0630 HRS 12TH JULY 2012

When things fall apart

The centre cannot hold.

What is the centre?

Was it an invisible bond?

Some people call Love?

Was it a creation

of an offspring

the product of?

Or was it

just a means

to an economic end?

And when the end

has exhuasted

its productive usefulness

there is precious

little left

but the joyous

childhood

that fills

the dreaded vaccuum

of our lives

Just what is

the centre?

Is it another

delusion?

Did we create

a life

to live

our lie?

Even if it is

a painful lie

Should it

go on?

What value

does it bring

if we choose

either path

What consequences

does it bring

Can we bear

the cost

of our failures?

Or maybe

the product of our failure

is doomed anyway.

Should I hang around

long enough

to find out?

1800 HRS 13 th May 2012

I was 10 years old,

and an extremely avid reader.

Mummy encouraged reading,

Dad thought it was a sissy activity

for girls and not boys.

Mum would bring me

every weekend

to Lucky Bookshop

at Siglap,

no matter how poor

we were,

she would buy me

a new book.

There was once,

I was in the shop,

I chose this book,

"Adventures of Huckleberry Finn".

The auntie at the shop

said I cannot read this book.

It was too difficult,

and snatched the book away from me

like as though

I tried to steal that book.

I walked out of the shop

looking miserable.

Mum asked why didn't I

choose a book.

I said I did,

but auntie would not

let me buy it

because she said

it was too difficult

for me.

Mum looked at the auntie,

and asked,

which is the book,

my son wanted?

Auntie said,

that book is an American literature classic,

it is too difficult

for you son.

Mum said,

I'm buying that book.

And please don't tell my son

any book is too difficult

for him.

And so I read my first

literature classic.

2300 HRS 20 th January 2012

Happy Birthday Dad,

You would have been

84

You left us

3 years ago

I wished I could tell you

the things you said

the things you did

as a husband

and a father

are so much clearer

now.

There was a time,

we were poor,

you gave every cent

to Mum

who gave you

a measly

weekly allowance

of $15

Once you asked me,

Boon, do you know

how it feels,

I cannot even afford

to buy beers

for my friends?

Sorry Dad

I didn't know then,

I do now.

Mum used to accuse you

of having a mistress.

I actually believed her

and hated you.

I can't believe

how stupid I was.

Mistresses cost money

and $15 was not

mistress money

even then.

I hated Mum

for nagging about money

But you used to tell me

She's not a bad mother

Just a hot tempered one

If you lived the life she lived

You wiould understand.

No matter how bad

money was,

she would always buy

story books for you.

Yes I had more Enid Blyton

and Hardy Boys

than anyone I knew.

Not bad for a

bus driver's kid.

You had to work

2 jobs.

Your school bus business

in the day time,

and as a STC bus driver

at night.

Every night

I would wake up

when I heard your motorbike

pulling in.

I would rush to you

and you would carry me

on your broad shoulders

Daddy Horse Daddy Horse

I squealed in delight.

You would give me

50 cents

and I would immediately

deposit in the piggy bank.

That's your school money, Son

you said.

Study hard.

You needed to overhaul

the school bus engine.

Mum said,

Take the money

from Boon.

We took my piggy banks

to POSB Siglap

I saw the tears

in your eyes

when you collected

the cheque.

I didn't know why

I do now.

It hurt you

like a knife through

your heart

to even touch

my money.

All your life

you just gave and gave

until there is no life energy left

for you to give.

Happy Birthday Dad

I miss you so

1600 HRS 10th July 2011

There's so much fuss these days

about a grandpa

carrying his grand daughter's

school bag.

I suddenly remembered

about the time

I was in Primary 4

at St Stephen's.

We had a school camp,

during the holidays.

Wasn't exactly a camp,

we slept in the classrooms,

on strawmats

on the concrete floor.

Dad sent me

to the school camp.

He saw our

sleeping quarters

in the classrooms.

He hugged me

and said goodbye

Enjoy yourself,

make sure you

eat your rice

and your vegetables.

We were

in the middle of

soap carving class.

I was trying to

carve a school bus

out of that

block of soap.

Dad reappeared,

I got you something Son.

I left it in the classroom,

your sleeping space.

After class,

I went to take a look.

Oh my God!!!

Dad brought me an

8 inch thick Dunlopillo mattress!!!

Sure,

I could hear some teachers,

making comments,

So spoilt,

So pampered.....

Well,

fuck you all.

I think I turned out OK.

Thanks Dad

1800 HRS 3 rd July 2011

I've always hated choke (congee)

No matter how tasty it is

It reminded me of the torment

as a wheezy asthmatic kid

Choke for breakfast, lunch and dinner

Even till today

almost 47

the very thought of choke

makes me sick.

I lived in HK for almost 7 years

During one of my home visits,

Dad said he will treat me

for lunch.

I was sitting in school bus

Where are we going Dad?

Aiya you shut up lah

Dad will take you

to this special place

Confirm you will like one

We went to Joo Chiat

and had chicken choke

I hated every spoonful

it was nice

I admit,

but I hated it

no less.

I came home,

Mum asked,

Where did Dad

take you?

To Joo Chiat lor

Eat choke har

Ya lor

But you don't like choke what.

Mum remembered.

Dad I truly appreciate

your effort

I am Dad now

Dads are

CLUELESS

0200 HRS 21 st August 2010

Slow down my only son

lay down your head

and get some sleep

you only have this

number of hours

in a day

there is always tomorrow

to wake up to.

Slow down my only son

you have your whole life ahead

to chase

all your dreams

always remember

the laughter

you have right now,

and keep it always

in your heart

as you let

Life's disappointments pass


Slow down my only son

some days you'll find

fortune never smiles

and you seemed

to be dealt

one bad card

after another

do remember

when you've picked yourself up

as you learnt to walk

how determined you were

to be on your own

two tiny feet


Slow down my only son

Dad will pick you

whenever you fall

but you do know

it won't be forever.

just take good care

of your mother

as she once taken

good care of you


Slow down my only son

I wished

I'd given you a brother

or a sister

but do not ever feel

that you're all alone

just be still

and hear

the voice of God

close your eyes

in your darkest despair

and you may just see

Dad smiling on you

2100 HRS 15th August 2010

I can hardly believe

its been a year

already.

Where have those

12 months

disappeared to?

Like the fine sand

at Samui,

I thought I had time

in my hand

suddenly its gone.

I was there,

I know.

But somehow,

each moment

was so fleeting,

before I could

fully absorb

the experience

fully laugh

at the hilarious

fully amaze

by your antics

fully assimilate

your entire existence

its gone

only to be replaced

with yet

something new,

leaving me

gasping

and breatheless

wishing I could

playback the scene

in slow mo.

Son,

I sometimes wish

you can slow down

a little,

so Dad can

catch up

with his Fatherhood.

Happy Birthday my boy

2100 HRS 9th December 2009

I've often been asked,

what if my son

chooses to support

Man U?

Made me think back

of watching football

with Dad.

Back in the 70s

Malaysia Cup

at the Kallang Stadium

when local passion

for football

was at its greatest.

60,000 fans

will be yelling ourselves

hoarse.

Our heroes

Quah Kim Song,

Dollah Kassim,

Siak Poh Leong,

Mohammad Noh,

Samad Alipichay.

Or more accurately

my heroes,

not Dad's.

Dad was Pahang born,

he always supported Pahang

I just didn't know that.

He merely joined me,

celebrated

when I celebrated,

consoled me

when I cried.

Until one night,

Singapore was playing Pahang.

We were thumping them

6-0

was the final score.

Each time we scored,

I was in ecstacy.

Until the last goal went in,

I turned to Dad,

to celebrate.

But I saw the look

on his face,

it was the look

of a broken man.

6 goals was even too much

even for that big man

to take.

I was too young

and stupid,

to know that

with each goal

it was like

a knife got stabbed

in his heart.

So if my son

were to support

Man U,

I will join him

and celebrate

his happiness,

be there for him

when he cries,

because

his happiness

will be my happiness,

and his tears

will be my tears,

even though

it can really hurt

sometimes.

Afterall,

we in Liverpool say,

YOU'D NEVER WALK ALONE

2300 HRS 6 th November 2009

I think

it was in the early 70s

or late 60s.

My uncles and older cousins

would come over

on weekends

on their motorbikes.

Bell bottomed jeans,

their girlfriends

hugging them tight

as pillon riders

one hand holding

an acoustic guitar.

Dad had this old hifi

that looked like a giant

cupboard,

flip up the top

and there's the turntable

inside.

The speakers were

built into

that cupboard.

They will be sitting

outside at night

behind PAP Siglap Kindergarten

drinking Tiger beers

with ice.

Dad will be blasting out

his favourite music,

from Beatles

to Led Zeppelin.

I knew every single song.

After several drinks,

without fail,

Dad will yell at me,

and I will reluctantly

walk over.

Tell uncle what song is this???

I would mutter out

Soldier of Fortune lor

And they will all roar

in laughter

at this screwed up

6 year old kid

2200 HRS 6th November 2009

I was in CJC

an angry young man

listening to Bob Dylan

and Bruce Springsteen.

A rebel without a cause.

I came home one day

pissed drunk,

reeking of booze

and smokes.

Mum went ballistic.

Dad said to her

let it be,

he is a young man.

Just how is he

gonna make friends

if he does not smoke

and drink

2100 HRS 6 th November 2009

Dad used to love bikes.

He had a 750 cc Kawasaki

in the 70s,

that bike was like

the fastest thing

on the road.

The roar of its engine

was such a pleasure

to my ears.

I was 16 years old

in St Pat's.

One evening,

I announced

to the family

over dinner

I wanna learn

to ride a bike.

Mum went hysterical

Jie nagged on and on

I finally conceded

forget it,

its a bad idea

I'm not gonna ride

a bike ever.

That night,

at about midnight,

when both Mum and Jie

were fast asleep

Dad woke me up.

I asked him,

What is it?

Why you woke me up?

He replied,

You wanna learn

to ride a bike?

Let's go biking now

0800 HRS 4th October 2009

At the break of dawn,

on 29 Sep 09,

Dad was gasping

for breath.

Mum rushed him

to the hospital.

On the ambulance,

Mum remained

by his side

all the time.

Dad gave a loud grunt

his usual way of

calling out for Mum.

Mum comforted him,

its okay, we're going

to the hospital,

see the doctor,

and the doctor

will take good care

of you.

Just a little while more,

you'd be fine.

Dad closed his eyes

peacefully,

and never woke again.

It was his way

of saying goodbye

to his wife

of 51 years.

Up to the end,

the Leader of the band

2000 HRS 3 rd October 2009

You left us almost 3 years ago,

when you became incapacitated,

you could not move,

you could not talk.

You could only eat

via tubes

through the nose.

Breathing

was a momentous task,

as you heaved

each breathe.

I visited you every week

to say hello.

Sometimes it was easy

to forget

you were there.

But you hung on,

for 3 years,

till I told you,

that you have

a grandson

called Van-Dylan Koh Thien An

and I repeated

that his surname is Koh

your bloodline.

I showed you

his photos,

as you stared

with glassy eyes.

When I was preparing

to fly back,

I hugged Mum,

said goodbye

to everyone.

It was easy

to forget

you were there.

I stepped out

of the flat,

and walked down

the corridor.

Something made me

take a look back

to wave goodbye

to Mum,

when I saw,

you were lying

on your side,

staring at me

with those glassy eyes,

this time

tearful.

I dropped my bag

and rushed back

indoors.

Dad, I'm so sorry

I have to go now,

I'm going home

to Bangkok,

to look after

your grandson,

Van-Dylan Koh Thien An.

I kissed your forehead

and said goodbye.

How was I supposed to know

that it would be

your final farewell?

Now when I think back

of the way

you made

our final parting,

it was sweet

it was beautiful.

Thanks Pa,

even till the end,

with whatever little

life energy

you had left,

you still said goodbye

in a way

only you can.

I'm just a living legacy

of the

Leader of the Band

1800 HRS 3 rd October 2009

Not too long ago,

you moved in with me

because you had

a fight

with Mum.

I went to your room,

and said,

you're a husband,

a father,

and a grandfather.

Why can't you carry

yourself

more like a husband,

a father,

and a grandfather?

What a stupid

smartass thing

to say.

You just retorted,

Boon,

you never lived my life.

Stop making judgements

when you never lived my life.

Well Mr Financial Markets Hotshot,

your Dad

who does not read nor write

just shut you up

and taught you

a lesson in life.

1200 HRS 2nd October 2009

I remember the stupid fights

we used to have.

I was a rebellious teenager

and hated talking to you.

I don't know why

it was so hard

to talk to you.

You used to say,

wait till the army gets you.

They will teach you

you will know

how to suffer.

They will teach you

and you will

finally be

a man.

I went to army

and got posted

to demolition.

I saw your face

turn pale

with worry.

As you thought

of me dying

in an accidental

bomb blast.

You spent the next

one year,

talking to friends,

army officers,

even the MP of Siglap

Encik Rahim Ishak,

trying to get me out

of demolition.

I've only got one son

you would tell them,

please take him out

of demolition.

One day I came home

and told you

they posted me out

of demolition

into admin.

You asked,

what happened?

I said

I got downgraded,

I failed the medical.

You grinned,

and said

GOOD

1400 HRS 1st October 2009

We were kids

at PAP Siglap Kindergarten.

We were lining up

two by two

the shortest kids

up in front.

Peng Kwee and I

were in front.

He was a stout

little kid.

I was scrawny.

He wanted to play

ballroom dancing.

He grabbed my wrist

and swung my arm

over my head

dislocating my arm

my elbow

and my wrist!!!

Till today,

I still remember

the blue and black

stripped T-shirt

he wore.

And that worried look

on his face

as I screamed

in pain.

Dad brought me

to this Chinese sinseh

kept reassuring me

it will be okay

very soon.

The Chinese sinseh

fixed me

one dislocation

at a time.

It hurt no less

each time.

Dad was holding me,

repeatedly telling me

I'll be okay soon

and we will go home

and play with the dogs.

I trusted Dad,

and soon

we're back home

having lunch.

I was still sobbing,

Dad said,

its okay,

Peng Kwee was only playing.

He didn't want to hurt you,

he was only playing.

And you know why

he is so strong?

Because he eats

his rice

and vegetables,

thats why he is

so strong,

because he eats

his rice and vegetables.

I gorged at my rice bowl

and stuffed myself

with rice

and vegetables

that day.

Hey Bird,

its been 40 years now,

how about

a little dance?

1200 HRS 30th September 2009

I was primary 4

at St Stephen's.

Afternoon session

another gruelling day

with Mrs Thambiah.

After school,

I ran up the slope

where you were waiting

in your half squat

arms wide opened.

I ran up to you

and you gave me

a nice bear hug.

Kissed my head.

Boy, Mummy got baby already you know?

I looked up at your grinning face

Boy or Girl???

I demanded.

Girl.

The joyful expression

disappeared

from my face.

I pulled away from

your hug,

ran down the slope

to the tuckshop,

wailing

YOU ALL PURPOSELY ONE!!!

I KNOW!!!

YOU ALL PURPOSELY ONE!!!

I could hear your laughter

What a laughter

Nobody laughs

like the way you did,

a whole hearted

from the bottom of the gut

laughter.

I can still hear

that laughter now.

Pa, can you laugh again

for me

just one more time

0200 hrs 30th September 2009

It was

the longest flight

I ever took.

I flew home

to bury my father.

Tears streamed down

my cheeks.

My neighbour asked

is everything ok?

My dad passed away

this morning,

he gave me a tissue.

Memories flooded back,

in the drone of the aircraft.

I was at Stephen's.

We were watching some boys

playing a game of rounders.

Pa I want to play.

He walked up to the boys.

Who is captain of team?

A boy lifted up his hand

My son want to play

let him play.

The boy's face showed dismay

I was barely taller

than the bat.

But you don't argue

with a grown up

in Ray Ban sunglasses.

Just hit the ball hard

and run to where that boy is.

He pointed at 1st base.

We were losing.

We had boys

at 1st base

2nd base

and 3rd base.

I was the last batsman.

Boon, hit the ball hard

and run!!!

The ball came flying in,

I swung the bat.

Was not even close.

This is becoming silly.

I never played this game before

and probably never will again.

The ball came flying in again,

I missed again.

Boon, hit the ball hard

and run!!!

This was my last chance.

The ball came flying in again,

I swung my body

and the bat connected sweetly.

The ball flew across the field

towards Siglap Primary.

Boon RUN!!!

I dashed towards 1st base.

But dad was still yelling

The boys were squealing

in a way only primary boys could.

I was confused.

I thought I did as I was told.

Boon RUN!!!

He pointed at 3rd base.

I ran again

towards 3rd base.

The boys squealed.

NO!!! 2nd base!!!

The ball was so far

I had the time

to run from 3rd base

to 2nd base.

The sound of his joyous laughter

rang in my ears,

as I made

my home run.

I was the hero.

More importantly,

I was Dad's hero

for that precious few seconds.

Dad taught me

never to doubt

Hit the ball hard

and run.

A few years later,

I was more interested

in football.

I could shoot

with both feet.

And over 10-20 metres

no kid could outrun me.

But I was one third

the size of

Jerome Aeira.

Dad bought Mr Sheperdson

some drinks.

And Mr Sheperdson

asked me to train

with the school team.

Naturally I never made it

to the first team.

But training with the big boys

was blissful enough.

And Dad knew it.

He never allowed

my lack of height

or stature

to handicap myself.

When I was in Primary 1,

a bigger kid

slapped my ear.

When Dad came

to pick me up

after school,

I was tearful.

Boon, who bully you???

He bellowed,

in that loud resonating voice.

I shooked my head

in defiance,

looking out

of his van's window.

He held my little hand,

tell me who bully you???

I walked hand in hand

with Dad,

sobbing openly now,

and pointed out that kid.

You bully my son???

He left me alone

after that

never saw him again

after PSLE.

36 years later,

in his hazy state of dementia,

he whispered to me

Boon, who bully you???

Then it suddenly became clear

His entire life

was spent protecting me

even in his frail later years

he remained crystallised

in his protective ways.

He used to bring the family

to Palm Beach Bedok

for seafood.

He would just serve us,

as we devour the food.

He would only eat

some fried rice

and beers.

All his life,

he wanted to provide.

He reckoned

by not eating,

there would be more

for us to eat.

Watching us enjoy

was enjoyment enough

for him.

Dad, you gave and gave

till there was no more life energy

left in you.

Giving to your family,

was your entire being.

My greatest achievement

in Life

would be the father

you once were.

My greatest failure

would be otherwise.

Rest in Peace Dad,

I love you always