Connie

I have been feeling rather, do I dare say, old, since the beginning of the year. There are occasional times when I feel like this. And the one way I get over this mood is with a dose of self talk and reading inspirational stories. And there are as many good stories as there are bleak ones. I just need to look for the good ones.

I began 2011 with a fall on New Year’s day which set back the healing process that was taking place from the fall of 2008. Yes, that is another problem – everything takes much longer. So what if the body aches and you can’t move as fast as you used to. There are good stories: A study reported in May 31, 2010 in the New York Times shows that:

“Happiness May Come With Age”

A large Gallup poll has found that by almost any measure, people get happier as they get older, and researchers are not sure why.

“It could be that there are environmental changes,” said Arthur A. Stone, the lead author of a new study based on the survey, “or it could be psychological changes about the way we view the world, or it could even be biological — for example brain chemistry or endocrine changes.”

Then there is the remarkable story of the 99-year-old Toyo Shibata’s writing about love, dreams and hanging on to hope with her first anthology, titled “Don’t be Too Frustrated”. This is all the more surprising because she only picked up her pen at the age of 92.

Reuters reported that her collection of 42 poems, which include messages such as “Everyone is equally free to dream” and “Don’t try too hard,” has been the most popular book on the closely-watched Oricon charts for the last two weeks and was one of the top 10 sellers for 2010, according to Touhan, one of Japan’s biggest publishers.

“Although 98, I still fall in love. I do have dreams; one like riding on a cloud,” Shibata confesses in one poem with the title of “Secret.”

And then there is my star reading on 31 January 2011which predicted that “Chronologically, your youth may be unrepeatable, but the psychological youngster in you is permanently sustainable. It’s entirely a question of attitude. Find the right frame of mind and you won’t just feel vibrant and full of attractive energy, you’ll look it. It will shine out of your eyes. It will radiate from your every pore. It will turn your worry lines into laughter lines”.

Thank you Jonathan Cainer, Shibata and the study for reminding me that life is what you make of it, whatever ones age.

So I have started writing my book ( I have two more books planned) and I have gone shopping for a new wardrobe.

Remember the words of the Helen Reddy song?

I am woman, hear me roar
In numbers too big to ignore
And I know too much to go back an’ pretend
’cause I’ve heard it all before
And I’ve been down there on the floor
No one’s ever gonna keep me down again

The conclusion to draw from MM’s analysis is that children who have access to more resources do better than children with fewer resources. It is just that graduate fathers earn more and can afford resources such as additional tuition, domestic helpers who will see to the most mundane needs of their children and perhaps a drive for greater success financially and even a stay-home mum who can chauffeur their children around from tuition to tuition. Every parent would want their child to do better graduate or not. This motivation and the resources of wealth will add to the advantage children who have graduate fathers.

But the most important factor in the success of a child is a parent who is interested in the well-being of his child, who wants his child to do better than him, who wants his child to have the best opportunities to reach his potential and who values education as step towards a better future. Unfortunately if you are a struggling parent trying to meet the basic needs of the family your child will be disadvantaged over the child from more wealthier families. But wealth and a graduate father alone will not ensure the success of his child.

Other factors are far more important. Let me relate the story of a family I know well and have the greatest respect for. The parents are hawkers and work very hard and very long hours. The father had very little education and speaks only a dialect. But as parents they invested the little money they have on their children’s education. They were interested in their children and how they do in school, what they do and supported their children’s talents and interests with the little resources they had. Now their daughter is a trained teacher, who then went on to a degree in music from a top Australian university. She is a very talented pianist. The son took the polytechnic route to university mainly because he did not have the rich language environment that would have helped him to take a direct route to University. I recall that the parents subscribed to the Straits Times to help the children with their English. There are many parents, whatever their background, whose children succeed in spite of difficulties.

The more disturbing conclusion would be to relate the success or the failure of children to genetics. Please let us not go there.

Well I am back in Singapore, arriving in the middle of the night to feel the throbbing of humanity (5 mil people) breathing. Goodbye peace and quiet!

This is home. I wake up late on Saturday morning to the chanting and clanging of percussion of a Chinese funeral in the void deck below me and in the void deck of the next block was music blaring from a Malay wedding. Yep! I am definitely back home.

There is a strange reversal of noise levels from the different race groups. The Malay and Indian weddings are noisy affairs while the Chinese weddings are quiet and the Chinese funerals are noisy while the Malay and Indian funerals are quiet affairs.

So if there is going to be an Indian/Malay wedding then it is better to have a Chinese funeral. The noise of one will drown out the other!

It is great to be back in Singapore. Back to my own space. Back to the noise, to the crowds, to the smells and to the colours of a multitude of people.

It is a perfect way to spend the last day of the year. I am in Redgate, the holiday home of one of my siblings in Margaret River, W.A. I am sitting under an open veranda with an unlikely cathedral-like roof. Around me is silence, except for an occasional chirping of birds and the swishing of the wind through the hundreds of gum trees around the house. Beyond the tree-tops is a perfect blue sky.

Redgate Bush

If I listen hard enough I should be able to hear the crash of waves against the Redgate rocks.

Redgate Rocks

Later in the evening we will be heading for the Redgate Rocks to watch the sun go down the Indian Ocean . This gathering, to watch the sunset on the last day of the year on the Rocks, has become a tradition for those members of the family who spend the New Year in Margaret River.

The sun setting on 2010

The sun sets and we head back home to await the sun rising on 2011.

Be warned. This blog is going to be a ramble on my present concerns.

I arrived back in Singapore last night. The first thing I did was to walk down to my favourite Cafe ” Dino’s, for a cup of coffee and their curry puffs, not that these were not available in Delhi. They are. But how different: walking was easy; no potholes; no dirty puddles of water; no risking life and limb when crossing the road; public transport is easy, accessible and egalitarian. I felt fortunate in being able to enjoy the physical freedom that we have in Singapore and which is very easy to take for granted.

On the other hand the space for intellectual freedom and the freedom to challenge dominant values and ideas is India’s greatest strength and I think its gift to the world – look at all the Indians in Silicon Valley. But alas, here in Singapore we sacrifice these freedoms for what? For more and more food, more and bigger cars, for more upgrading, for longer hours of work for a glitzier Orchard Road, and so on and on. But for thinkers, for ideas, for researchers we have to bring in foreign talent!

To feel proud about being Singaporean, we need more than physical comforts and safety. We need to learn to think independently, creatively (and I mean everybody from the students at our independent and elite schools to the neighbourhood schools); we need to learn to challenge ideas; we need more theatre groups, more newspapers, more thinkers and intellectuals to challenge old ideas, offer new ideas, new arguments without threat of funding cuts and closure and rejection of PR status. Above all we need to feel that our concerns matter to policy makers; we need to know that our opinions matter. We certainly don’t want to be told that Singapore lacks talents and intellectuals (these comments are not intended to be anti-foreigner – I do enjoy the more cosmopolitan Singapore. They do add a new richness to life here).

I recall a taxi driver’s response to my comment ‘but we are all Singaporeans”. “No”, he said, Singapore belongs to Lee Kuan Yew and the PAP”.(his words) The PAP may have done great things for Singapore (and they have) but the biggest mistake they made was in blurring the lines between the notion of ‘nation’ and ‘nationhood’ with loyalty to the PAP and the institutions they control.

So I can understand the feelings of the a final-year aerospace engineering student Lim Zi Rui, 23,who stood up during the Nanyang Technological University Ministerial Forum and asked: “Did Senior Minister Goh Chok Tong know many young people no longer felt a sense of ownership in Singapore?
 When I was younger, I was very proud of being a Singaporean,’ Mr Lim said. ‘But that was about five, 10 years ago. Five years later, with all the changes in policies and the influx of foreign talent, I really don’t know what I’m defending any more.’

He said he was reflecting a sentiment held by many of his men in the SAF, who had to compete with foreigners for jobs. ‘I feel that there is a dilution of the Singapore spirit in youth… We don’t really feel comfortable in our country any more.’

Yes this loss of a sense of belonging is extremely serious for Singapore as a nation. But then the government does, on the whole, view Singapore as an economic entity (consider all the opening statements of PM in important national speeches. Don’t they sound like statements from the chairman of a board of a company during shareholders’ meetings?).

Then I don’t think anybody should be surprised that Singaporeans behave like shareholders and not like stakeholders.

‘It’s 5,000 years old’ an article in the Delhi magazine First City (Nov. 2010) by Dr. Devdutt Pattanaik, author of “An Illustrated Retelling of the Mahabharata” presents an interesting theory/explanation for why Indians were never interested in writing their history.

What mattered to Indians were ideas and not the details of events, he states.

This indifference to history has to do with the notion of ‘letting go’ which is central to Indian thought. So traditionally no tombs were built and the bodies of the deceased were cremated and the ashes thrown into the river’ for a quick journey to the land of the death, followed by a quick rebirth. “ The disdain or indifference for history stems from faith in rebirth”. What mattered is reflection; introspection. What mattered more were internal principals, not time-bound details.

In contrast the world view of other beliefs, whether it is Greek, Chinese or British was different; they believed in the one life and so this one life mattered and had to be recorded carefully. History was thus born. And so were tombs and monuments.

But the British belief in history forced Indians to construct history. With the British came chronology of events; of Indian historical periods.

My first gay march was appropriately in Delhi. It was the Delhi Supreme Court, after all, which decriminalised Article 377, decriminalising consensual adult same-sex sexual activity in private. The Parliament in Singapore turned down the appeal to do the same since it didn’t have the same degree of courage and conviction that the Delhi Supreme Court showed in resisting pressure from the fundamentalists/conservative forces. I think the consequences, the threat of violence were greater in India than it would have been in Singapore. But Singapore government lacked political will to take the right course of action.

I couldn’t have marched for any cause in Singapore where protesting and marching are illegal as well. And while homosexual acts, such as sodomy, are illegal in the privacy of Singapore bedrooms, rape of a wife is not and sodomy among heterosexuals is OK. You can see where this sort of thinking is coming from – certainly not the pragmatic approach to policies and governance that Singapore pride itself in.

In an essay on “ Religion in the Public space” the German philosopher, Jirgen Habermas argues that “In a secular state only those political decisions are taken to be legitimate as can be justified, in light of generally accessible reasons, vis-à-vis religious and non-religious citizens, and citizens of different religious confessions alike.

… This stringent demand can only be laid at the door of politicians, who within state institutions are subject to the obligation to remain neutral in the face of competing world views; in other words it can only be made of anyone who holds a public office or is a candidate for such.

Well done Delhi.

The Delhi Queer Pride Parade is the 3^rd one and is intended to be a celebration as well as a protest march: a celebration of what has been achieved so far and a protest against the continued marginalisation of minority groups.

The march was great fun.

It is a different Delhi that I am visiting than the one I saw 10 years ago. Streets are wider and cleaner. Expressways and the MRT have made life a little easier for commuters and especially for women who now have their own compartments in the train.

The December fog is still around: it trapped us on the runaway a good 30 mins before the captain received the go-ahead to move to the landing bay. Out of the airport the visibility was so poor that we got lost along the Delhi roads.

The neighbourhood, where I am staying, is full of activity. Street vendors come to the door, their carts filled – there is the vegetable man, the fruit man, the flower man, the coconut man, the broom man and even a carpet man. How very convenient for housewives!

But the most astonishing sight for me is this daily meeting of elderly women in the park facing the apartment, reading their religious text, singing and praying. They carry on oblivious to the noise and activity around them – the street vendors calling out, honking vehicles and curious onlookers like me, the barking dogs – nothing distracts them. But then this is India: the land of yoga, meditation and religions.

For the more prosaic the shopping, the sarees, the crafts, the colours, the food, the sights and sounds of India are all here, and as always captivating, bewildering and in your face.

The crowds, the dust, the errant drivers, the incessant honking of cars can be overwhelming and exhausting. But discount all these discomforts and you will find a Delhi rich in night life, in its intellectual activities, in the arts.

And, I am discovering that early winter is the best time to visit Delhi.

This picture shows the group of women on their daily prayer group meeting.

The other day I met a friend, Bee See who I had not seen for many years. Bee See rings me every few years, quite out of the blue, to chat. But this time we decided to meet and met at the Tanglin Food Court.

Bee  See is 80 years old and she was nothing like the 80 years I know and contrary to the frail stereotype that we often read about she was energetic  and immaculately put together, well-dressed, and beautifully made up. She told me that she meets a different group of people everyday, studies Mandarin, plays bridge, has visited most of the shopping Malls ( which is an achievement in itself ) and can tell you where to find the best roti paratha, minced pork noodles etc.

My friends tell me that I am role model for aging gracefully. They should meet Bee See.

My nephew Robert’s blog ( http://www.digestingashitsandwich.blogspot.com/)  have  inspired me to write something ‘political’ today..

We ( my family) have another example, an older example of grass root activism in my aunt who at the age of 60 or so marched against the communist government in Kerala who were threatening to nationalise private schools. She marched with thousands of other men and women and was jailed for her activism. When we in Singapore received news of her participation in the march we were impressed, surprised and aghast in equal measure – our aunt, a single mother since she lost her husband while still in her thirties and then living n a village in Kerala, was marching in protest against government policies!! How radical! how brave! how participatory! A great role model in taking risks when something important in ones life is affected by public policies.

Recently I was impressed by the grass root activism of a group of women who live in my block of flats. This is nothing compared to Roby’s long commitment to the values he believes in or my old aunt’s ( she died two years ago a few months after she turned 100 ) audacious participation in the march.

Grass root, especially independent ones are not encouraged in the Singapore political culture. So people often accept public policies without question. Their attitude is why bother! Let me tell you the story of what is possible when people do take the trouble to improve their situation.

A couple of years ago the town council decided to offer our block the option of upgrading which included a lift on every floor. Currently the lift only serves 4 floors in a building with 13 floors. This means that many residents have to use the staircase to reach the lift – a daunting challenge to older people and those with really aging and frail parents. The option was put to a vote and 75% votes were needed for the plan to go ahead. We lost by one vote and the town council refused to install the new lifts.

Undaunted my friends, Mabel, Doris and  Julie started their uphill task of lobbying their Member of Parliament. It took them two years of persistent lobbying for the town council to call for another round of votes. The three women went round the block, visited the residents, canvassed their support , ensuring that everybody cast their votes. The initial round was lost because one person failed to vote. This round of voting garnered 94% votes in favour of lift upgrading.