My school friend who is here on a visit from India came out of the guest room after her afternoon nap. She was surprised. Our entire family was sitting in the living room in front of the television dressed in red and white. We were at home on the sofa, totally in sync with the 42,000 people waving their flags at the National stadium.
National Day means different things to different people who have come to Singapore carrying their different histories.
My friend Kanwal Sahney arrived in Singapore as a young Indian immigrant on Aug 9, 1981, with a bagful of dreams and very modest means at the newly opened Changi Airport. Today he is a very successful businessman and has Singapore to thank for it, just like many of us who have taken the same journey.
Every national day we feel the joy, and share our success with family and friends, retelling our stories to our children and anyone else who will listen about how Singapore became home. The immigrants who once measured time in years spent away from India now measure it in years spent in Singapore.
Majulah! Onwards we go!
We arrived with our baggage and our gods, our Prestige pressure cookers and our pickles believing we would stay for three years, maybe four. We are still here 44 years later.
Uncle Salim quietly vents on every National day, its expensive to retire here in Singapore, we might go back next year. His wife Zara nods sagely. The children and grandchildren look at them as though they have just announced plans to return to the Bronze Age.
Back to the NDP where the action is. As we sit around the television watching the motorcade of our President drive in, the annual trivia chat begins: Which car is the President driving in? Doesn’t look very flashy. But then that is Singapore. We are humble and so is our President.
Everyone in the parade looks so young. They don’t look young, silly. They are young! Don’t let the looks deceive you. They are highly trained fighting machines, battle ready to protect our country if called upon.
President is inspecting the Parade. Wah, the SAF guy he is talking to – so serious. Giving him his KPIs for the year? No, maybe asking where is the best curry puff in the country these days!
We move on to the National anthem. Some sing loud and strong and know every word, some have tears in their eyes which they hold back while the camera pans, some only know the two words Majulah Singapura, and mouth the rest while hoping nobody notices.
National anthem is always followed with a reflective silence. Everyone has their favourite words to contemplate on – joy, pride, gratitude, unity and for the odd one, COE!
The entertainment begins. It’s like comfort food for the Singaporean soul. It’s creating harmony out of cacophony that few outsiders will comprehend. It’s so unpretentious, says my guest, it’s not all pomp and ceremony. It’s like a school play where everybody from the principal to the security guard are performing together. It’s who we are, says my son, One Nation, One Singapore.
Wow! Look at those spectacular fireworks! Can you imagine the cost! Burning money, says pioneer generation uncle, but is quickly silenced with another Guinness. This magnificent fireworks show makes kachang puteh of the Deepavali cracker bedlam back in India.
As NDP came to an end, I watched my friend give a sigh of relief as chicken rice and satay were served. It is the shared Singaporean experiences that make NDP so special. It speaks to our new citizens as well as our old ones. This is the country you have chosen to be yours. This is its history.
These people you see waving their hands while they perform rasa sayang... hey, are the people you’re now a part of. All I’m saying is that the NDP is not meant for tourists, it’s meant for us, Singaporeans, old and new.
If you are new, leave the parade and eat your way through a hawker centre. Drink kopi from a plastic bag. Do qiqong at the CC. Hear from the elderly about what Singapore was like in the 60s. Meet my friend Kanwal who came decades ago and listen to his immigrant story that he relays with such pride.
And then, the next NDP and the next NDP and the next NDP… will mean something different, something more important to you. As PCK would say: “Don’t play play!”
I look at the lively company, old and young, digging into the Gado Gado. Uncle and aunty, the first generation who may still have an emotional connection to the country they left. Their children have a much more complicated relationship. The grandchildren? They will look at India as heritage and Singapore as home.
Moral of the story, you can be as Indian as you like and still stand proudly for Majulah Singapura.
Identity isn’t a pie, you don’t have to give up one slice to make room for another.
Majulah Singapura... Go Forth and Conquer!
