ampulets

J: How many years have we been married? Y: Hmmm. I don't know leh. J:  11? Y: *%#... Com'on, it doesn't feel like so long... J: No meh? Y:  ... I know, let me search our blog! I remember there was a post! And so friends, that's what a blog is for. A public archive of sorts for failing memories. And on the occasion of an approaching anniversary, allow me to indulge in revisiting a selection of silliness that arose back when we were trying to be "incognito" on this blog... And an encore, for my favourite watermelon man -

Photo by J - he wishes for us amps to hold hands everyday. Heh. J says I am an diehard optimist. So it seems out of character for me to have a distrust of an optimistic activity, however structured and organised.  A few weeks ago, such suspicion was stirred when a group of old folks were invited to write their wishes for the future, and to float these wishes on inflated spheres in the Marina Bay. Surrounded by the indifference of glimmering skyscrapers and integrated resorts, it was not difficult to start thinking - Com'on, who would fulfil their wishes? For whom do they wish? What difference would this make for their lives, our lives?  Some of the old folks I was chatting with appeared at first a little surprised at the request. Maybe no one had asked them about their wishes for the future before. After all, this was a question more often asked to 8 year olds, it is the young who have aspirations, dreams, a future - there are always wants with the young.  But we sel