City of Small Blessings
There are new buildings, grand renovations, new and plentiful blessings that one should be grateful for. But what used to be, was something more even if they were fewer, more modest. Those were things we worked for, earned, made from little or nothing.
Despite having resided in Singapore since birth, I struggle sometimes to recognise the country I live in. This isn't the Singapore I remember as a child. This must be the tragedy of living in a place too small for the past to have a place, growing too fast for personal histories to be celebrated and remembered. What are the stories of a bygone era in which my grandparents lived? I never found out before they departed, for which I am worse off, for how do we know where we are going if we do not understand where we come from?
What will become of the personal spaces that I think of as home? The iconic Merlion or CBD skyline may come to mind when we think of Singapore, but our own image of home is an individualistic memory - our neighbourhood, a flat lived in as a child, or even an aunt's house we went to after school. The preservation of national heritage sites thus does little to compensate for the sense of personal loss felt with redevelopment, and one should not be surprised at the lack of rootedness amongst Singaporeans.
There will be those who grow richer, and those who enjoy the comforts of air-conditioning, clean and safe streets, and drinkable water from the taps. But for others, these blessings are too meager for the price that they must pay in toil, in freedom and the loss of something that once made them happy. These people will leave this city of small blessings.
- Simon Tay, City of Small Blessings
Edit: I guess this makes me sound intent on emigrating elsewhere, but in truth it reflects a conflict between 2 sentiments - one of reluctance to leave a place where I know so many, and which has profoundly shaped my views and beliefs, and another of dismay at the reality of progress.
Despite having resided in Singapore since birth, I struggle sometimes to recognise the country I live in. This isn't the Singapore I remember as a child. This must be the tragedy of living in a place too small for the past to have a place, growing too fast for personal histories to be celebrated and remembered. What are the stories of a bygone era in which my grandparents lived? I never found out before they departed, for which I am worse off, for how do we know where we are going if we do not understand where we come from?
What will become of the personal spaces that I think of as home? The iconic Merlion or CBD skyline may come to mind when we think of Singapore, but our own image of home is an individualistic memory - our neighbourhood, a flat lived in as a child, or even an aunt's house we went to after school. The preservation of national heritage sites thus does little to compensate for the sense of personal loss felt with redevelopment, and one should not be surprised at the lack of rootedness amongst Singaporeans.
There will be those who grow richer, and those who enjoy the comforts of air-conditioning, clean and safe streets, and drinkable water from the taps. But for others, these blessings are too meager for the price that they must pay in toil, in freedom and the loss of something that once made them happy. These people will leave this city of small blessings.
- Simon Tay, City of Small Blessings
Edit: I guess this makes me sound intent on emigrating elsewhere, but in truth it reflects a conflict between 2 sentiments - one of reluctance to leave a place where I know so many, and which has profoundly shaped my views and beliefs, and another of dismay at the reality of progress.