Hujan Batu Lebih Baik?*

I am back.

After nine short years, I'm back in this island where I wander free, land of my birth where my heart longed to be. Those songs from my youth -- trite, compromised, painfully manufactured -- are engraved in my mind.

Why did I start this blog? Today wandering to lunch I saw and heard that song -- sans lyrics** -- being played by a group of uncles in flower shirts.

Childhood sneaks up on you in so many ways, often bearing a plank with a nail through it.

I can't deny it. I agree with the lyrics.

After September 11th 2001, some declared the death of irony; that we lived in a post ironic world, where earnestness, resolution and jutting jaw ala New Socialist Man would prevail. Others took them seriously. Which is more ironic, the serious or the stupid? And who is which?

Or am I both? Because the lyrics are true for me. Maybe 2001 did give me more respect for a secure, boring compromise trade?*** Did I spend too long away to remember how grindingly dull life in Singapore was? Or did I discover that I made my life in Singapore grindingly dull?

Whatever; I am back, though not knowing for how long.

I am back.

* Hujan batu di negeri sendiri lebih baik daripada hujan emas di negeri orang.
A rain of stone in your country is better than a rain of gold elsewhere.

** Lyrics, from memory, to "This is my land"
This is my land, an island where I wander free,
Land of my birth, where my heart longs to be.
Her friendly shores welcomed our fathers long ago
This is our land O Singapore, we love you so!

Arise awake, our land is calling strong and clear,
We will defend this isle we hold so dear,
We all belong to this nation so brave and strong,
This is our land O Singapore, we love you so!

etc etc, more stirring manufactured noises

*** They who would give up an essential liberty for a temporary security, deserve neither liberty nor security. -- some dead old white man who decided he'd rather not hang separately.