Walking Home

The Walkway

It was the third day of Chinese New Year. My papa had fallen sick from eating too much lohei, kueh bangkit and other goodies. On one of the coldest and wettest (and gloomiest) days in Singapore, I set off to buy the all-time favourite comfort food of Singaporeans - fish soup. To my pleasant surprise, there was no one-dollar "Chinese New Year" surcharge on my fish soup, which was the going-market rate. I chuckled quietly to myself as though I have snatched a lobang for myself! (How easy it is to condition human beings!) As most folks opt for the choice of zi-char and lo-hei in this festive season, I did not have to wait long for my food to be ready. As the hawker handed over the pipping hot fish soup, I felt the warmth radiating from the soup charged through me - akin to an electric current warming my entire being from head to toes.

With a renewed spring in my steps while avoiding the enticing signboards of the chinese dessert stores (begone, Temptress tau suan), I hurriedly made my way home thinking of my sick and hungry papa.

If there was one thing that Singaporeans were proud of, it was the sheltered walkway. I had brought a golf umbrella to the hawker centre to shelter myself against the incessant rain which has been falling for the past five days. Alas, I forgot that I am (a pampered Singaporean) sheltered from rain for the entire walk home.

As I opened my golf umbrella, I could hear the sneering laughter of the Singapore government officials at my feeble and useless attempt. The embarrassing act was quickly abandoned after a 10-m walk in the drizzling rain. I tried to regain my dignity by shaking water off my umbrella vigorously to the amusement of the passing ah-peks who have judged me silently from the sides.

It was at the walkway where I met her. With a glorious crown of curly white hair combed and neatly tucked behind her ears, she was rocking a floral green and white matching top and pants.