It was 4 AM when we reached Singapore. I haven’t slept for more than 24 hours. Thanks to the delayed flight from Kochi. I was tired and a bit grumpy. I have been contemplating paying extra for an early check-in so I can crash at the hotel immediately.
When the taxi driver asked me, “Where to?”. I didn’t even pause for a second, “Hotel G Bugis, please”. I figured even if they didn’t have any room available, or if it was too expensive, I could just leave the luggage there before roaming around the city like a zombie for a few hours.
When the CityCab sedan sped past the airport in the bright moonlight, I saw Singapore. My Singapore.
I saw the high-rise condos in the East and the warehouses; monochromatic HDB buildings, the cultural icon of Singapore; the soon-to-be-awake malls and school buildings; and some lighted floors in some of the otherwise dark office buildings, a true mark of Singapore’s working culture.
Several other cars passed by; a number of youngsters in their clubbing attire (it was Saturday morning, after all), and empty parks.
These sights made me smile. Thanks to the eight years of living as an immigrant in Singapore, it’s all too familiar. The endorphins kicked in. I was home and feeling nostalgic in Singapore.
Soon after, I got down in Bugis and got an early room for half the price. Not ideal, but my battery is dangerously close to zero.
I checked in, showered, and jumped onto the softest bed. My body was ready to shut down. My brain didn’t.
“Why did I decide to leave anyway?” “Why does it still feel like home?” “How did I feel on my last day here?” “Will it always be home for me?” “There are so many nooks and crannies of Singapore I have yet to explore“. “I miss this city“, “I love Singapore“.
Eventually, riddled with these thoughts, I drifted to the Lala land.
A few hours later, I proposed to Fafa for a week-long vacation, pretend-living like a local in Singapore next year. “Deal!“, he replied.
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