1945 the war begins
Roads unfold
Gone with the old
Strive for gold
Future behold
But resilient is the old
At Tiong Bahru Road

A rustic magic exudes
That a fresh coat of white cannot hide
A subtle rhythm pulsates
That modernity’s violence cannot silence

And within a forest of
glass towers and steel facades
One finds a fragment of the past
A piece fallen out of a time capsule
At Tiong Bahru Road

Architecture is contented
And forgoes the floors above four storeys
Traffic is contented
And forgoes red lights at roads junctions
Staircases are contented
And forgoes the convenience of lifts

How, then, can the rest of the city
Be contented?

I guess it’s time to write something about the country I am from.

I am a Singaporean, living an a bustling estate in the center of Singapore. I like to explore the nooks and crannies of this city state. So a few days back, I visited Tiong Bahru Road, and it gave me an inspiration to write this poem. 

Tiong Bahru Road is a rustic place, as if left behind by the rapid development in areas all over Singapore. It is deliberately preserved as it contains many historical treasures. The inspiration came when I was having cupcakes and tea in a cafe in the area. And I am contended with life, there and then.

If you are interested to know more about the place, I have done up another blog post under Fragments: Tiong Bahru Road.

Image: taken on 27 Sept 2017 at Tiong Bahru Road


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