fully published

above the mayhem.05
year end entry 2005

Oh boy, I've grown a lot this year. While I still didn�t manage to hit the ceilings literally, the originally-borderline-acceptable-weight me have gained as much as 3 kilograms shortly after I enlisted. Now that is a 5% GREAT LEAP within A WEEK!

This must be attributed to the overwhelmingly nutritious cookhouse meals with their stomach churning laksa breakfasts, 25% food + 75% gravy side dishes, and ever inconsistent portions of food. Not even my penchant for exotic dishes has prepared me for this.

My compassionate side then says I ought to be positive in meal surveys so workers won�t get their pay cut. My less-than-compassionate side says risking the wrath of the orderly sergeant, who stands beside the machine staring at everyone�s choice, is simply not worth it.

Food aside, I guess every Singaporean male would have some hesitation upon receiving the letter proclaiming you are subjected to Chapter 93, not just only because of horror cookhouse stories. I'm not sure if more families are sending their sons to learn piano recently, but as much as National Service may be dreaded, it is something to get over and done with before moving on.

Having said that, I remain a sincere believer in NS because we need to defend our land. I guess the problem lies with the bureaucratic inefficiency one is exposed to, and often an unwilling victim of, in the ranks middle and below that.

Powerless - It�s out of your control if you know your superior made the wrong decision, he will liely justify it with his illogical �logic�, yet you suffer the consequences. Your welfare may be entirely dependent on his whim and fancy, and sadly some superiors are not very competent.

But let�s face it. There�s no point getting upset at the hierachy. Eventually, after long enough meditation, you would have become feebly indifferent to injustices one may encounter. Of course, with the consolation that there is only XXX days to ORD.

After all, we are told to be subservient. Someone once said: �You are men. (i.e. not commanders) Men don�t need to have leadership quality. You just follow.� And after one year, this environment that seems to champion men to follow through motion, has only strengthened my level of �de-intelligence�, the erroneous English word inspired by army lingo like �de-bus�.

However, there is a useful thing I�ve acquired with my �newfound manhood�. No, not bulging muscles fit for Men�s Health covers, but muscles of another kind � financial independence. All right, I admit that $450+ per month is as limp as my own pathetic biceps. Yet the difference is: I can now decide what I need to purchase, without taking guilt trips since the money�s not my parents�.

Or so I thought. The first beeps you hear from that ez-link card reader would have put a stop to all fantasies of lavishing yourself with luxuries. Not only are the beeps different, the deductions too. More often, though, I found myself donating generously to taxi companies, spending up to $50 per week in my Tekong days. I think I'm just too lazy.

Then there are a million people digging away my miserable allowance � Insurance agents, magazine dealers, club membership managers, and worst of all, Beach Road aunties. The offers attract their prey, tempt me closer, before ensnaring me up with things I don't need. But after finding myself poorer, I�ve since done my financial planning, except I still struggle to follow it religiously.

Meanwhile, there�s one more year of army. Soaking up the sun, training for what others may deem a circus act. Following the mundane routine. Pining for off, leave, whatever that gets me out of camp. Holding mini concerts while doing guard duty. Joining in the popularity polls on the (vandalised) walls of the sentry box. And yes, tahan-ing the food. (I can see older Singaporean males hurling stones at me already � �Now eat so good also complain! Remember our days��)

Precious gems, though, will get uncovered from this mess. Even in the state before it�s polished, you know that piece of rock is valuable. It�s like kinship in a family. Before army, home was like a hotel, a stopover to clear my backlog of homework and satisfy my basic needs. In army, home is like a hotel but it�s because I only spend the short weekend in it. Most importantly, though, I hope I've used that time well.

I didn�t run off to Orchard Road or sleep my weekend mornings away; I was with my family either shopping in a supermarket or eating breakfast. My sis and I continue to bicker, but it became a source of joy rather than frustration.

Going home is not about unloading dirty clothes left rotting in the locker, nor simply liberation, a temporary escape from regimentation. It gives me the chance to connect with my family, filling in the gaps of my memory of their lives, which explains why I spent a lot on cabbies since I want to be with them for as long as I can.

To me, these things mattered as I'm a person who hates missing out on things. When I was in Tekong, I was often bewildered by the extent of change in that short span of time, like the newest food court stall, latest TV commercials, and the biggest talk in town. I was distressed by the dearth of newspaper, which meant isolating myself from the world. It�s no wonder I shun any possible chance of getting into SISPEC.

I�ve digressed.

I hope I�ve shown more concern to my family this year. While some people may see me as a patient man (seriously, I don�t know where in the world you have gotten this idea), I doubt I�ve been just that to them. It�s something that, on hindsight, I�m quite apologetic of. Somehow that always happens, right? Only when you have lost it, will you learn to cherish.

The same goes for learning. A process I am rediscovering with newfound impetus, after the burn out last year, thanks to the disruption caused by NS. Be it delving into the mind of Winston Smith, or struggling to comprehend Sun Tzi�s war stratagem, it gives me a genuine sense of satisfaction, which I last had since� kindergarten � and it actually came from completing assessment books.

Then there are friends flying halfway round the world to embark on realising their dreams, studying in a foreign land with the important task of serving the nation when they return. Though, as a testament to this shrinking world, they don�t feel that far away at all. After all, e-mail and MSN make possible instant communication. So it seems as if they are only out on a longer-than-usual holiday.

And I am going on one myself. I entered 2005 in the company of A14 guys. Now, I�m ending the year with my close confidantes, with our craziest and furthest trip to Taiwan so that we can witness the concert (Mayday!) and fireworks at Taipei 101.

Apart from being a much-needed getaway from the madness of 2005, it also fulfils my wish of counting down with close friends, even better if we do it in a faraway land. It�s a great feeling, to usher in a new beginning with people who have been with you through thick and thin, who have tolerated the nonsense, who have joined you in so many wacky ventures that you could never think of doing alone.

What 2006 will bring, I have no idea. But at least, I will see the end of the tunnel in the coming year, like so many other males here. Perhaps a moment of epiphany will dawn on me that causes me to change and accept all the changes. After all, it�s time to grow up � I�ll be out of my teens; I�ll be twenty.

Hope came to my rescue in 2005 and it will be the force that stays on course with me in 2006, as I venture to rediscover myself, to get back fully that sense of confidence, the intelligence, and optimism. So I can look myself in the mirror on 31 Dec 2006 and say with ease: �this is me�.