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Writing about Evenings and Lights in Singapore

I was rifling through some of my old blogs, sifting through my earlier writing, when I chanced upon this post. At the time I was considering my move from Malaysia to Singapore.
It has been a few months since I have returned after my stay in Singapore, and am back again in Malaysia in familiar surroundings, among friends. I see an older, different “me” in the post and feel amused 🙂
Writing about Dusk in Singapore

Writing about Dusk in Singapore

I think we were staying at The Grand Copthorne or some such hotel, and it was a lonely evening because the husband had some work.
I like watching Singapore light up, little by little, like a shy Oriental bride adorning herself, tremulous, slow, graceful. Night takes its time descending here, but when it does, it does so abruptly, and then the yellow, blue, green lights that had glimmered in the last pale light of dusk are suddenly resplendent. The banks of the tiny river are dotted with lights that fall on the miniscule ripples, little pools of light in a continuous flow of darkness.

I also find this is a city-state fanatic about jogging, young or old, in dry or drizzle. They are there, breathing hard as they pass me while I recline on the cushions.The hotel has tossed a few wooden chairs inside a glass-covered portico on the waterfront, over which the building looms: I can’t see its top when I look up.

I sip at my iced lemon tea, and consider things, try to resolve in my head a knotty project I am struggling with, and find that my brains have become sluggish along with my body. A light breeze breaks out on the river momentarily relieving the tropical, sultry warmth, and I cannot find my last train of thought. I give myself up to watching all these health-concious people whipping past me at a run.

I have swooshed up the lift now, along with a dotty old man who could not figure out how to swipe his card on the lift, and was very relieved when I offered to do it for him.

From my room I can see the traffic jams, all crossings marked by blinking red lights as toy cars glide to a pause. I am afraid of heights, but this view from the room through glass across an entire wall persuades me that living in a highrise apartment may not be such a bad idea after all. In a few months I will be househunting here, and I shall keep that last bit in mind.
Damyanti Biswas

Damyanti Biswas is the author of You Beneath Your Skin and numerous short stories that have been published in magazines and anthologies in the US, the UK, and Asia. She has been shortlisted for Best Small Fictions and Bath Novel Awards and is co-editor of the Forge Literary Magazine. Her literary crime thriller series, the Blue Mumbai, is represented by Lucienne Diver from The Knight Agency. Both The Blue Bar and The Blue Monsoon were published in 2023.

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