Puan was discharged yesterday. The 10 or more days she stayed in hospital was just to monitor her fever and infection. She was on antibiotic and when the course is done, she is given the green light to go home.
I am with her at Bedok Al Ansar, another one of my sibling's home.
This apartment is 25 storey high, I can see all the southern part of Spore. The harbour front, the hub of making money at Shenton Way all the way to the north, near Woodlands which is touching Johor Bahru.
Two of my brothers children are in the primary school level. They are awaken at 6 in the morning to prepare for school. There are two helpers in this house. One to handle Puan and another to handle the house. Both my brother and his wife are working.
Here I am with the last child in the house still sleeping and the helpers doing their things.
Spore people are very strong and hard working. They work leaving the house early in the morning, before the sun is up and coming home when the sun is already buried deep. On public holidays (thats the only day they don't work), they sleep thier tiredness away. I feel so sorry for them.
Where is life, where is the sweetness of life?
I look at Okinawa and I see my Otto doing his gardening, watering the plants around the house, feeding the birds, pulling out some peria and petula to cook for lunch.
Two days ago, my siblings without the small kids, went for a 5km walk at Kent Ridge Park. They built it like a bridge-way on the hills, way above the tree top, for people to walk. Just walk. As we walked, I saw the low hill of Mount Faber, (how sad, the island is so low, even the British called a small hill a little less than 200m as a mount(ain).
Anyway, as we passed some trees, there was this very tall durian tree full of fruits. I stayed in the corner of the bridgeway to hear some remarks made by those walking passed it.
What fruit is that? (some Cina from Mainland maybe).
Wa lau, that must be durian! (some yuppies).
Mommy, is that the thing we ate last night? (some specky nerd-child).
I told my brother, if you want some real original taste of durian, grown from spore soil, go wait under that tree.
My siblings were admiring the views, with some original thick growth still left (and they thought that was the jungle!) mixed with tall commercial buildings and beautiful, clean 10 lane expressway. I felt quite sad for them. This is their tempurung, so small, so clean and so happy.
If only they have the chance to see what I have seen, those small lonely track, those beautiful valleys, those clear water pond by the quiet hill with tilapia and gold fish swimming. Just two of them in the pond on top of a hill.
Turing 360 degrees around, standing in the cloud, the mist blinding my eyes. On top of Mount Fuji. Looking down at deep pine trees, unpenetrating to human and feeling on top of the world. This is my richness, I am rich, beyond what money can count.
Ah, life is beautiful, my mak is beautiful...what more can I say.
My mak is beyond treatment but she is so strong.
Alhamdulillah.
Bedok al-ansar, Singapore
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