once upon a time

this serene path greeted me as i neared home. there were times when i jogged along this as well, but those times were few and far between.

people washed their cars and taxis here using water from the stream. they still do. they use leaves to funnel the water from the downhill drain into buckets.

this staircase would have water streaming down it after heavy rainpours and i would run and up and down splashing the water around, sit down hard on the steps to pretend that i'm in a moving stream, and get all wet.

i had to memorise ten thousand facts about the water hyacinth. psle science, anyone? i don't remember anything anymore though.

this little path wasn't there?

the stream wasn't so out in the open?

the steps weren't tiled, but probably grey concrete.

this wasn't so pruned and beautified, but it was still really pretty. i remember seeing grass cutting men with their whirring machines. i don't remember seeing someone sit and pull out the weeds in between the stones on the foot massage path.

this winding, sloping path was flanked by two huge sand pits with some fitness what-not or playground toys. i didn't go up on this day. i will do this when i tackle the southern ridges.

this was a huge playground. there was a big sand pit housing one of those monstrous slides that also had gaps and holes built under and around it for the best catching games of your life. there was a main slide and two flanking, shorter slides. the main slide was higher than your parents and required running up steps to get to it. it was cool to the touch and solidly reassuring. there was no squeaky sound of skin against plastic, or hollow thud of a child plopping down on the slide hurriedly in a game of chase.

there was a giant merry-go-round. you could smell the iron and hear the ominous echo when you jumped on it. this is where you learn one of the best lessons about inertia, when you had to strain to get the reluctant and heavy merry going. but you wouldn't know until you were old and unfortunate enough to have to study inertia. this was where you learned how satisfying it is to reap the fruits of your labour. pushing the merry-go-round was as much fun as being on it, because it's all about the moment when you can leap on it and fly and scream in delight.

there were two see-saws. wooden planks with handles that required human weight to work. creaky, wobbly and weapons of sabotage for scrawny boys who'd jump off suddenly to send the other person crashing to the ground.

there was an animal, whose back was an arch you could hide in or crawl onto. never really figured out the function of those. it was good when you wanted to lie down, i suppose.

springs were a non-feature.

as was plastic. you knew you had played hard if you went home with your hands smelling like a mix of iron, sweat and dirt.

i played many games of badminton here.

and i loved to climb this stupid referee chair.

it's all gone though. saturday afternoon and there were no kids running around. only faded plastic overrun by pigeons and the smell of garbage.

dr thomas has years and years of my medical records. and a mercedes. he saw me when i had the worst fever of my life, when i was delirious and could do nothing but lie in bed drifting in and out of consciousness. i think he advised sending me to the hospital but i don't remember. i only remember a moment - lying in the dark on the right side of the master bed and waking up for a few seconds to hear my mother crying and see my aunt standing there.

my aunt spent a lot of time cooking. she lived one floor up and i used to go to her place after school for meals and to be "looked after". she would send me downstairs to buy stuff for her cooking. this was where the coconut shaving machine stood. i loved this machine. it disappointed me when they had a pile of pre-shaved coconut lying there waiting for me to buy. i always wanted to see the coconut i buy shaved before my eyes.



i liked that my floor had a full length corridor. this was pre-the lift stops on every floor days, so only the levels on which the lifts stopped had long corridors.



the windows, grills and doors of my old unit have not changed. but i didn't take any pictures cos it didn't seem right to.

that block didn't use to be green.

this used to be a flatland carpark. i would stand on the piano seat next to the window in my aunt's place and see the cars drive in and out and park.

i had a conversation about hl milk along this path. a boy i liked was telling me it had added vanilla flavouring.

i went out for a little while with someone who stayed here. we could see the windows of each other's home and would spend time discussing whether we really could see each other's silhouette.

this used to be indian mamak shop, i think.

this was a steep, black tarred slope i loathed to climb.

and this was a road for cars.

we were encouraged to buy out own flags to put up. $1.50, I remember.

my mother bought me clothes here.

i crossed this zebra crossing all the time.

there was a playground here at which i got really jealous.

there was a block of flats with a cake shop. chocolate mini swiss rolls.

i think this was already here, with a different look. i don't know, this is not the kind of thing kids notice.

you could see the whole sky from here.