Monthly Archives: May 2017

Why do you like DL, my sister asks.

I struggle for an answer, against a tsunami of images, sounds, smells, memories of cigarette smoke and an orange jacket, pacing feet, timelines, dates, emotions, gut drops, shivers, tingling fingers, head and heart aches.

It’s all so maddening, and infuriating not to be able to verbalise or rationalise this.

“It just feels inevitable.” That’s the best I can manage.

I just hope that I’ll be better at this gig.


Learning more Spanish from Valentina than I ever did from Dora the Explorer

As per her quarterly quota, once again my paternal grandmother asks me if I was seeing anyone.

She has been feeling under the weather, but her voice noticeably perks up when I tell her I am indeed seeing someone new.

Of course she asks me about him, and as usual asks if he was Henghwa. I tell her that like all my other boyfriends he isn’t Henghwa and that he is in fact Cantonese.

Is he working? What is his occupation?

He works in interior design in Hong Kong, I tell her in Mandarin.

In Hong Kong? Not in Singapore? 

No, Mamah. He’s actually a Hongkonger, born and bred.

There is a long pause on the other end of the line.

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Jogging behind a trio of Buddhist monks makes me feel like I’m in some training montage in a kungfu movie.

The Lord is testing me.

I mutter as a NSF jogs past me, shirtless, and a police officer with boyish good looks pulls a chair out for me and flashes a smile.

Oy, it’s been four days already hor…