10 November 2021

Tonton Macoute

I didn't know what a "Tonton Macoute" was when I came across the term in a science fiction novel by Boris and Arkady Strugatsky. I looked it up. It seems to be a reference to the Haitian secret police, a paramilitary force that was present half a century or more ago.

10 September 2021

Friday

 It is finally Friday. It is almost the end of a long week. It will be a long month.

Kindness

I have always thought that the single most important and attractive attribute in a woman is kindness. That is followed by emotional stability. Everything other attribute follows after, intelligence, honesty,  beauty, and more. Sadly, I have yet to encounter a woman with that paramount attribute.

08 September 2021

An old photograph

 I found an old photo of my mother. I think it was taken in the early 70s. I gave it to her and she was delighted. My sisters and I were wondering when the photo was taken. My mother wasn't sure either.

 I want to read and draw.

 I look forward to the weekend.

06 September 2021

Idiots

I had to issue warnings to some idiots. Sadly, I had to repeat myself. Loudly.

07 July 2021

The Air Base

The scenes from the recently abandoned Bagram base is reminiscent of the scenes in a J.G. Ballard novel. The desolation and the loneliness of the structures speak of a once thriving community of people from a foreign land, bringing their values and their civilisation. Eventually, over time, these strangers were swept away, leaving the emptiness of today.

19 March 2021

Yellow-vented bulbul

There is a yellow-vented bulbul nest in one of my potted plants. I see the pair of parents flying to the nest daily. Bulbuls are, of course, rather shy.

Twenty years ago, we rescued a baby bulbul, we had tried to return it to the nest but it was too high up in the tree. Anyway, the bulbul grew up eating from my mother's hands. It grew up eventually. One day, it came back with a mate and visited us for the last time to say goodbye. We never did see the bulbul again.

20 February 2021

My father's school books

As I cleared my father's table at work, I came across his old exercise books from high school. I think it dates back to 1951. His education was interrupted by the Japanese invasion in 1937 and subsequently 1941. In 1951, it was difficult to go back to school in the postwar rebuilding period and he did not remain in school for long. I can see his neat handwriting, with words in English and characters in Chinese. These look rather unlike his writing in his later years.

22 January 2021

Post-truth

I remember twenty years ago, a devout person of a certain religion once told me that truth is relative and that one must be flexible. I remember that this person was rather willing to bend facts to his will. He was, in a way, ahead of his time in light of the zeitgeist.

04 January 2021

Unsolicited calls and SMS messages

I get many calls from folks asking if I wanted bridging loans, and also help in getting on schemes from the government and more.

I also get many SMS messages asking if I wanted loans. I blocked those numbers.

There must be some sort of a cottage industry with regards to small loans. Is there a shadow economy at work here?

Low temperatures

According to the papers, the rain on Friday and Saturday was the heaviest in 39 years. It rained continuously for two days, with the rain being heavy much of the time. The temperature in the Newton area was reported to be about 21 to 22 degrees. It has never been this cold before.

It has been chilly at home.

Father

 My dear father passed on in early December. I will miss him.

I remember as a child of three or four and a monkey was chasing me at the Botanic Gardens. I had jumped on a park bench only to see the monkey jumping up as well. My father picked me up before the monkey could get at me and carried me away on his shoulders, rescuing me.

I remember during one national parade in the early 70s, my father had put me on his shoulders. He was running along the road, in the crowd, so that I could see the parade. He ran on Coleman Bridge at South Bridge Road.

He was a good father.