It is okay, baba. We are okay. You can go. These were the exact words I said as I stroked Shelty while he gasped for air. Exactly five gasps later, he was gone. 15 October 2021. Less than 2 weeks before his 16th birthday on 1 November.  I remember that Friday all too well. I had rushed home from an offsite assignment and I immediately noticed him slowing down. For a week before that, he lost mobility in his back limbs but was spirited and had a healthy appetite. He was still begging Baby Yeo for food and she was still sharing waffles with him. But that day was evidently different. I propped him up and tried to stand him, which was when I realised he wasn’t his usual self. His front limbs were weak. It was as if he had lost the will to even try . I was stricken with fear that gripped my heart so tight I was probably going into a panic attack but forced to remain as calm as I could. I contacted the vet and the the hospital but no one could help us. And so I put him back on his bed an...

" Oh god ," I sighed. It was 6:57 and on most mornings, I would have been out of the house already. Probably somewhere sandwiched in the morning rush hour. But the reluctance to move is real these days. Instead of waking up with the drive to conquer the day, I wake up with an unexplained feeling of sadness wrapped around my bones - the kind of sadness you vaguely recognise but haven't quite learned to deal with. " Where are you now? " That bloody question etched in the forefront of all my thoughts. I'm not sure if it's my 7-year-old conscience haunting my 24-year-old self, or my 24-year-old self drawing out my 7-year-old conscience. " Gone. Six feet under. Just gone. " I don't even need to remind myself. I know this all too well. But despite the hard truth engrained in my head, I still wish y'all were here on days like this. ~~~~~~~~~~ " I wonder what Papa would say if he was around. I'm pretty sure he'd ...

From the backseat, I peered through the gap between the front seat's head rest and the rest of its body. I observed the way my driver was restless in his seat - the same restlessness reflected in his driving as he jammed the brakes one too many times. " We're gonna hit, " I thought to myself every single time we came too close to the car in front of us. I fear for my life whenever I encounter impatient drivers. But more than the fear that was going wild in my stomach, many other thoughts sprung up in my mind. It was the kind of thoughts that sat quietly yet dominantly. Demons. Within seconds, I was staring right back at my 16-year-old despondent self. I felt like the same belligerent teen losing her ground waging war in this unfamiliar world.  I was fighting myself - the person I hated the most. I still do today. It was a bad day. No, it has been many bad days. And I hate to admit it. Or maybe what I hate more is feeling the same he...

He sat across me at the table that evening. We had just finished visiting our Junior College, where we were joined by countless others to celebrate our principal's retirement. We decided to relive our adolescent years at our usual tau huey  place just behind. It was where we had gathered numerous times before as semi-adults grappling with 'A' levels. We had very raw and honest conversations. And I continued talking to said friend all the way home. We sat under my block and chatted till 1AM. " I'm not intimidating, " a belated defense but I felt was necessary. " You're very different now. You weren't like this before, " he said. Having known each other for a good 7 years now, he noticed how I've changed. (Heck, he even noticed I had put on make-up that day even though it was just foundation.) He must have unintentionally studied how I'm no longer 17, no longer whining about every single thing and no longer naive. ...

Every night, as I attempt to get some shut-eye, a lot of thoughts surface in my mind. Some of these thoughts are just fleeting moments and go by in a blink of an eye. Some others are familiar ones that happen to be the very same ones I constantly try to keep at bay. I've always said life truly began for me when I turned 21 because it was at that age that I learned to undo the chains that weighed me down and be brave despite uncertainty. It was also then that I learned to live a life meant for me and not for others. But now and then, there are nights I'm the complete opposite of how I am in the day. And that, honestly, scares me. Most mornings, I wake up and feel grateful for everything that I have. I give my thanks while I shower and step out ready to take on the new day ahead. It's a new beginning,  I tell myself. What motivates and spurs me is knowing that life is way to unpredictable to be held back by fear and anxiety so I set out to live diligently...

When I was younger, the adults would ask me what my ambition was. For some reason, I always gravitated towards prestigious  titles ー doctor, lawyer, astronaut. At some point, I aspired to be a veterinarian. The adults were impressed all the same. " You're going to earn a lot of money, " they agreed unanimously. Those were some ambitious dreams: the kind of dreams I never genuinely chased after or worked towards. Perhaps, the circumstances I grew up in conditioned me to have those ideas. Or maybe the glaringly obvious society norms influenced my answers. Possibly yet, it could've been my mom's die-hard wish for me to turn into someone of great title. By the end of my A-levels, I made becoming a writer my goal. And I accomplished that during internship.  Even now, I regularly contribute to Simply Her as a freelance writer.  But ask anyone out there and they'd tell you writing is not a sustainable job. Much less a prestigious one. And I agree....

I returned home from an extremely long day at school last night and I thought I would immediately crash but as I laid in bed – my sleep-deprived body evidently worn out – I couldn't stop thinking about how far I've come. Four years ago, I began my new academic journey as an undergraduate at NTU's Wee Kim Wee School of Communication & Information. My first steps into the faculty were filled with uncertainty but excitement was cavorting in my ribcage. The 19-year-old me was very different from the person I am now. After six years of negative self-talk, I was nursing a damaged mindset. But I did it with the help of my close friends, especially the bestf whom I will eternally be thankful for. That healing period was tougher than I expected and I knew entering an entirely new environment would do nothing to help me recover any quicker. Still, I took the plunge. Looking back now, I sure am glad I chose WKWSCI in the end. I guess it was a year of realisation...

God knows just how many times I've attempted to update this space only to end up with more incomplete posts in my drafts box. Today, however, I hope it'll be different. It's almost 10 p.m. and I'm dying to be in bed but I shall (attempt to) update while waiting for Mama and the aunts to be back. ~~~~~ Life has been pretty hectic since my last post and I've had so, so  many thoughts during my hiatus but, for some reason, I just couldn't find the right words. Instead, I let those thoughts pass, hoping there would be no reason for them to resurface but, of course, I was too naive to have assumed so. Just 4 days into 2016, we got a call in the wee hours of a Monday morning. Those are the kind of calls I hate the most. And if you know me, you'd know I rarely hate anything. But those calls, they often spell bad news and this was no exception. It was almost 6 in the morning and Mama's phone rang. She jolted awake and barely reached for...

This is one of the more apt late night thought  post because it's 2 in the morning and I'm wide awake. Fortunately, it's not one of the sleepless nights when my own thoughts attempt to consume me. I'm wide awake because it's the yearly affair at the temple for paal kodum , which literally translates to 'milk pot' if you must know. According to my mom, it's a way we give back to the gods for the blessed year before and to pray for a good year ahead. (Yes, reconnecting with my Indian roots.) Anyway, this post is in no way related to the today's event. I've been meaning to craft this post since Ahma was hospitalized but never really got down to it because it all went down so quickly. Now that she's better, I thought I ought to chronicle all the thoughts I've been holding back; all the thoughts about growing old.  It never really dawned on me how real the process of growing old is. I mean, I always knew life was fragile and unpred...

There are some days I look in the mirror and tell myself how proud I am of me for coming this far in life, especially right now when I'm juggling a plateful of responsibilities. Those are the good  days - the days I forget how I used to beat myself up because I didn't meet my own expectations, the days I forget how I used to talk myself into feeling worse because I felt like I was not worth it. The good days are days I wake up feeling good about myself and life. The good days are days I manage to tell myself, " It's okay to stumble and fall. It's okay. You can start all over again today, " and not feel like melting into a pool of nothingness. Truth is, the happy, bright, cheerful and all-about-the-good-things person I am (or try to be) isn't really always all about the good things. In fact, I'm quite the contrary. My mom used to say if I hadn't scored full marks for my spelling tests, she wouldn't acknowledge. Whenever I brought...

I have been trying to document some thoughts in the last two weeks at least but this post has remained as a draft for the longest time yet. Every night, I come back to this draft and try to translate my thoughts into words as accurately as possible but as I edit and re-edit the same post, I start wondering if people would understand what I'm trying to get at. Today, I'm just not going to care anymore because all I want to do is remember this moment - the hardships, the trials and the rewards - so that my future self can look back at the person I am right now and be proud of all the decisions and choices I've made. ~~~~~~~~~~ As I enter my final year at university, I decided that I shall put in more than just my best to make the remaining days count and, of course, to pull up my GPA as much as I can. I was brought up convinced the society will judge my worth based on how well I perform academically. Even though I no longer believe nor will I let my grades define h...