It’s kinda funny feeling going back to Singapore. I know I have to run about doing some business here and there, and it’s kinda sad to me, cos I still long to come home to. Singapore is where I call home,but home is no longer here.
You see, my dad had to sell off the house to pay off lots of debts and in thinking that it is worth it to migrate to Malaysia so he can start off a business or so. I know it was a gamble,which odds were against us, and mainly, I pity him, cos he had no money to pay for the wedding expenses for my sister. I was a useless bum who travel globally in search for education, knowledge and wealth, and never stop since. I can’t afford to help them,especially with my piling high of debts and dues. I was actually a defaulter and delinquent account. I was on bankrupt list. It’s THAT BAD. I was stupid enough to use my credit cards to pay for my flights , travel etc and for my studies and last I checked , I amassed tons of credit card debts, as much as $250,000.
As much as some of you asked, why I did not have a wedding reception in Singapore, well, honestly, it was too close to my sister’s wedding. Mine is always adhoc. My dear wife loved me that much that we only had a small reception in Kulim instead. My parents were broke that they objected to me marrying. Mainly cos they need their kids to support them too. I had to do it. Even such that my dad did not talk to me for the last few years after I left for UK and even after I got married. To the extent that I rebeled with the way he abuses us during my sister’s wedding, that I almost throw a fit. It was demeaning to me and humiliating to my wife who don’t deserve it. She really don’t deserve it. Yes, I rebelled more, and boycotted the main reception itself, that even my relatives know that I refuse to go, after what they did. To me, heck care what happens. I had my pride too, and I almost trashed the place with at that point of time, intent of killing him.
That is a real black spot to me, and though things are better now, I still have my ways.Call it justice to what he did.But I am sad that a parent have to sell everything to show off to others of their children wedding etc. For me, all I did was the most important in a marriage, the bliss of Wedlock. The Vows.
That is such a case that none of my relationships work out.Mainly cos of the culture of the Malays here in Singapore to spend extravagantly for the sake of ’saving face’.They forget that the essence of Islam is to forbid extravegance, cos it’s what the Devil does. We see so many divorces and marriages breaking up, causing so much misery to the poor innocent children. Why could they not spend the money on a home instead? The final bill for my sis’s wedding was about $30,000. And she married the cousin. Why spend so much when the Mahar or Mas Kahwin is only $100? Is that marriage just worth $100? At least I gave my wife $1000 as her wedding mahar and she still keep that $1000 bank note as a momento. Not of gold or silver and diamond, but of love and well, I love her so much, despite the shortcomings.
And life goes on, Singapore is where I still call home. Even when I have nowhere to call a home. Reminds me of life when I was in the army. I had a proper place to call home then, my barracks. The Medical Center was my home, and my friends, even the drivers were my buddies who I will lay my life for, for would they for me. We were brothers. We were friends. Though we could be enemies, we can’t kill our own countrymen.
At times like this, makes me wonder.Where do I call home? I don’t feel at home in England, cos of the Weather. I don’t call the US a home, cos I ain’t got one, I was an intern.Skyving and earning extra on the sides just to be broke.I can’t call Malaysia my home,cos I don’t have an identity card or something to say so.I do long to love my own identity. Yes, in Singapore I work like a robot, waking up before the sun rises, gone to work by dawn and return home after dusk. I was just a robot.
In the UK, I was just like a Bangla, an Illegal Immigrant who has to work scraps to survive, tolerating the discrimination and sleur of the racists.I barely survive, without any savings.
Now, I don’t know where I will be, for who I am. I am by name a Singaporean. I don’t have a home.