Thursday, June 17, 2004

the wall

i am leaving home in about an hour's time. my bus leaves Kl at 2pm. and i am building my wall once more.

let me explain.

i've been home so many times in the 18 months i've been in sngapore. two chinese new years, the sars period, june holidays, september holidays, december holidays, after block test 1...

everytime i come home, i feel like something is released from inside of me. the moment i see the bus turn into the old railway station, or at the start of the perpetual traffic jam right before pudu station, a heavy burden seems to lift itself off my heart. not my shoulders, mind you. my heart. before i see the familiar sights of this city i call home, my breathing is more laboured, each heartbeat more forced. but once i catch a glimpse of the petronas twin towers, my body feels lighter and air fills my lungs more easily.

i could not explain it last year. maybe because i was still overwhelmed by it all. studying in singapore. wow.

maybe because the feeling was not as intense as it is now. with every return, the release feels greater. the relief that floods me once i throw my bags into my mother's car does so in a greater rush.

but with that came also the added reluctance to return to the lion city. my stress level gradually increases from 2 days before i am due to go back and peaks the night before. like i told my friend, i am usually in no mood to do anything the day before i leave, simply because there is only one thought conquering my mind: it's time to return to the 5-star prison. it's time to leave my mother once more. kiss my dog goodbye. call my best friends to wish them safety and health till the next time i see them again.

the period of separation is not long. 10 weeks at most. but the pain i feel each time i board the bus heading south increases every time.

i've only just figured out why. in singapore, it is necessary to keep a guard on things. on your physical well-being, on your relationships in school, at the hostel. on your mental health. it is necessary to keep your head firmly on your shoulders. and, most importantly, it is necessary to never show people that you are weak. because once they see that, all respect is lost, and you become a target of ridicule, embarrassment and, worst of all, pity.

so gradually, i've built up a wall around me. it strengthens with each day i stay in singapore. i reinforce it daily, with sarcasm, hypocritical behaviour and insincerity, to protect the softer flesh within. the me that i try so hard not to show for fear that i should be destroyed.

and it is that wall that crumbles when i come home. that release i feel...it is the wall falling down and disintegrating. my self is free to roam my heart once more, and that is the relief that rushes through me.

however, when the time comes for me to return to singapore, i start building the wall again. it's like preparing for battle. two days before, i start gathering my men, handling the logistics, inspecting the grounds. the day before, i present my plan of attack. and on the day i step on that bus...

they say that when the first A-bomb fell on Hiroshima, there was no sound. all was silent, all was still. it was a deathly silence, one that haunts survivors to this day.

it is like that. the rebuilding of the wall i have found both comfort and fear in. it is the toil of it all that causes the exhaustion i feel when i settle into the seat of the bus. when i check my passport.

when i close my eyes and try not to cry.

lishun at 11:52 AM

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