It’s sweet, it’s bitter; It’s longer than Twitter-
There are rants, there are sighs; There are lows, and yes some highs-
It’s nostalgic, it’s dreamy; It’s pretty damn funny-
Or so I have been told; Read along and you may be sold
We spend our bonuses, they count their daily wages We see unwanted calories, they see much needed meals We reside in luxury, they build in the heat We admire the green landscaping, they nourish the plants
We command an uber, they walk miles We Instagram every minute, they carry a family picture in torn wallets We sweat once a week on the treadmill, they sweat every second at work
Herman Miller chairs for us, Harness with minimal safety for them After work cocktails for us, soup kitchens for them Walk-in closets for our shoes, closet-sized rooms for them to sleep Warmth of family for us, pining for their families for them
Once in awhile step out of the privileged existence Look up at the shiny skyscraper and have a thought about who built it Next time you pass them, acknowledge with smile, or nod People of Singapore, be grateful for those who built your country
Offer gratitude for the invisible faces in our community Because without them nothing would be as it is now
We have a lot to give. We really do. For those who don't have
enough money, could have time, for those who don't have time, could have
resources, for those who don't have resources could have special skills. And
the ones who don't have money or time or resources or special skills, well,
they are the ones who we need to give to.
Living in a bubble that is Singapore, one tends to forget that there are
many unfortunate people who need our help. The expat life in Singapore
comprises of condos for luxurious lifestyle, cars despite COE prices, coffee
mornings with other expat mommies, credit card for branded handbags and yes, a
careless attitude towards others. Don't understand why we say Singaporeans
clamour after the 5 Cs (or perhaps it's not restricted to 5 anymore).
The "real" poverty
India is home to 63% of all slum dwellers in South Asia. Coming from
India poverty is stark, visible and makes to either look away or become immune
to. An estimated 3 million people are homeless in Europe. And this is a stat
from 2010. With the Euro crisis, this number is bound to go up. The UK has
one of the highest levels of homelessness in Europe with more than 4 people per
1,000 estimated to be homeless (as at 2004). Statistics from 2007 indicate
that 63% of homeless women in the UK have experienced domestic violence and 40%
have been sexually abused. Homeless people there live in subway stations,
on the streets and sometimes outside your favourite pub. It's all out there.
It's apparent.
And here is the shocking state of affairs in USA when it comes to wealth
distribution.
So its understandable that expats look at Singapore as a wealthy,
first world country where poverty does not exist, or its at least negligible.
There is no "real poverty" here we think. The only poor strata of
society are the immigrant workers and the foreign domestic helps. An average
Singaporean is well do to, has a roof over his head and a decent job.
The real situation
Let me tell you the story of Mr. Ang. Mr Ang and his wife, both in
their 40s, live in a four-room HDB flat with five children. Their ages range
from eight to 23 years old. Mr Ang works as a driver, earning $800 a month
(one-fourth the cost of any average designed bag I may add), while Mrs Ang is a
homemaker. Four of their children are visually-impaired. Two of the
oldest children attend daycare at the Singapore Association for the Visually
Handicapped. But paying the daycare fees is a constant struggle for Mr Ang.
While their fourth child is studying in polytechnic, the third and youngest
children have behavioural issues, and are unable to pursue further
education.
Meet Wan Zaleha. For the last six years, from Mondays to Saturdays,
this 72-year-old has served as a volunteer, making tea and coffee for
residents living in one-room apartments in the neighbourhood. She lives in
one of the one-room apartments - which average 30 sq.m and is not employed
and receives groceries worth S$70 from individual donors every month.
These above stories are true. And there are more families faced with
similar (or worse) situations in Singapore. While most Singaporeans are able to
benefit from Singapore’s success as a fast growing economy, there is a segment
that gets left behind, living from hand to mouth, struggling to stay afloat.
A small effort by R3
On Saturday my company volunteered for "Grocery on Wheels" a food
donation drive by NUSS. Bags of groceries were delivered to the less fortunate.
Goods were donated by NTUC FairPrice, Nestlé and other companies. There
were hundreds of volunteers packing and delivering these bags.
At the onset it did not feel like a big deal. The groceries came in a
lorry, while we went comfortably in a bus chartered by the NUSS. Seemed more
like a picnic than a charity drive.
And because even charities need some PR angle, there were volunteers
on Harleys making deliveries too!
However when we reached the HDB block we realised the task before us, and
we understood why NUSS needs volunteers. We had 198 bags to be delivered,
individually, to each house. And boy were the bags heavy! I skipped the gym
that evening as my arms and legs had enough exercise for a day.
We were advised that this is not just about delivering. We should engage
with the residents, many of them live alone or don't get out of the house much
due to old age. They like the human contact and we should spend some time
talking to them.
And so he head off. With my colleague expert navigation skills-HDB unit
numbers and floor are so confusing- we walked up and down stairs, or took
elevators that stank of pee. We delivered the bags to families with 6 kids
ranging from one to 12, to an old couple who took 10 minutes just to come to
the door because of their ill-health. We chatted at length with an ex-police
officer who lamented how once his sons got married, they have stopped looking
after him. He said he was glad he still had four daughters who he was confident
would not abandon him.
We met kids who opened the grocery bags with more enthusiasm than our
kids open their Christmas presents. They were grateful. They thanked us profusely.
And we left feeling wish we could do more.
This volunteering activity was also a great way to show our children about
life on the other side of the tracks. It left them with more appreciation with
all that they have.
Yes Singapore is a developed first world country. People by and large
are doing well, have homes, reasonable wages. And yes there are exceedingly rich people
here too- like everywhere in the world. Singapore is MUCH better off than most
countries in the world. The government has done a fantastic job. No doubt.
But no matter where you live, there will always be people who have less
than you. Always. You don't even have to look too far many times. You just have
to open your eyes ...and your heart.
Learn to live beyond yourself.
I urge all my expat friends to find a cause that you can relate to, and
give it your time. With kids at school and helpers at home, we surely have some
time to spare. Substitute one coffee morning with an hour at an orphanage. Or
one barbecue with feeding the needy. Or one shopping spree with a donation.
Give a little. And you will live a lot more. A happier healthier life
filled with one thing money can't buy- blessings.
In the last few days I found myself in different conversations where different friends were criticizing Singapore (the usual Indian expat pain points- boring, small, constricted, boring again, ‘nothing to do’, hot, humid, boring once again) and I found my mouth opening to say something when I quickly snapped it shut and bit by tongue for added measure.
OMG!!! I was actually going to defend Singapore!!! When did that happen?? How did it happen?? And for heaven’s sake why?? The only city I ever defend is Bombay- say anything bad about Bombay and do it at the risk of brutal physical harm. So why on earth was I now going stand up for Singapore?!!
I have lived in Singapore for more than a decade now. (And no, it’s still not home. The only city that will ever have the home title will be amchi Mumbai). Every time when there is a Singapore bashing session I effortlessly chime in with the same sound bites- boring, small, blah, blah.
I did not defend Singapore on any of those occasions in the last few days, but I felt a twinge of guilt later. Because to be completely honest this city (country? Island-state?) has given me much more than I have ever given it. Phew! I didn’t think I would ever admit that to myself- let alone publicly.
Singapore has been far kinder to me, than I have ever been to it.
It accepted me from day one when I pushed back.
It welcomed me with open arms, when I only dreamt of running away.
It smiled. I frowned.
It laughed for me (and not at me). And I cried.
It tendered to my wounds. I did not let them heal.
It cared. I simply couldn’t give a shit.
So today I would like to say my thanks to Singapore. Thanks most for all for your patience. For the calm. For the peace. For the courage.
Thanks for giving me the chance to meet people who I would have never met had I been in Bombay. Thanks for making some of these people my closest (and most wonderful) friends.
Thanks for making it so easy for me to have all the things I love so close to me. (For the uninformed, my rule of a good to city to live in is simple- idli-dosa and Hindi movies have to available within a 10 minute cab distance and should not cost a small fortune).
So thank you Singapore! And I will try and be a better friend to you. (I still cannot cause bodily harm to people who criticize you. There would just be way too many of them!) But I will try to show them what you are all about.
Having said that, people define cities by their own experiences in it. So Singapore, I can’t change people’s experiences about you. I can only say that my experiences have been nothing short of delightful. And I can hope you will give others who come here such lovely experiences too. And the people who leave, beautiful memories to remember you by.
If Bombay is the city that loves, Singapore is a city that accepts. And at this time, I need unconditional acceptance more than anything else. So thank you Singapore!
And here are my favorite places in Singapore:
• Favorite place (by far)- Tanjong Rhu Bay
• South Indian food- Murugans (idli, butter dosa and filter coffee are to die for)
• North Indian ‘Moghlai’ food- Shahi Maharani, Raffles City
• Mall- Takashimaya, Raffles City, Vivo City
• Coffee place- Spinellis, Heeren
• Brunch- P.S. Café Dempsey
• Drinks- Tapas Tree, Clarke Quay
• Desserts- P.S. Café again
• Bread- Cedele
Shit! These are all eating places. There really are limited things to do in Singapore! Or its just me, as the foodie that I am, my fav places in Bombay would be eating/drinking ones too. Moving on….
• Outdoor place- East Coast Park (where there is NO MacDonalds or KFC)
• Just for walks- Tanjong Rhu Bay (again) and Orchard Road (for retail therapy)
• Saving the best for the last: My balcony
So here’s signing off and wishing my very best to Singapore (I hope the IRs work out for you. Pls consider removing the S$100 casino entry fee for PRs)
“What I like most about India is that if you have dollars, everything is way cheaper." On comparison between India and Singapore _________________________________________________________________________________
Me: India is one of the oldest civilizations in the world Sanil: Is that why all the roads are broken?
Me: “I want to change my career. Do something different.”
Sanil: “Become an ice cream cooker!” Me (contemplating sending my resume to Ben and Jerry) __________________________________________________________________________________
“I want to grow up and be a normal person. Not like a rockstar or race car driver, just a normal person who goes to office.”
In India I am someone. In Singapore I am no one. In India I am defined by the innumerable relationships that I own (and which own me). I am someone’s daughter, someone’s (ex) daughter-in-law, someone’s sister, someone’s maasi, someone’s bua, and list goes on. In Singapore I am no one but Seema. Simple. No-fuss. Straightforward. Just Seema. Accept me like I am. Don’t like me? Well, I really couldn’t give a damn.
Here in Singapore, I don’t bear the responsibility of any relationship. I am not judged by any standards. And I am neither put up on a pedestal or fall from grace for seemingly inconsequential matters. I am simply, L’ll Ms. Anonymous Me.
I can wear my ugly cut shorts and 13 year old Tees and walk to Leisure Park Mall, do my grocer shopping leisurely (no pun intended), stop for a cuppa at Starbucks and take the shuttle bus back- all without being recognized by a single soul (except perhaps the shuttle bus driver).
In India I wear my ugly cut shorts and 13 year old Tees too (like I am right at this moment), but here it’s a transgression. My dad takes objection (not at length- since my weight loss it’s acceptable to wear shorts), but by the fact that they look ugly. My mum does not particularly favor them as it gives the impression I can’t afford expensive, nice-looking clothes. My darling niece is not pleased as they make me look far less pretty (especially as I aspire to compete as her favorite maasi and fail miserably- the shorts so don’t help). And many others for whom the length would most probably be an issue- but know me to well to ever mention it.
In India you carry the cross of every relationship. Each one comes with its own set of expectations and I seem to fall short on all counts. Not living up to them makes me “too arrogant” and “too independent”- when the latter became a bad thing is simply beyond me.
But in India there is TREMENDOUS LOVE. Every time I come here its like I am showered incessantly with so much love that it helps me tide the year to my next visit. But the love does come at the price of expectations. And even though most of them are silent ones, you know they are lingering there. May be if I were my own person in India things would be different, but right now I am just someone.
In Singapore I am no one. I get defined by no relationships- except Sanil’s mum.That’s the ONLY aspect where Singapore rules over India- here I can be L’ll Ms. Anonymous Me.
Since the day I arrived in India I had blogposts in my head (OK that sounds a tad bit crazy) but that’s what India does to me. At any given time there are minimum of 5 things vying for your attention.
Mom: “You want Chila for breakfast?” (No! I only eat cereals YUCK! for breakfast to keep my weight in check). Dad “What time do you need the driver?” MTV- Trailer of ‘Pa’ (Vidya and Abhi are looking fabulous together!). Bombay Times- Some Kareena-Kurban-backless controversy, generated by the Sena of course. And the phone ringing with my best friend asking about the plans for the evening (which in Bombay context means 8 pm). And yes, all this at the exact same time!
So naturally there is so much fodder for writing. Potential topics: “How it is impossible to maintain a diet when holidaying in India”. “The 10,000th controversy raised by Sena which involves women and clothes (or the lack thereof)”. “IST: Morning = 12 noon, Afternoon = 5 pm, Evening = 8 pm, Night = 11 pm; Late night = 2 am). There you go….
In India there is inspiration everywhere. In Singapore we lead very one-dimensional lives. You generally do one thing at a time- or maximum of 2 if you are Ms. Multitasking like me. In India, it’s a whole different ball game (actually in India it’s not a ball game at all, its cricket, and that too in the new 20-20 format).
Sounds (what non-Indians would refer to as “noise”) are also unique here. Door bells (every 10 minutes- no exaggeration). Phone rings (mobile and landline- really, how popular are my parents?! And why has no one in India discovered that you can have a “silent” ring tone. Yes! It’s actually an option! Your phone does not have to sing ‘Chiggy Wiggy’ in Kylie Minogue’s voice)”. Car honks (there should be a day a month where drivers should not be allowed to blare their card horns- it would be a Guinness record for self-restraint). Mom talking to the kaam waali bai, bargaining with the bhaji wala at the door step and giving her recipe for paneer makhni to her niece (yes at the same time). And finally, the TV at a volume level that NEEDS to be that high so it can be heard above the rest of the din. (or that’s what my dad tells my mom).
But life still happens amongst all this chaos. Things miraculously get done in this madness and people carry on with their everyday lives with remarkable ease. There is so much happening that every minute there is a new story unfolding. As I said there is inspiration 24x7 in India.
I think that’s the reason there is never dearth of movie scripts- India is the world's largest producer of films, producing close to a 1000 films annually.vs. Hollywood which release approximately 650). That’s why there is a thriving advertising industry here where TVCs are still a form of entertainment. India is also the 3rd largest country publishing English books after USA and UK.
There are stories everywhere you look. I am only trying to capture a handful of them in my short time here.
…are the ones who believe that the British Raj was probably one of the best things to happen to India. They have a white fixation, prefer fish and chips to “kanda bajiyas” and speak with a put-on American accent which they get after one visit to the passport office.
They find Bombay dirty, Chennai hot, Bangalore noisy and Delhi polluted- does not matter that they lived there all their lives and have been living outside India for last few years only.
They snub their noses at local trains, look down on rickshaws and always have at least 3 “horror stories” about traffic jams on Indian roads.
They celebrate Singapore’s NDP and the 4th of July with gusto that makes you wonder about their origins. Their Indian-ness seeps out only when celebrating festivals which made a resurgence post Karan Johar movies and Ekta Kapoor serials like karvachaut and navratri.
They discuss Indian politics (in a know-it-all tone) - but never vote.
Watch every Hindi movie (on pirated DVD that too) - but insist of speaking in English only when in India.
Dance to desi tunes at night clubs (really bad dance moves too)- but want to make their daughters learn ballet over kathak.
Ok don’t get me wrong- Bombay is dirty, Delhi is polluted, ballet for little girls is lovely and I have plenty traffic jam stories too. But is that all what India and Indians are about? Do we define ourselves with Bollywood (HATE that term) movies and corrupt politicians?
I don’t want to get all sentimental via clichés but a country that gave Gandhi, Mother Teresa and Narayan Murthy to the world, has a lot more to be proud of.
We are today because of what our nation made us. None of us could have done it on our own. And if we belonged to any other country, we would not be the kind of people we are. Never forget that. Just the way we owe our upbringing to our mothers, we also owe the same to our Motherland. So this Independence Day, remember your humble beginnings first and be proud of where you and India has reached today. Refrain from criticizing and find at least one good to say about India. And yes, wherever in the world you are, make your way to the Flag Hoisting Ceremony at the local consulate. It’s only once a year- find the time.
