rocking chair

"gong gong!"

haha, he used to come on Saturdays or Sundays.
and we'd just do the usual greetings.
hardly talk to him.

"gong gong, you like the lunch?"
"orh, orh..."

i remember the gentle voice.

then he would slowly semi-limp to the landing chair, and put on his shoes.
then we shout "bye, gong gong!"

sometimes, i'd come back from bb and see him, as usual in the rocking chair.
right beside my dad, discussing his recent purchase of jewel rings.
and hearing my dad rant about what people do in Lorong Lew Lian.

i always didn't see much of him when i came back from bb.

he gave me a fine watch once. Oxford.
i, not being the watch type, never used it.

A few days ago, I took out that box, blew off the dust, and revealed the watch inside.
It had stopped working.
Just like how gong gong's heart had, on 15th May, 5:01pm.

I set the time on that watch to 5:01pm.
Its hands never move again.


it's strange how a man can just be reduced from a physical entity, to just a pile of broken bones and ash in an urn.


it's strange how you have reccuring memories of a person, when you realise you won't have any more.


it's strange, how, even with few words, we felt so close to our grandfather.


it's strange how we used to take Sundays as normal days where we'd see the same quiet man

come and go,
come and go,
come and go...






and never come again.













all too suddenly.













and sometimes, i still miss him.