Singapore, Singapore.

J'adore... the feeling of riding the metro, the MRT , down the lines to Dhoby Ghaut, in the evening where its all quiet inside the train, the silent whooshing of sterile office air from the air conditioning and rushing past outside the setting sun in a mist of light drizzle and orange skies over the horizons, the pot of gold past the neat clusters of HDB flats.

Met up with the lads today for dinner at Farrer park - the (ka-toh - scissors??) curry rice (which really ought to have been on my food list - ah what a travesty). It looks like a right mess with curry sauce and some unidentifiable sweet black caramelised sauce (might have been the lo bak sauce - braised pork??), but trust me, it is wonderful. The best things in life often look the worst, another one from my venerable book of quotes.

On weekdays, taxis would disgorge loads of famished office workers (released from their crucibles) at 1 where they would (rush and) squeeze and sweat and drip curry sauce down their shirtfronts. Oh the barley and watercress soup is pretty good too (its separate). The best thing - its affordable at 2.80 Sing per plate - which i had chicken chops, eggs, and veggies. Its a very authentic place - a quintessential kopitiam (coffeehouse) of the 80s complete with red, hard plastic chairs, no menus (theres only one entree, anyway), rude waiters, a stifling lack of ventilation - impotent ceiling fans (probably a blast from the past as well) churning lazily the sultry night air than providing a genuine breeze. Outside the corner-lot shop that spilt out, al fresco by necessity, into the walkways, gleaming business district cars rushed by in the night, the odd KTV hostesses (ahem) sashayed by.

In short, it was great.

Its been 3 years since i went back there - Little India, Mustapha centre, Serangoon.... Still remember some of the places like the Goodwood hotel, the Farrer Park MRT (of course, after one too many sojourns after high school here). So many memories, ahh those days - when we were all young and naive and innocent and everyday was bright and cheerful.

Tonight it felt like old times again - but weird old times - the anomolous fit of past friendships and not-so-past experiences - wandering Chennai and saying namaste in my heart to the Nepalese workers, i greet the divine in you as we walked down the streets around Farrer Park - forgive me, after so long i am still not good with street names. And being cheapskates and sharing drinks from 7-11 along with betting tips (ive quit a long time ago, finding out (too late) that in the long term the law of chance says that we can only be losers) and practising Singlish and reminiscing about those days - along the lines of "that ****er burnt his stock of (dunno what) chemicals for fun in chem pract and filled the whole lab with green smoke".

Yes and i found a dusty copy of Lawrence of Arabia for a bargain price in the catacombs of (smart) consumerism that is Mustapha centre. It reminds me a lot of Chennai.