I studied the Indonesian language a few years ago. I have forgotten most of it. But I never forgot how it made me feel. It is a beautiful language. Refined. Gentle. Almost poetic. It paints instead of naming. Breast becomes buah dada, fruit of the chest. The sun becomes matahari,
short story
Food for Thought One meal during Chinese New Year can easily cost twenty times more than what we spend on a normal day. A table filled with abalone, prawns, fish, roast meats, and bottles of drinks. Laughter. Photos. Prosperity tossed high in the air. It is celebration. It is tradition.
Satire
I am the strictest boss I have ever worked for. When I failed to hit my own KPIs, I called myself into a meeting. No appeal. No warning letter. Immediate termination. Now I am unemployed, and still reporting to the same boss tomorrow.
short story
I don’t quite understand this. It’s dinner time. The café is packed. People are walking around with trays, scanning for seats like it’s a competitive sport. Seats are limited. Every table matters. And yet, a laptop is open on a table. One drink. One person. The dining
short story
Boom. That’s the question. It arrives before the bak kwa plate finishes one round. Before the pineapple tarts settle in your stomach. Before you even sit down properly. “So… where are you working now?” And just like that, you become the reunion dinner entertainment. The spotlight switches on in
micro memoir
Reunion dinner used to be rowdy at Lei Hwa Restaurant. Three tables, every year. Today, it is only a memory. They have left.
Satire
There is one benefit scheme nobody announces. No portal. No application form. No income ceiling. The traditional principle is simple: Married people give. Unmarried people receive. In many Chinese families, if you are unmarried, you are still considered “eligible” for ang pow, whether you are 5, 25, or 65. Age
short story
Confession. Chinese New Year is the only time of the year where you can gain three kilos, lose one month’s salary, and question your entire life direction within 48 hours. In the 1960s, we lived in kampong. We wore the same clothes every day. Chicken and bottled drinks were
Satire
Breaking news. Buying a ten-dollar mystery box with a plastic figurine inside is dangerous. Buying a Toto ticket with dreams of early retirement is nation building. I love this country. Apparently, the problem with mystery boxes is that you don’t know what you’re getting. It encourages repeated
short story
A few years before Covid, a minister shared that when he stepped into a lift, he heard people around him speaking in a language not his own. He said it was the first time he felt like a foreigner in his own country. Back then, I was working in the
Satire
Language is amazing. We don’t change the situation. We just change the name. And suddenly it feels… upgraded. Once upon a time, someone d*ed. Now they are “unalived.” Homeless? No, no. “Unsheltered.” Or even better, “rough sleepers.” Sounds almost adventurous. Like they chose camping as a lifestyle. Manpower
Satire
We Are World Champions at Complaining We complain about the heat. We complain about the rain. We complain when it’s too hot. We complain when it’s too cold in the MRT. We complain about the cost of chicken rice. Then we queue 45 minutes for the “famous” one.