As I lapsed momentarily into a hypnosis listening to the monotonous lull of the white plastic buttons of my flannel pyjamas top hitting against the stainless steel barrel of the tumble dryer, I found myself replaying a conversation I had with B, a fellow Indian-Singaporean living in Sydney, while waiting for the lights, in my head.
Being in Sydney meant a heightened attachment to Singapore, Singaporeans and the Singaporean lingo. Well, to me at least. As I jokingly told her that my idea of Indians at the age of 5 was the women all wore saris and the men were all roti-prata sellers, B recounted her experience with some Christian-convert friends who told her she should never go for yoga.
And it suddenly dawned on me the reality of solidarity. It's like this: It is of human nature to want to associate with each other in one way or another, but the reality is our assumption and stereotyping of another community different from ours contradicts that very desire for sameness in identity. And that brings me to wonder about the bigger picture. The construction of a national identity is a political rhetoric which at the end of the day may simply be an imagined existence; an awareness will almost never, dare I say, translate into real understanding; what is present is the pretentious assumption of a knowledge and the inability to admit "Honestly, I don't know...".
Ludicrously, my own thought scared me. And as I scrambled to recall the pledge I grew up reciting, I felt my heart almost stopped when I couldn't remember the words..."We, the citizens of Singapore, pledge ourselves as one united people, regardless of race, language or religion..." But as sarcastic as it may sound, I sure am glad somebody dreamt a dream this big some thirty years ago and despite all the challenges, made it thus far.
Being in Sydney meant a heightened attachment to Singapore, Singaporeans and the Singaporean lingo. Well, to me at least. As I jokingly told her that my idea of Indians at the age of 5 was the women all wore saris and the men were all roti-prata sellers, B recounted her experience with some Christian-convert friends who told her she should never go for yoga.
And it suddenly dawned on me the reality of solidarity. It's like this: It is of human nature to want to associate with each other in one way or another, but the reality is our assumption and stereotyping of another community different from ours contradicts that very desire for sameness in identity. And that brings me to wonder about the bigger picture. The construction of a national identity is a political rhetoric which at the end of the day may simply be an imagined existence; an awareness will almost never, dare I say, translate into real understanding; what is present is the pretentious assumption of a knowledge and the inability to admit "Honestly, I don't know...".
Ludicrously, my own thought scared me. And as I scrambled to recall the pledge I grew up reciting, I felt my heart almost stopped when I couldn't remember the words..."We, the citizens of Singapore, pledge ourselves as one united people, regardless of race, language or religion..." But as sarcastic as it may sound, I sure am glad somebody dreamt a dream this big some thirty years ago and despite all the challenges, made it thus far.
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