New Horizons
POSTED AT 01:42 AM

The other day I dropped by my uncle's place for dinner - a farewell dinner of sorts for my brother who is to fly off this coming Friday to the US to begin his college life. My cousin was there too, and so were some of his friends that he had asked along for the occasion. Amongst the guys I was the youngest - the most junior, and I guess it was natural that I felt a little left out of the loop as well.

What we all had in common, was perhaps the fact that we were all once from the same school - we shared our secondary school alma mater - and more importantly, that we all had places in American colleges overseas. One to Cornell - my brother, just about to fly off; three to Yale - my cousin counted among one of them; one to Columbia; one to Chicago, and one to Duke - me.

I guess it was inevitable that discussion would centre on their college lives - given that my cousin and one of his friends had just completed their sophomore year - and advice to my brother, who would soon be embarking on his own adventure.

Perhaps it was due to the difference in mindset, but I really felt alienated from their conversation. It wasn't really something I could relate to; in fact, my own routine army life seemed much detached from the world that they lived in - one of excitement, one of a foreign culture, one of immense intellectual stimulation, and most importantly, one by choice. They were having loads of fun at college, and boy, was I envious. I wanted to be on that flight to New York on Friday, with my luggage, books, excitement and expectations of a new and vibrant lifestyle.

True enough, my turn will come one day, perhaps next year, perhaps the year after. But I couldn't ignore the sense of loss that I felt. I guess my brother and I are the most immobile in my whole family - of the three other cousins that I have similar in age, two are in Australia and one in the US. We grew up together, but everybody's miles apart now. And I'm still here.

I wouldn't say I regret it. It's not without a certain amount of pride that I don the green uniform that I wear everyday. I may be only NSF, but I still put in my all into everything I do. I am glad to wear the three white stripes on my shoulders; I am proud to wear them. After all, as the song goes, A soldier has to fight the front because he loves his land.

And yet there's still that sense of loss... tinged with a good measure of envy.

It's disconcerting.

Through the window
POSTED AT 09:24 PM

On the train today I met a couple of elderly tourists who, by the looks and sounds of it, were taking the North-South line from one end to the other just to see the 'countryside' of our country.

By their accents they were probably Americans, and as a local it was quite an intriguing experience to listen to them talk about Singapore from their perspective. I've loved taking tours in foreign countries to see the rest of the world beyond these shores, and although the situation was reversed this time, I couldn't help sponging off their enthusiasm and excitement of seeing new things in a new land, far away from home.

I was really quite tempted to strike up a conversation with them, but in the end I desisted, because they seemed pretty happy to just gawk around with the wonder and awe of a child seeing the world for the first time. And I think that really sums up my passion for travelling, because I too love to visit new places and meet new people, and I love that wide-eyed innocence that comes with the new experience in a foreign land.

My brother's left now to New York, and he's probably having the time of his life now as we speak. I know I would enjoy it... the distance from home, the freedom of lifestyle, the novelty of foreign culture, the cosmopolitan company.

I miss him, though. The house is unnaturally quiet without him.

Plug
POSTED AT 09:01 PM

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