Singathology
Page 16
“Let me tell you a story, dear Ying. Once, there was a man who, in his youth, was convinced something terrible would happen to him, some great catastrophe. He brooded. In his forties, he met a lovely, charming woman, who wanted to share her life with his. For some reason, she liked his sadness. He too was drawn to her. But he decided he must not succumb. He did not want her to share his terrible fate, whatever that might turn out to be. So he kept her at a distance. They met only occasionally. As the years slipped by and he weakened into old age, he finally realised what the great catastrophe of his life had been: it had been to ignore the love of a good woman and to allow life to pass him by. I feel like that man, Ying, even if I did not build this prison.”
“You are not that man, Hock, for you do love and love deeply. Being together is not necessary for love. Did not the woman in your story escape the man’s fate, just by loving?”
“What you say is true, but what comfort can it be? You have been above me all this time while I am sealed here, below. Should we not have started side by side, as a couple should, from the start until the end – in the tomb?”
“Hock, I do not like this heavy, morbid talk. It weighs us down when today, of all days, we should soar. Be patient. Our moment together is coming. And then it shall be as you like – side by side or face to face. Hush. Tomorrow we shall be together. Hush.”
9. Freedom
The door opened.
There stood a hunched form, veiled from tip to toe.
“You are here to bring me to Ying?”
A nod of the head. The form turned and led him from his cell. He hesitated at the threshold, it had been so long since he had crossed it. He watched the form ahead of him, noting its slow, uncertain gait. That of an old woman. Ying’s mother perhaps.
He followed her, finding his own step slowing to match hers. They entered a lift unlike any he had seen before. Doors that closed of their own accord behind them. Up it went, so quickly that his ears popped. Then out they came into blessed night. The full moon dazzled him.
The old woman took his hand, a gesture of familiarity that unsettled him and guided him toward a pool of water, a pool that seemed to stretch forward infinitely, merging with the sky. A pool at such a height!
She turned to face him and spoke for the first time.
“Hock, at last we are together, beneath the same moon.”
“Ying, is that you under the cloak? What a joker you are, mimicking an old woman!”
“Mimicking? Hardly.” She unwrapped her veil, and as she did so Hock could see her hands, their skin parched by too many years, and then, as the veil fell away, he saw her face, the wrinkles, the grey hair.
“You are shocked?” Her voice though was the same, as sweet to his ears as ever. Had he fallen in love with an old woman, deceived by her voice?
“Hock, look into the water.”
He did as she asked. Looking back at him, the full moon shining behind it, was the haggard face of an old man. He stared at it uncomprehending. Then he understood.
“Ying, how long have I been imprisoned?”
“Fifty years, Hock, fifty years.”
His knees buckled, but she held him before he fell, and now their faces were close, her eyes kind and reassuring. This calmed him. But then he pulled away.
“Why so long? Why keep me trapped and distant from you for so long?”
“I was powerless – imprisoned too.”
“Imprisoned? You walked about the garden, listened to birdsong, breathed in the scent of jasmine and frangipani, how can you say that you were imprisoned?”
“Not all prisons are made of stone.”
“What was your prison made of then?”
“The ties and bonds of duty…”
“What is left to us, Ying, after all these years apart? What story can we make together? It is much too late… I am old… death will come for us both all too soon. You should have left me to rot, where at least I had the hope of a future with you. The truth is that one prisoner cannot free another.”
“As the poet says, the way of the spirit is inward. One man finds happiness in the desert, another is listless and sad in a beautiful rose garden.”
“And I was happy in my stone prison, dreaming of my future with you, and now I am sad in this beautiful garden, set high in the sky, recalling my past without you. What time is left to us, my beloved Ying?”
“Oh, Hock, we still have time together. We shall be with each other at the end. Who can say that they had enough time? There is never enough time, and yet we carry on.”
Anger surged in Hock’s heart. He would have given up anything for Ying, yet she had chosen to follow duty, to leave him in that stone box, calling down from time to time, just enough to give him hope, not enough to give him a real life. The better part of his life had been lived in the depths of the shadows. She had been his moon, adored yet forever beyond his reach.
Fists clenched and unclenched. Moon on his face. Heart in pitch darkness. His body shook, and he realised that he was shouting at the top of his voice, not even words, just sounds, sounds of rage and fury.
Ying drew back, frightened, and then she hurried to him and held him. At first, he tried to shake her off, but then, slowly, he quietened. Hock felt her arms tighten around him. It was her, his beloved who held him. Beauty comes from the radiance of the soul, and truly she was beautiful. He lifted up her face so that he could kiss her.
And he saw, beyond her, the waters of the bay far below them, reflecting the lighted windows of a myriad buildings. This new world – did he and his dreams have a place in it?
They stood together, trembling on the edge, high above the city. Hand in hand, they stepped off, falling till the wind caught them, and up they soared again. There was scarcely a building he recognised, nor even the shape of things. The land had grown to enfold part of the sea, encased it in concrete. Great steel structures – girders, gantries, cranes – whirred enormous metal boxes from ship to shore and back again, without a coolie or a sack of rice in sight. Impossibly tall buildings spread in every direction.
This was his city no longer, he thought. His words had been no use. Suddenly, the wind lessened, and he was falling again till Ying’s touch upon his arm steadied him, held him aloft once more. “Kiss me, kiss me again, as we fly.”
It was then that he caught glimpses of something he recognised, heard it too upon the wind. A spirit he knew, of men and women who worked together, who built together. His gaze stretched, from Anson to Aljunied, Bukit Timah to Bukit Merah, Changkat to Changi. He saw boys playing music at the waterfront, men drinking beer or coffee, women strolling, chattering.
His words had not vanished. They had spread across the land, through that narrow slit, finding little echoes here and there, not dying out, but multiplying.
The sun was rising. This was still the city he had loved and would love eternally.
Riot
BY ALVIN PANG
get indoors; your daughters are safe
your friend who lives close, reach for his long lens
at an inconvenient hour, tell the saint
from the wavering: who stays in place?
the screen has teeth that latch, will not let go
spidery: the smashed glass, the word control
death is no cause for din
not with this new smoke, cut corners
a race to the bottom of the bottle
if fault were not found, then faultlines
remember what slopes down to the sixties
what is slippery, out of view, must thunder
separate skies inform climate
sanction unforced error, spontaneous overflow
better get used to blood the same colour
whichever the street, the burnt stakes
if you can afford to wait, wait
what’s that you say, the night is too wet?
the thing is what you’ve lost wouldn’t fill a cup
between falling and waking
&
nbsp; but here at the fracture of two currents
dark waves are lapping at the walls
outside there is nothing and all their pain
Di Bawah Bayangmu
OLEH MOHAMED LATIFF MOHAMED
Bila kurenung wajah sendumu
Dalam kilat-kilau sejarah
Dalam remang bianglala
Berdarahlah nostalgiaku
Menitis air mata pilu
Kau kembali membelai malam
Kerdipan neon di kelam suram
Kau kembali mencumbui kota ini
Setelah kau tinggalkan
Bersama sejarah dan air mata bangsa
Dengan duka Radin Mas1
Dengan laranya Tanggang.2
Kenapa kau lontarkan mahkotamu3
Ke perut lautan
Di celah pulau idaman
Mengapa titis air matamu
Setelah mahkotamu kau tenggelamkan
Kini anak cucumu
Melagukan kasidah duka
Syair berdarah
Dan gurindam air mata.4
Kau saksi semasa todak menyerang
Dan membiarkan Nadim5
Dihumban ke perut lautan
Kini kau mencari intelekmu
Yang bungkam
Yang pilu dalam dendam.
Kini kau kembali menziarah
Istana peninggalan
Yang remuk dimamah impian
Yang pucat sepanjang zaman
Kini kau keliling kota
Melawat istana
Mencari raja
Yang tiada
Walau dalam mimpi cuma.
Kini kau sesat di kota
Dengan kehilangan Kota Raja
Tun Seri Lanang6
Rindu Sang Nila Utama
Yang hilang dalam kelam malam
Hanya roh Radin Mas bergentayangan
Bersama roh Habib Noh7
Memandikan Kota Singa
Dengan doa dan rindu dendam
Kita kehilangan sayang
Kita di ufuk percintaan
Yang terkubur
Bersama pembangunan.
1 Radin Mas Ayu merupakan puteri Jawa yang menerima nasib yang sungguh malang di tangan golongan istana, di tanah Singapura.
2 Tanggang merupakan watak utama yang derhaka terhadap ibunya dalam beberapa versi cerita rakyat di Asia Tenggara.
3 Merujuk kepada mahkota kepunyaan Sang Nila Utama, putera kerajaan Srivijaya yang dikatakan telah membuka Singapura pada kurun ke-14.
4 Kasidah, syair, dan gurindam merupakan di antara bentuk-bentuk puisi lama Melayu.
5 Hang Nadim merupakan seorang wira muda yang dikatakan pernah menyelamatkan Singapura dari serangan ikan todak, tetapi malangnya beliau mati di tangan raja yang cemburu akan kebijaksanaannya.
6 Tun Sri Lanang merupakan Bendehara Sultan Johor yang hidup antara kurun ke-16 dan ke-17. Beliau dianggap sebagai pengarang Sejarah Melayu atau Sulalatus Salatin.
7 Habib Noh atau Habib Noh bin Muhamad Al-Habshi merupakan seorang ulama terkenal di Singapura pada kurun ke-19.
Beneath Your Shadow
BY MOHAMED LATIFF MOHAMED
Translated by Harry Aveling
When I consider your sad face
In the dazzling light of history
In the shadow of the rainbow
Nostalgia flows through my veins
I weep sad tears
As you caress the night
Neon signs flicker in the dark
You return to talk fondly to the town
You left long ago
Talking gently about our people’s history
Our people’s tears
Radin Mas’s sorrow1
Tanggang’s grief.2
Why did you throw your crown
Into the belly of the ocean
Between the desirable islands
Why did you cry
When your crown sank3
Now your grandchildren
Sing sad kasidah
Syair bleed
Gurindam weep.4
You witnessed the swordfish attack
And allowed Nadim
To be hurled into the sea5
Now you search for your mind
Your silenced intellect
Your bitter sorrowful rationality.
Now you visit once more
The decaying palace
An heirloom consumed by dreams
Faded by age
Now you go into the town
Take a tour of the palace
Looking for a king
Who no longer exists
Even in your dreams.
Now you are lost in the city
With the disappearance of the King
Of Tun Sri Lanang6
Sang Nila Utama’s longing
Vanished in the dark night
Radin Mas’s spirit wanders in the night
Together with Habib Noh7
Bathing the Lion City
With their prayers and memories
We have lost love
We live on affection’s horizon
Buried
By development projects.
1 Radin Mas Ayu was a Javanese princess who, according to legend, suffered much in the royal court of Singapore.
2 Tanggang is a protagonist of a Southeast Asian folktale noted for his lack of filial piety.
3 A reference to Sang Nila Utama, the fourteenth-century Srivijayan founder of Singapore, throwing his crown into the sea near Singapore.
4 Kasidah, syair, and gurindam are forms of traditional Malay verse.
5 Hang Nadim was a legendary young hero who saved Singapore from shoals of attacking swordfish but was killed by the jealous Maharaja.
6 Tun Sri Lanang was the Grand Vizier of the Johor Sultanate between the sixteenth and seventeenth century and supposedly authored the Sejarah Melayu, or Malay Annals.
7 Habib Noh is a Muslim saint who lived in Singapore in the nineteenth century.
南大之大
作者：陈志锐
难大
从小就听着父母的朋友说着仿佛传奇的学校，总纳闷什么那么难长大，就像迫不及待长大的童年的我。
或许那时，我说出了每一个小孩的共同心事吧。
就像大人，也谈着好多义卖者、筹款人、读书人的共同心事。
难忘大学
后来，还是都长大了。
而且教书，前辈同事竟大多是南大毕业生。当然有悲情，更多的是缅怀和向往。
他们缅怀；我，向往。
南大托儿
还没到南大的教育学院上班，就先带小兮和薰薰天天到云南园小山岭上的托儿所报到。
每天驱车经过马路两边如手指相扣交叉的热带雨树之后，就抵达校门以及潘受先生的题字，孩子们就准时叫嚷：爸爸的学校，爸爸的学校。
终于有天，我告诉他们，是的，爸爸的学校，叫南大。小兮立刻炫耀：我会认“大”。
是的，我笑，就是那个“大”。
--可是，我还不会“南”。
--以后你就会了。快了，快了。
真要认准这个“南”，或许还真难，也还真要时间呢，就等你长大吧！
听到孩子每天两回经过校门，就嚷嚷“南大，南大”，我还真是有种莫名的念旧的感动的。是的，无论南洋大学抑或南洋理工大学，我都感念不已。
是的，南大，我们回来了，在多雨的岁末，在湿了的皆秀色的，山山树树之中。
暂别南大
还没有与南大深交，就又作别了。
借调的关系，离开了偏远的西郊，我又回到了中南部。
南大，远了，一如众鸟的啁啾，众木的森然。皆秀色的，继续秀色，皆羞涩的，还是，羞涩。
而我还是眷恋山色的，那个历史的山色，南大的山色。
而且也还是向往的，那个始终还在追
索的，人文大学。
中南有地
我们开拓着中南部，从一个刚废弃的小学校舍。
看第一眼的时候，我们就拒绝了他。几几乎要落地更中部的宏茂桥，却被更高昂的翻新，更繁杂的工程挡了回来。
还好，情势为我们作了决定，实际考量取代了第一印象。放弃宏茂桥，落户中南部的锦茂老区，我们开展新加坡华文教育史上的中南部大开发，而且是以南大底下一个独立自主的中心之名。
是的，从一个刚废弃的小学校舍出发，我们要带着南大之名，
走向世界。
大学之大
自古的大学，除了大在知识的发明、深究、传播，更多的是对个体、社群与国家，甚至历史与未来的巨大意义。
我们对南大还有一股从小到大的大感情，而这感情不关南大湖多大、牌坊是否挪移、世界大学排名是否神速蹿升到亚洲第一、校舍是否晋身世界最漂亮的前十五名。
南大之大，
其实就因南方有心
就因新加坡窄小的土地上
曾经向往、怀念南方最高最大学府的
每一个小人物
每一股微弱却坚毅的声音
每一次攀越中的自力更生
而且以草根之姿
以泰山崩于前而色不变之态
所表现出来的
何其大的力量。
The Greatness Of Nantah
BY TAN CHEE LAY
Translated by Jeremy Tiang
Non-Young
As a child, I had heard my parents and their friends talking about this seemingly mystical university, Non-Young, making me think they shared my urge to become an adult as quickly as possible.
Perhaps what I’m describing is a thought that has passed through every child’s mind.
Just as the grown-ups were discussing thoughts that had passed through the minds of many volunteers, fundraisers, and scholars.