Sunday, March 1, 2015

My Father, My Home.

Having been travelling "quite a bit" (like at least once a month to places like Russia, Japan, Korea, USA, Vietnam, Indonesia, Malaysia, Thailand, Italy, just to name a few) around the world these past years, I've come to seriously appreciate, what a big difference our tiny Singapore had to not be wiped out into oblivion.

The difference was... in the generations before i was even born, when the world was in turmoil with rebuilding after the WW2, with communists threatening to dominate our region, with the cold war btw 2 big powers, with so many so many uncertainties...  Our difference was, we have Mr Lee Kuan Yew and his team, and our pioneer generation of Singaporean. All whom without, we would really be very "game-over" long time ago.

I had seen many countries with more natural resources, more intelligent leaders, more hardworking people, more favourable conditions; struggling with many issues that we take very for granted here in Singapore. Even in the present "peaceful no communists" days like now, many are facing very basic necessities issues.

Just my personal opinion. If one have what it takes, to take up the responsibility, to ensure those he cares for, have jobs,  have homes, have an education, have a place to build a family and keep safe... he has my utmost respect and love. Like a father in a way...

Like my father, who despite the fact that he can choose to live a "life of freedom". He can choose to not work the long hours to support the family. He can choose to spent the money which belongs to him on more luxury items,  on more tour around the world, etc.

He do not owe it to me to need to spent his money and time and effort to ensure I am who I became... which he did, bcoz he is my dad. His blood flows in me, so maybe somehow that makes him "obligated".

Thus, it is all the more hard, for someone who is not even related in anyway, to do what a father would do. Not for one child, but for a whole generation of children for the entire nation.

Like most fathers in early generation, love and hugs and sweet nothings are not part of the "father's package"... the usual package is harsh discipline, more harsh discipline. But nonetheless the commitment and love is no less. I am thankful for this harsh discipline, it takes much more of a father's love to be harsh, then to be nice and "care bear hugs" type of love.

No one likes a harsh father, he becomes the most hated enemy number one in my life for many many of my earlier years. I would never know the true value of this harsh discipline if I had not went outside Singapore. If I had not been able to compare and see out of what I had taken for granted for in my tiny Singapore.

It is tiny. But it is my home. A safe home. Where I can be who I want to be, without having to worry that the color of my skin or race would disadvantage me from getting a full education and job opportunities, without worry of death and danger from corrupted government and police.

It is a very comfortable home. And I thank my father.... and our many fathers... and the father of our nation Mr Lee Kuan Yew. For the commitment to our future, in the generations before me. Whatever is done right or wrong, it is done for the intention to provide us for a good and better future.

So one should truly keep quiet if u do not agree with all matters the previous generation did. Just like you do not agree with all matters your parents done, they are still your parents. And it does not kill to keep the negatives words to yourselves. What good would those negative words do?

Everyone's life would end. And a simple "thank you" for even the most little thing to appreciate before he goes...would be a better ending to his contributions to us. You would not know if someone else can do a better job. So just "thank you" and just flush all the negative shit down the toilet into history.

I am nobody’s stooge. 
I am not here to play somebody else’s game. 
I have a few million people’s lives to account for.
— Mr Lee Kuan Yew. At a Press Conference at City Hall, 26th August 1965

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