National Day

National Day. Is it an excuse to do something out of the ordinary? Is it a loophole for irresponsible behaviour? Most of all, is it a day where surreal nationalistic politics and propaganda mask the hustle bustle of society, causing it to come to a grinding halt? Only to reassume its pathetic state after the tunes of “Home” by Kit Chan is over?

I’m not so sure.

Last night was a strange one, unlike any other. The Monash Singapore Ball was good. The food was not classy (but we’re Singaporeans) and the drinks were good (almost too good). The night was going perfectly well, and I had everything pretty much under control, until bang! I met her. Again… You see, for many months, we’ve deliberately avoided each other. But that’s when the real shit happens. She stopped coming to church (my church that is) and that uneasy feeling of longing was clamped down and shut up as best as we could. We decided that it would be a collaborative effort, because the intensity, the electricity, the chemistry – it became too hard to control.

To be fair, we had our good times. In short bursts. There was nothing permanent or stable about “us”. But mind you, the times we shared were always passionate and deliberate. I would label her as a perfect picture of what I hope my partner would be – intelligent, astute, and shrewd, with a mind that is always exploring, full of hope and wonder. She is beautiful, lithe, elegant and oriental. Not weak and feeble, but independent and sharp. She is Singaporean and says lah just the way I love. She doesn’t watch TV 24-7 (I find girls who know everything about TV series boring, socially deprived, entirely one-dimensional and quite honestly, stupid). Her inner beauty shines through. As I remember her sitting in LSCC, I recall her eyes drifting to meet mine, that feline look and the bolts of electricity it sent through me. I could never make a move. Not in church. Not so long as we had mutual friends, because then things would become complicated, and that is bad.

Last night it was 2006 all over again, packaged into one intense night. There was no way the ball room could have contained us. We left. Back to my place, and we talked and talked and talked, and I realised all over again how sexy intelligent women are, and how starved I have been over the past year. I understood why I never got down to doing research about breasts as promised, because I am not interested. I came to see how awesomely beautiful this creature in front of me was and how much I missed her.

As day broke, I was reminded that the fairy tale would soon be over. I made her breakfast and then we kissed hard and held each other tight, because we knew that National Day wouldn’t come again so fast, and it would be a long time before we resurfaced old passions.

For that, which otherwise might not have happened, happy 42nd birthday Singapore.