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My last memory of Singapore consisted of Darren Chew, Yao Wen and Bryan Loke holding a boombox that played the theme from “Golden Power”, walking solemnly behind me as I headed for departure to the U.S. The scene is still vivid in my mind, though bizzare and dreamlike, as any scene involving Darren Chew ought to be. It was a send-off that befitted an emperor – one that I hardly deserved. From my room in Cambridge I had awaited the moment of coming home for some time now, wondering if the same thing would be repeated when I got back in December, though in reverse sequence.

It was, of course, entirely unreasonable for me to expect something like that. But the gathering of people that day embodied the Singapore I remembered, and the Singapore I hoped to return to. As I landed at Changi though, it took me some time to realize that I was not returning to life exactly as I had remembered in 2010, frozen and unperturbed by time. I was returning to real life, thirty months later.

In reality I should have little to feel wistful about. Most, if not all, of my friendshsips remain, though some adjustments were to be made. People changed. During earlier years most of my childhood and teenage friends had a confidence and easiness about them, a defiance towards life. But it seemed life proved larger, more savage. Where defiance once existed, caution took its place; where carefreeness was, now an ambition to seize life and to master it, even if it meant following everyone else. As the local the proverb goes, Gary finally grew up.

Adjusting also involved a geographical dimension. From living at Balmoral Road, this was my first time staying at the new house in Pasir Ris. It’s a pleasant, quiet location, though I do miss the short commutes and the sound of paws on the door. This winter, I realized, was also the first time I’ve been back to Singapore without my parents around. Like true adults, my siblings and I planned the Christmas meal together without the usual behest of my mother. It was a lovely meal, though a strange feeling lingered at the end. At first I assumed it came from eating too much of my brother’s pasta, though I later realized it came from within myself, a voice that said:

“I am my own man now”

So maybe that’s been the biggest adjustment I’ve had to make yet. Not the difference in friendships, or getting re-accustomed to a new home, but having to come to terms with a changed self.

It’s not really that I’ve come back to a different Singapore, but a different me has come back to the same place.