Telephones Anyone?

East Coast, Katong 1962 - One of the many haunts for young romantics




May 4th, 1962.

"Iceball satu", Zaed almost whispered to the Chinese man in the twilight of his years. Slowly but surely, his decrepit hands scooped a generous portion of the ice cold ball which for so many years, has relieved both the young and the old in the scorching and bustling port that's Singapore. The bulging veins protruding beneath his crumpled faded skin indicated the years of hard work probably from pushing his war torn mobile 'mart' from one small town to another.

Zaed fished out two pieces of the now defunct 1 cent coin and placed it in the old man's cash register which was really just an ordinary dirty plastic bowl. Zaed longed for days when he could have an iceball for lunch. It's because on days like these that Zaed skips his meal just so that he can afford to order more food at dinner with Rozza, the girl he is going to marry one day.

"Same time same place ok abang Zaed?", Zaed could still hear his Rozza reminding him before they parted during their last date. Singapore back then did not have the majestic malls and streets of Orchard Road to roam about. There wasn't anything close to the vibrant bars the line Boat Quay or the 9 foot walkways of the Durianish Esplanade where couples, both old, new and the queer take long romantic walks.

1960s Singapore had other things though. They had beautiful parks and drive-in movies. They had a theme park in Katong and 1-cent per stick Satays lining the old Satay Club. The youths had house parties every other weekend and dance clubs that was hardly any dangerous to attend.

1960s Singapore most importantly was almost untainted by things modern and every other corner somewhat provided a little bit of memory for couples that allowed the moonlight to guide their long romantic walks after a road-side dinner. The intricate architecture of the island's rich colonial past fused with those brought about by travelling immigrants from Java, Melaka and China, setting up a spectacular array of Film Noir like backdrops that added so much character to life back then.

"Zaed, I'm afraid you got to work late tonight. Ismail's wife is sick and you got to cover him alright?", Mr Smith, their manager informed. Zaed does not have much of a choice but to nod in agreement. Although knowing that his attempts at reaching Rozza would be futile, Zaed still dialled Rozza's telephone number and waited.

"Assalamualaikum. Boleh saya cakap dengan Rozza?", Zaed asked without much confidence. "Rozza belum pulang dari kerja nak. Ini Zaed ye? Rozza kan kat kerja, dia kata malam ni dia balik lambat. Overtime katanye", Rozza's mum went on and on.

Zaed smiled sheepishly for he knows that Rozza only tells her mum that she has to work overtime whenever he is meeting her for dinner or a movie or a walk in the park as Rozza comes from a traditional Malay family and it is not common for parents to allow their daughters to go out with a boy without their younger siblings or friends to chaperon them.

Thoughts of Rozza worrying over his punctuality made Zaid break out into cold sweat. The time showed 8pm. They were supposed to meet at the corner of the Siglap Market almost an hour ago. Surely Rozza must be fretting herself silly waiting for him Zaed thought as he could not fully concentrate on the work he has at hand.

9pm came and went. By the time Zaed was done, Zaed wished the clock was lying when it showed 9.20pm."I hope Rozza is home safely", Zaed told himself as he placed his hands on the receiver of the telephone. "Should I call?", Zaid questioned himself as he was afraid he might get a tongue lashing from Rozza's dad or mum for calling late in the night. "I think I shall just call. Rozza is always the first to answer the phone anyway whenever she is home. Then I shall just hang up when I hear her voice so that she won't get into trouble for talking on the phone at such an odd hour.

Zaed dialed the number and sure enough, he heard Rozza's voice and hung up smiling to himself. Zaed grabbed his helmet and flew down the stairs to his Vespa scooter. On his ride home, Zaid mulled over the beautiful dinner that never came. Stomach growling, no girlfriend, overtime...all these omens encompassed a disastrous day for the young man.

"What the heck", Zaed thought to himself, as he turned left toward the Siglap Market junction. "If I don't get to see my Rozza, at least let me walk in her footsteps", Zaed decided to console himself. As her swerved toward that iconic landmark, never did he imagine what was presented to him. There sitting on the bench was Rozza, smiling from ear to ear the moment she heard that stutter of a sound Zaed's Vespa always made.

"You are late Abang Zaed!!", Rozza tried to sound cross as she walked toward Zaed and hugged him tightly."I knew you will somehow still be waiting. I just knew it", Zaed said while squeezing her hands. "But I could have sworn I heard your voice when I called your home!", Zaed sounded suprised. "Are you a ghost?" Zaed joked as he poked Rozza on her arm. "Its my sister lah. We sound the same over the phone. Even my mum has difficulty differentiating our voice", Rozza comforted Zaed.

That night was one of the most memorable nights that Zaed and Rozza ever had as a couple. The most memorable night was still their wedding day. 10 years and 6 kids later, on May the 4th, 1972, when the flower power and the psychedelic tones of Pink Floyd reigned supreme over the charts, Zaed and Rozza was having one of those rare nights when all of the kids were away at Grandma's place.

Zaed browsed through his vinyl collection before putting on a Bossanova track that reminded the love birds of their courting days. "Can I have this dance?", Zaed extended his hand toward his wife. "Still the Romeo huh my love..", Rozza replied in between smiles as she allowed Zaed to serenade her in their living room.

"Can I ask you something?", Zaed asked like a shy boy. "Remember that night when I had to work late. And the clock said 10pm and you were still waiting at that Siglap Market corner. Why didn't you go home that night? Why did you wait for me? How did you know I would come?" Zaed threw the burning questions at Rozza.

"Because if I had to work late that night...and there was no way I could have reached you, I know that you would have done the same. You would have stayed there and not gone home...You would have waited for me...And I would still come down however late it was, even if its to bask and walk in your footsteps."


Present Day

It's amazing the rate the world is changing. Now it seems everyone owns a mobile phone and hence could be connected to each other at the mere touch of the 'call' button, whatever time it is, however late it is.

Feeling lazy? Call/SMS the person you're supposed to meet and tell them you can't make it because of blah blah blah reasons.

Working Overtime? Call/SMS the person you're supposed to meet and tell them you can't make it because of blah blah blah reasons.


Bad Weather? Call/SMS the person you're supposed to meet and tell them you can't make it because of blah blah blah reasons.


For good or bad, I'm sure the mobile phone has its uses. But with every development or advancement comes a sacrifice. And with this accessibility these telephones bring, it's such a pity that perhaps the youth of today will never ever experience the level of integrity, perseverance and love our parents or grandparents had.

Promises could be made a week before, be it verbally or via writing of a letter and trust these guys to be there at the time stated. Bad weather or not, Overtime or not, Feeling lazy or not, the tendency to shun away from a promise is so much lesser. I for one, shall miss those days.


March 31st, 2007

Zaed passed away suddenly one cold March morning. Rozza accompanied him a day later, leaving behind 8 children and 10 grandchildren.Coincidentally, they are buried beside each other. Till death do us part? Suddenly...I choose not to believe in that either.

Doze Were The Days

Every Kid Has A Right, As Soon As He/She Is Born, On A Name And A Nationality
(World's Declaration Of Human Rights)
- Benetton


Doze Were The Days

Remember when "Getting High" meant swinging at the playground,
When "Protection" meant wearing a helmet.
When the worst thing you could get from BOYS were cooties and the worst thing you could get from Girls was a cold.

Mom was your hero and Dads shoulders were the highest place on earth.
Your Worst Enemies were your siblings.
"Race Issues" were about who ran the fastest or a game of soccer meant Malays VS Chinese

"War was only a card game.
The only "Drug" you knew was cough medicine.
Wearing a skirt didn't mean you were a "Slut".
The only thing you "Smoked" was the tires on your BMX bike.

The only thing that would "Hurt you" were skinned knees.
The only thing that could be "Broken" were your toys &
"Goodbyes" only meant until tomorrow...

Life was so simple and carefree, but what I remember most was wanting to grow up.
And now, all I want is to be a kid again."

- Anonymous

Prom Queen

The graduating students of Temasek Polytechnic can finally rejoice at the end of their perilous 3 year journey of frequently skipping lectures, 5-hour breaks, schoolboy crushes, first kisses, project bingeings, part time jobs for surplus pocket money, formal class presentations, 3-hour breaks, skipping lectures again and again, then the pinnacle final year project and now, the graduating class of 2002.

To commemorate their final sending off, the relevant school committees has planned a lavish dinner & dance at the grand ballroom befitting all manner of royalty at The Fullerton Hotel. The ballroom was transformed with nitty gritty details to ensure a memorable farewell for these hardworking students.

As I placed the programme guide at the centre of each round table, I smiled to the fact that in addition to a 10 course feast, there will also be the formalities of a photograph taking session, a final farewell speech, and to top it all off - a pageant to crown the school's Prom Queen for 2002.

I would very much love to be a spectator for the night, for I fear the embarrassment I'd have to face when all these gorgeously clad girls giggle past me, a simple waiter, and into the ballroom to their respective seats. I worry at the embarrassment of having to serve these fine looking boys and girls who are unaware that I'm only doing this whilst waiting to serve my mandatory 2 years for the country.

One by one, they start pouring into the ballroom, covered in their most coveted looking gowns and suits. Each of them looked trigged and polished with their best hair and new accessories. It was hard for me to concentrate on my job for I was drowned in a room full of 'Greek' muses. I looked left, then right, then left again as these ladies delivered me one knockout punch after another. But of course, I maintained my cool and did my job as professionally as possible.

The event went well as planned and after the entire 10 course feast had been served, us waiters stepped aside as the pageant began. There was much work needed to be done in the kitchen but I opted to stay on at the rear of the ballroom just in case someone needed another glass of water, or whatever issue that was within the jurisdiction of a ballroom waiter at the Fullerton.

Of course, you and me know, that the truth behind me opting to stay on was that I wanted to witness the pageant. Not only to ogle at the pretty looking things, but also to relive my memorable graduation that still lingered in my head though it has already been 1 whole year.

And so the top 5 beauties elect of TP catwalked their way up onto the stage and strutted their stuff to an overwhelming rapture of claps and whistles. I leaned onto the pillar as I scrutinized these babes one by one and it didn't take long for my heart to swallow whatever contestant number 4 had to offer.

The MC went on to explain that the Prom Queen will be crowned not only on her looks but also based on the manner in which they approach the questions posed to them. Once all 5 are done with the questions, the winner will be picked depending on how popular she is with the crowd at that Fullerton ballroom. To put it simply, the one that gets the loudest cheers wins.

I personally thought it was a rather biased approach to the crowning of the Queen for it somehow balls down to who has the most friends in attendance. But oh well, what could a measly waiter ask for and so I just continued allowing contestant number 4 to awe me into oblivion.

MC : Contestant number 1, could you step forward please...

Contestant 1 catwalked to the front portion of the stage to a thunderous applause before making her way toward the MC.

MC : Contestant number 1, could you tell us your name, faculty you are from and the inspiration behind your outfit?

Contestant #1 : Hi....My name is Shariffah and I'm graduating from the School of Business and my close friends are seated at table no 9!!

Shariffah waves in the direction of table number 9 and the girls at that table went bezerk with their shrieking.

MC : Wow, you got alot of friends over there huh. Okay, so tell us more about your chosen outfit today....

Shariffah : Well, as you can see, this red gown is from Chanel, a gift from my dearest Mum especially for this occassion. My shoes is actually from a boutique in Milan and I begged my darling sister to let me have it for the night. What do you think??

Shariffah went on to lament on her hair and expensive accessories but I chose to ignore her as soon as she started blabbering irritatingly like a spoilt brat. My eyes remained fixated on contestant #4.

MC : Contestant number 2, could you step forward please...

Contestant #2 catwalked to the front portion of the stage to an applause a decible less compared to Shariffah's before making her way toward the MC.

Contestant #2 :Hi everyone...my name is Sylvia from School of Design and the reason I chose this sexy black dress is *blah blah blah blah blahhhhhh.

Again I wasn't interested in lousy peppy answers along the lines of how great and how expensive and how exquisite they each looked in their chosen outfits. So again my eyes just went back to contestant # 4.

You see the reason why I'm very much drawn to the goddess that is contestant number 4 was that she effortlessly sweeps me off my feet with her natural beauty. She hardly had on any cosmetic on her flawless exterior. Yet single handedly she manages to pale out the other contestants who had on their Bobby Browns Estee Lauders.

And her dress, was all of just a simple rag looking brown chiffon garment that is wrapped around her dulcet and delicate body, fastened to her left hip via an unusual, unorthodox knot. There wasn't any diamantes or sequins to complement the general outlook of her dress and transform it into something complete but yet she looked breath taking and riveting in my eyes. Perhaps I'm just a simple man that is contented with the humble minimum that life had to offer.

For shoes, she had on a pair of matching brown high heeled leather sandals with straps that crept up her slender legs to form a perfect knot nestled just below her trembling knees. No diamonds, no elaborate designs, no traces of designer wear on contestant #4!

I completely forgot about what contestant #3 had to say but it was along the lines of the first 2 contestants.


MC : Contestant number 4, could you step forward please...

Contestant #4 coyly took small dainty steps forward as she tried to balance her high heels. In between her careful catwalk, she managed to slot in a meagre smile in between balancing her heels, teetering with a potential fall and striking a pose at the front end of the stage before making her way toward the MC.

Judging from the applause garnered, I could tell that she wasn't a crowd favourite. The only notable cheers that she got was probably from her geeky looking proud and faithful friends sitting at the far end of the ballroom at table number 29. Secretly, I clapped my hands so softly that surely only I could hear my undying attempt at supporting my contestant #4.


Contestant #4 : Hello to all in this ballrooom. My name is Farah and I'm from the School Of Design. About my dress (smiles abruptly while running her velvety palms across her hip area). Well my dress, as you can see may not be as ravishing compared to those sharing this stage with me but oh well....I'll let the 4 of them be the Cinderellas for the night for I'm just glad to be a simple Pocahontas...

Her reply blew me away for she effortlessly brushes aside any politically correct answer expected in a pageant.

As expected, it was never a surprise when the majority of the crowd rooted for Shariffah for she was one of the popular 'plastic' girls in the graduating batch of 2002. Nevertheless, my Pocahontas accepted the loss with grace and poise of a swan as she descended the stage and joined her friends at table 29.

The TP students rocked the dancefloor that night for a good 1 hour before the dinner and dance bowed down its curtains with a Lauryn Hill number titled 'Can't Take My Eyes Off You'. I for one could definitely not take my eyes off contestant #4... the deserving Prom Queen for the night.