritten card.  However, I told myself that I do not need to pre-write on a rough paper.  I told myself to just pen down what comes to my mind.  And out came my uncensored thoughts and feelings..

 

After I finished, I was quite embarrassed at what was written.  I noticed that the pic below can be enlarged to read what was written, so I had wanted not to post it.  Then I brought Mabel and the kids to my aunt's place.  There, my aunt read my card out aloud.  After she read it, I felt a sense of relief.  I came to embrace them as my most sincere and genuine parting words to him.     

(Note that all typos were corrected after these pictures were taken) 

 

All these cards, notes and flowers, were the citizens' wishes that ours thoughts be with him. 

The kids touring the tribute centre.  Doing my part for the education of the next generation.

I also brought the kids to grandma's house for them to contribute to the tribute T shirt.   

 

The end product 

That night, grandaunt was at grandma's house.  11 of us went to the tribute centre.  Grandaunt placed the T shirt on the stage.  

  

 

(III) 29 Mar
It's finally day 7, the day of the funeral.  It was our last chance to say goodbye.  Beyond this day, life needs to and will go back to normal. 

Despite being at parliament house, despite visiting the tribute centre 3 times, I wanted to be on the streets to bid him goodbye.  It started raining in mid morning.  A downpour followed, to accompany the nation in sending off their greatest man on his final journey.

 

 

 

 

In remembrance - my fav tributes

There were many great tributes and eulogies of Mr. Lee shared in social media.  It was very assuring when our countrymen showcase such unity.  The love we had for him is unpretentious.  The sense of gratitude that we exhibited was praise worthy.  Here are my 2 favourites. 

http://news.asiaone.com/news/singapore/stefanie-sun-lky-my-loved-ones-are-testimonials-his-legacy?page=0%252C1

Stefanie Sun on LKY: My loved ones are testimonials of his legacy

 

I am a product of the late 1970s. At the edge of Gen X, not quite Gen Y.

Those in my generation have parents who are part of the "grateful old" - a term I coined not to offend, but in recognition of the fact that they had witnessed the transition from what was to what is under the rule of the PAP.

 

But my peers and I grew up in a different era. We read English literature and watched American sitcoms. For us, leaders are not idolised, change is openly embraced and alternative opinions are often taken to be "cool" and to be a sign that one has personality.

As we entered the workforce, we heard phrases such as "Lee dynasty" and "false democracy".

Suddenly, it was deemed intellectual for one to have another opinion about the man behind the Singapore Story.

Human rights and freedom of the press were pressing issues of the day for my generation - not wealth or capitalism. Mr Nelson Mandela won universal reverence, as did Ms Aung San Suu Kyi. What about Mr Lee Kuan Yew?

In the midst of this, I remembered my father's advice, that I should always strive to have a mind of my own.

I believed it took special insight, otherwise known as wisdom, that comes only with time, to pass judgments or form opinions. More so on a man. I remained circumspect then.

Today, I do not see myself as a direct result of Mr Lee's exceptional accomplishments. I do, however, look to the people whom I love the most as living testimonials of his legacy.

My mother once lived in what was effectively an illegal opium den, but later moved into a beautiful HUDC apartment by working long hours and walking home to save on 25-cent bus trips.

My father washed dishes to pay for his doctoral studies, but later could afford to take us on holidays to Malaysia and, eventually, New Zealand.

Eventually, my son will have a shot at making it to the best university in Asia.

He will be able to afford an HDB flat on his own and will enjoy beautiful greenery and waterways wherever he chooses to work or live in Singapore.

He will not have to worry constantly about air pollution, clean water and two-hour-long traffic jams. And he will be secure in the knowledge that hard work, good ethics and a good education will get him somewhere.

Perhaps these have come to be taken as basic expectations of many of my fellow Singaporeans. But these are needs that I have decided are important to me and my loved ones, now and for the future.

I remember vividly my meetings with Mr Lee. Some were formal and austere, rather quiet and awkward - or at least in my imagination. But there were also fleeting moments of intimate friendliness and genuine warmth.

It was hard to not be in awe of this man. I remember thinking to myself: This must be what it feels like to be a fan.

I remember one incident when we were to be photographed together. As I kept a respectful distance, he impatiently asked me to move closer to him.

Another time, he was in good spirits and asked me jovially who was the lucky man whom I was married to.

I like a smiling Harry. (This is how I address him - a rather rude way, I know, to speak to the founding father of Singapore, and therefore, I do it only in private.)

It felt like a very precious moment for me.

I remember singing his wife's favourite song, Que Sera Sera, at the Business China Awards in 2011, not long after her demise. (Senior Minister of State) Josephine Teo later told me in private that she saw tears in his eyes. That was probably one of my proudest moments as a singer.

In remembrance - my fav tributes

There were many great tributes and eulogies of Mr. Lee shared in social media.  It was very assuring when our countrymen showcase such unity.  The love we had for him is unpretentious.  The sense of gratitude that we exhibited was praise worthy.  Here are my 2 favourites.

http://www.businesstimes.com.sg/opinion/lee-kuan-yew-dies/by-gum-the-west-is-wrong-about-Singapore

28 Mar5:50 AM

Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose
- Me & Bobby McGee, Janis Joplin*
 
IT must be nice to be Western and superior. It must be nice to judge from afar a grieving and poorly understood nation that is often confused with China. As Singapore came to terms this week with the loss of a titan, the country also came under scrutiny, a great deal of which was admiring in a back-handed way.

After Lee Kuan Yew died, The Guardian newspaper devoted an entire article to his policy on chewing gum. Decades of phenomenal GDP growth, the lowest crime rate in the region and top-notch healthcare, and Westerners are still talking about the friggin' chewing gum. This is like being complimented on your English.

The day Mr Lee's body was moved from the Istana to Parliament House, a wire agency article concluded by saying that the proceedings felt "almost too well organised" to some Singaporeans. This is like being told your English sounds - almost - too polished.
And this week, a Telegraph piece called Singapore "proud and prosperous", but could not resist throwing in "somewhat antiseptic". This almost made me regret learning English.
These articles share a churlish and tired subtext, that Singapore is somehow less of a country because it lacks some kind of personality that foreigners expect this part of the world to have.
The Western lexicon for Asia is a funny thing, and I have a real estate agent's relationship with it. When a house is advertised as having "charm", it means that its toilet doesn't work. When a country in this region is lauded for its "charm", it usually means that its people have a touch-and-go relationship with indoor plumbing.

"Quaint" means paddy fields where white-collar jobs should be. "Plenty of character" means the roads are not paved and you get diarrhoea from the ice cubes.

If this is what "charm" is, Singapore does not need it. And if it is handwoven baskets and barefoot children you want to see, go to another country that was not farsighted nor fortunate enough to avoid being charming.

For a long time, Singapore has been denied the gloss treatment other cosmopolitan cities get. Fifth Avenue is worshipped as a glamorous shrine to shopping, but Orchard Road is frequently portrayed as soulless. When outsiders report on Singapore, words like "gleaming" and "spotless" are used as though they were epithets.

Once in New York City, thanks to my dithering, my husband took too long to order a sandwich at Katz's Deli and got snapped at by one of the legendarily ornery servers. "This is Noo Yawk," the server said, as if that explained everything, and it did.

Likewise, this is Singapore. Everyone is in a hurry and they will hold pre-briefings for briefings, a post-briefing after and a break for a cost-benefit analysis. This is Singapore, this is what made it great. This is also why I became a citizen of this country - because I got tired of "charm".

Besides, if anyone has the right to complain about Singapore, it is the Singaporeans. This right, they have exercised as though it were the Second Amendment and they were Americans. According to Mr Lee, the Singaporean is a "champion grumbler". He said this in 1977, so citizens have been practising for at least 38 years.

These days, the complaining is the loudest it has ever been, and some of it doesn't even make sense. Mr Lee's passing has unearthed old chestnuts about the stifling of creativity and freedoms. This grousing was understandable 15 years ago, but who is stopping you from being creative now?

For how long do you intend to blame the spectre of a man before taking responsibility for the limitations of your own mind? What books have you been unable to gain access to, what TV shows have you been unable to BitTorrent and what poorly informed, anonymous comments on the Internet have you been unable to write?

If any party is censorious and forbidding, it is the society we have allowed ourselves to become, one that drives people into hiding in Perth when they've done something we find unacceptable.
Today, the prevailing attitude is miles away from Mr Lee's hard-driving, survivalist one. Now, people want to trade a few percentage points of GDP growth for the balance of work and life, as though work were not part of life. They want a softer approach to this idea of competition or betterment, a more consensual form of governance.

What the people want, the people will eventually get - that is both the beauty and the horror of democracy.

And such has been the earlier success of Singapore that its people have the middle-class wherewithal to demand change, and the government has the resources to provide it.
Like many other migrants, I came here to escape corruption, injustice and water that came out of taps brown in colour. I came here because I understood this to be a place that rewarded industry and ability while tolerating - if not welcoming - extreme dorkiness.

I've had the luxury of being able to mind my own business, largely because the government had minded everyone's. This is not for everyone, I'm sure, and as Singaporeans clamour for more self-determination, they will get it, if only because tempora mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis.

I have my reservations about what this country will become, but as for how it came to be, my appreciation is unequivocal, without qualification and unreserved. Thank you, Mr Lee, for Singapore. There was nothing more you could have done.

• This piece originally appeared on Miss Ann Thrope, a blog on The Business Times website. For more, visit btd.sg/missannthrope

This post is dedicated to my friend Surin Kwek.

http://www.straitstimes.com/news/singapore/more-singapore-stories/story/1972-speech-mr-lee-kuan-yew-made-about-growing-old-and-d

永别

Very close to exactly a week ago, on a Monday morning, our first Prime Minister, Mr. Lee Kuan Yew, passed away at the age of 91.

It had been an extremely emotional week for the whole nation.  People from all walks of life, leaders and famous personalities from other countries, paid their tribute to Mr. Lee.  Every single day in the week, people in our country got to know more about Mr. Lee from the documentaries about him aired on TV.  I believe a lot of people couldn't, or wouldn't, stop checking their mobile for the latest article or tribute about Mr. Lee on social medias.  And I think, it was due to grieve.  It was because we couldn't bear to let him go.

________________________


And I never knew that I loved him so much.

When the news broke on Monday morning, it was long anticipated, it didn't come as a surprise, so it didn't hit hard.  But an immerse sadness swept, very gently, over me.  On the journey to work, I wondered if every driver on the road along side me were listening to the same broadcast which was on every single radio stations.  I wondered if they were all feeling the same numbing sadness that I felt.  At 8, the whole nation hear and see our PM announced that "the first of our founding fathers is no more..

.. At the end of the day, what have I got? A successful Singapore.  What have I given up?  My life.

I am grieved beyond words.."

I knew immediately that I want to pay my last respect at the Parliament house , and that I will only be able to do so on that week's Friday afternoon, because of a very important meeting on Friday morning that I will be busy preparing for during the week.

As the week went by, day after day there were many developments.  People around me, including myself, were frequently on social medias, discussing about the life and politics of Mr. Lee, and also making arrangement and sharing tips on going to Parliament house to pay respect.  Right from the first day, long and messy queues formed, as expected.

Almost every night, I went home late due to work.  Despite the lateness, I still watched some of the documentaries.  I never like documentaries, and I have never been too interested in knowing more about LKY.  This past week was different.  As I sat through the late airing, feeling tired, feeling drained, I also felt engrossed and awed.  But on top of all these, there was a thin layer of sadness.. I didn't want the show to end.

______________________


Friday morning came.  I packed an extra handbag, that contains a bottle of water, an umbrella, a pair of socks, and most importantly a pair of walking shoes.

I drove to Tanjong Pagar, our regional office, for the big presentation.

At 1215, I was the last to leave the conference room.

I didn't expect it at all, wasn't prepared for it at all.  It was a sudden onset of grief, of lost.  Suddenly, the feelings that I must have deliberately contained in a corner came flooding over.  I had to control my emotions, so that I do not start crying at the lift lobby.  I was scared and utterly disappointed that I may not be able to join the queue, as the public was discouraged to join in the swelling queue.

I called Wee San on the phone, so that I could talk to someone.  After composing myself, I got on with my plan.

The first part of my journey, driving back to TPY and then taking the MRT to Cityhall, was smooth.  I reached Cityhall MRT at 125pm, and reached the Padang at about 140pm.  When I settled down at the Padang (we were told to sit down as "there is still a long way ahead"),  I started to Whatsapp WS.  She was worried for me that I was planning to do a 8-hours-queue all alone.  She didn't know that I went ahead after our conversation earlier on, so she Whatsapp me to encourage and to console me that it's ok not to go Parliament house.

With her accompaniment via Whatsapp, I went in the queue, with many fellow Singaporeans there for the same purpose, from Padang, to the F1 stand, then u turn back towards Padang, along the river all the way to Elizabeth walk, reaching Victoria Concert Hall by 4pm.  By then, 2 and a half hours of standing walking in the blazing afternoon sun,  the pain in my back had already set in.  All around me, people were starting to exhibit signs of strain.

Here, we were told that we only had another 1.5 hours to go.  The crowd cheered.  Everyone in this crowd came braced for an 8 hours queue.  We were relived that the official timing was grossly overstated.  And we had all over estimated our own ability and endurance power.

Still on Whatsapp with Wee San, I sent her many photos that I took along the way.   I was so excited when I reached the security check point that i sent Wee San the message "I made it!"

Here, we were each given a card to pen down our messages to Mr. Lee.   I didn't come prepared.  I did not know what to write.  It was on this card, that I told him, and myself, that I only realise now that I loved him so much.  

____________________


Soon, I reached the outside perimeter of Parliament House.  The building looked unfamiliar to me; I don't believe I had ever been near this building.

Soon, I reached it's gate entrance.  The Singapore flag, flown at half mask, actually looked very beautiful against the bright blue skies.

Finally I was about 10 meters from the building's entrance.  At this point some VIPs arrived.  While the curious crowd around me craned their necks to watch, I could't be bothered.

Just before I entered the building, I sent a message to WS that "I am in".  After being in the sun for more than 3 hours, I immediately sent her another message that says "Aircon!".  She understood perfectly, because she was there 2 days ago.

WS was excited, because she was watching the live streaming.   She kept asking my position and progress.  I moved along with the crowd, following the instruction of the guards.

__________________


All of a sudden, I saw it.  All of a sudden, I was a few meters away from it.  But I at the back of the crowd.  I can see the coffin now and then, as the crowd in front of me moved along.   I was shocked.   I didn't expect to reach his resting place so soon after entering the building.

Seconds later, I moved steadily to the front of the crowd.  It was an orderly crowd, and took me only awhile to reach the front, at the foot of his coffin.  I looked at the coffin, it looked so small for the Mr. Lee that I thought I knew.  That's it.  There, in the covered coffin 2 meters from me, was the man, whom I, and hundreds of thousands of other, came to pay respect to.  Came to say thank you to.  Came to say goodbye to.

I don't remember what went through my mind, what I "said" to him, when I was there, at the foot of his coffin.  Then I did what I came for.  I took 3 bows, took in as much as I could with my eyes, as I started to move along, from the foot to the front of his coffin.  For a moment, I finally registered that at the same time that I was paying my last respect to Mr. Lee,   PM Lee HL was near the coffin with a VIP.  I couldn't care less, because I was there for the late Mr. Lee.  My heart and my mind, there and then, had only Mr. Lee KY.

As I moved further and further away, before reaching the exit, I finally saw the excited message from WS that says "are you out already?  I saw you on the live stream!"  But I couldn't feel the excitement, I didn't feel any overwhelming grief.  In my otherwise blank mind, there was only one thought.  And I penned it in my message to her

"It's over.  My 10 seconds with him 2 meters from me"


_______________________



That same day, Lynn made a card and some flowers for Mr. Lee (as requested by me).  They were beautiful.   I only pen my message to him on Saturday afternoon.  Again, I started off with feeling not sure and not prepared to write.  Eventually, the words came.  They were not fanciful poems, nor witty articles, nor touching tributes.  They were, in plain English and broken Chinese, a single way conversation with him.  Simply put, I miss him.

Dear Mr. Lee, today I saw on the newspaper, the final words that I want to say to you.
～Mr. Lee, 永别了。

Sharing a (or part of a) poem; see last few lines of this article.

Quotes for 23 March 2015

I was looking through internet for suitable quotes for today.  Here are a few for sharing:


“The qualities of a great man are vision, integrity, courage, understanding, the power of articulation, and profundity of character.”
―Dwight D. Eisenhower


"人生应该如蜡烛一样，从顶燃到底，一直都是光明的"
 —— 萧楚女