Statistically speaking, I am part of a group whose life journey is likely to end when we are about 84 years old. That is how long a person can expect to live up to in a biologically ageing but outwardly ageless Singapore. For me, that is 11 years to extinction. With Covid breathing down my neck, that time may come earlier and I am not looking forward to the last leg of my journey.
As I read the daily reports of more older people dying of Covid, a sense of finality sets in as I realise I belong to a group that is very vulnerable to the virus. More than death – I am learning to embrace it – the loss of freedom to move about, go to my favourite eating place and engage in idle chatter with my kakis at whatever time and whatever place are what bother me.
I didn’t appreciate and value freedom until Covid struck; that was when the restrictions started stifling you and restricting your movements and behaviour.
The slice-of-life stories I hear give me a peek into what keeps Singapore going. What keeps my friends awake and makes them happy, angry, frustrated. One story has stuck. A man in his 40s who was into his third bottle of beer suddenly broke into tears when he started talking about his father, who died of kidney disease.
“I used to clean my father when he was ill….” He couldn’t continue as tears began to flow. He could have been overcome with emotion because he felt that he could have done more for his dad. Or he could be regretting his decision to leave his full-time job in the police force to start his own business, which is suffering because of Covid. I didn’t want to probe, I didn’t want to engage in a conversation. I let him cry.
The coffeeshop conversations give me a burst of energy as we talk about politics, technology, children and grandchildren, the future of Singapore, rising cost of living, Covid… No topic is taboo. Nearly everything is scrutinised.
Sometimes a gem is dropped. How come nobody talks about how our MRT trains and buses can be perfect places where Covid can spread easily and quickly, one asked sending some of us into a thinking mode. The vehicles are fully air-conditioned, people sit or stand closely to each other and practise different levels of safety. Perfect breeding grounds for Covid.
I am — and many of us are — ageing in an ageless Singapore. The city looks younger by the day as roads are dug up, new buildings built, new eateries opened, new condos pushed up.
Some locations look very foreign. Punggol, Woodlands and downtown Singapore look so weird and strange that I just don’t want to go there again. The familiar structures are gone, the buildings just look out of place and the interiors are so frighteningly confusing that you want to rush out once you are inside.
Familiarity is important as you get older. You don’t want to be shocked out of your senses when you go to a place that you knew well and now find foreign.
We live in a squeezed country. The footpaths are narrow and walking on them sends your blood pressure up as those who are in the opposite direction walk two astride ignoring the reality that there is no space for others to pass through. I don’t take such an attitude sitting down; I stop and practically say loudly: Excuse me.
Government car park lots are designed in such a way that trying to park your car there can be frustrating and stressful for us old folk. You have to put all your driving skills at work and your concentration must be tip-top
to park your car accurately. Even then you are not sure if you have left enough space for the next vehicle.
Living in a squeezed Singapore gets to me every day. But ageing in an ageless Singapore, what choice do I have? Maybe setting up a second home in another country. At 73, that is not easy as that second home might be even stranger than Singapore. Malaysia, Chiangmai in northern Thailand, Kerala in India…The debate goes on in my mind as I evaluate the destinations.
PN Balji is a veteran Singaporean journalist who was formerly chief editor of Today and The New Paper. He is the author of the book Reluctant Editor and is currently a media consultant.
The views expressed here are those of the author and do not necessarily represent the views of The Independent Singapore. /TISG