When my roomate told me about the throng at ICA, I really had to see to be able to experience for myself the
kiasu-ism Singaporeans are well known for and the
enthusiasm of becoming one from the Singaporean PR wanna-bes. It was clearly printed on the approval letters that the ICA building opens at
0800hr but by the time I got there (which was barely seven-thirty in the morning) the queue has already threatened to wrap around the ICA building. Oh yeah, embrace our enthusiasm, my fellow brothers and sisters of various nationalities!
Now please tell me why I was there joining those queue freaks coiling around the building? Correct, because I'm kiasu and I wanted to be an early bird and get the worm fast.
Apparently, great minds do think alike and there are so many people vying for the early bird status with me.
And oh goodness, the photo I took in school was rejected. Reason? I've got fringe in that photo. Looks like they have got this queer preference for nerds and geeks look-a-likes as their PRs, because they hate fringes and strictly demanded that we tuck our hair behind our ears. I tried to act as jolly as before when my picture was taken, and when I saw the outcome, thinking that IT would stay with me and be MY identification and accompany me for the rest of my days in Singapore, oh boy, I can't breathe now.
Dear ICA, thank you for showing me how stunned/silly/geeky/nerdy/ugly I can look by a mere photoshoot. I know more about myself now.
A good thing is, I can now look for a job without work permit legitimately. Well, at least something to nullify the impact that IC photo had on me.
I know I used to be a pro-family supporter. I know I used to think that family is the smallest fundamental yet integral unit in maintaining the integrity of the society, of the nation. (No, I'm not reciting some propaganda for raising birth rates, if that's what your're thinking of) But today, it suddenly dawned on me how those women who are reluctant to have kids think, for I think the same way too.
If you regret doing a certain deed, most of the time there's always a turning back, no matter how costly it may appear. There's
always a turning back. But not when you have children. Once they are delivered, they are stuck with you for at least fifteen twenty years! Imagine, should the kids turn out rebellious or naughty or disappointing, you can't simply turn back time and put them back inside your womb! Going through the nine months of pregnancy and the pain of childbearing isn't a big deal, but disciplining them is, because it determines the making of the kids, and it's going to determine their life. Not anything anyone would wanna mess up with, right?
While I was waiting for them to return my passport (I shall not lament about how boring the wait was) there were a couple of little kids around with their parents. Oh goodness, and I began to wonder, if I was as noisy and as misbehaving as them when I was their age. Not that I could remember, of course, but I wouldn't be surprised if my dad tells me I was. Kids are kids, and at that age they barely take notice of anything around them (despite claims that they are at the most curious stage). That makes the task of a parent even more herculean. Other than pacifying your whimpering child, you still have to endure the irritated stares flying in from all directions when your child is, ahem, ill-behaving.
Gosh, and I begin to think I've been such a good child. At least I have situation awareness and am aware of the 'should's and the 'should-not's. At least, at least, I don't bring unnecessary worries home. And for this, I think I owe it to my grandmother, my mom, and my dad. As well as all of you who contributed to my character moulding, and all of you who helped me find and define myself. I owe it to you all for what I am today.
Because raising a kid is not easy, I salute you, parents, and all the efforts you put in for your children.
