podeamI am Singaporean
The meme that started here and is tagged on Technorati as iamsingaporean
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I was told that my Mother Tongue (with the capital letters) is Tamil. I have had twelve years of formal education in the language – yes, I went for night classes when I was four and five because my kindergarten didn’t offer the language. I still can’t come up with a coherent sentence off the calf. Of course, I have also heard all forms of Singaporean-Chinese-Tamil. “Aprugush, anneh” And I’ve had all forms of coconut tree jokes and disappearing in the dark jokes thrown at me. And I laugh and laugh and laugh when people proudly proclaim that Singapore isn’t racist.
I saw this poster today, advertising locally produced goat milk. My first thought was: “Wah, there are actual live goats in Singapore? Goats not meant for ritualistic sacrifice?” Then I realised Singapore even had cows. I had been to a cow farm here when I was younger. As part of a field-trip. Or rather, excursion. It was for geeky little kids with high IQs in Mensa. I still am geeky. As I did this, I thought of what an excellent assignment it would make for my Audio Production class.
I complain about governance and media stifling and the atrocious prices of pizza. As long as no one in white is in ear-shot. Scared lah. I used to be gung-ho about changing Singapore. I now no longer talk explicitly about politics in the blog.
Thing is, I am still gung-ho. I figure, if aunties and uncles can still queue up for hours on end for years on end in the hope that the last four numbers of their childhood sweetheart’s phone number would one day make them insanely rich, I too can hold on to my dream.
Just last week, I got all indignant when a Filipino online-friend said that his national anthem was the prettiest in the world. Never mind that I complained about singing it every morning for ten years, I typed out “Majulah Singapura†for him. I downloaded the song and added it to my iTunes. I gave him the link, and made him listen to it. The fever spread to the pledge, and that too was shoved down his throat. Ours mah; even if I don’t like, cannot let it lose to other people. Even so, I didn’t dare use the national anthem for this. Later considered disrespectful use, damn suay.
I sent him my entire collection of national day songs: Where I Belong, Stand Up For Singapore, We Are Singapore, and four different versions of Home. These songs all make me fiercely proud. They make my heart flutter, and make me want to run out and buy those mini-flags, you know, the ones filled with candy. They made me write something once that was quoted in the newspapers for national day. Of course, they also quoted me as being a woman.
I am Vicnan Karuppiah Pannirselvam.
I have heard too many mispronunciations in my name.
Most Singaporean documents curtail its last two letters: twenty-five characters only, please.
I blog under the umbrella “Podeam”. And I’m male.
I am Singaporean.
So say we all.
So say we all.