I strided across the new underpass connecting the now old purple line to the new yellow line at Serangoon. The newly constructed station carried with it a renewed sense of promise, as if we could do anything in this place if we all believed in the same ideals of progress. My mind was filled with Changi airport-esque images of shops in future decorating the otherwise stoic but powerful underpass. The expansion of transport routes has always been a classic indicator of a nation taking strides, and there I was, for a moment unknowingly embodying the spirit of the moment.
I reached the gantries, tapped my card on the scanner, and slid through in an effortlessly rehearsed manner. And then all of a sudden my grandiose-filled vision snapped back as I instinctively jumped out of the way of a baby pram rolling by, momentarily catching me off guard with my head in clouds. It was a dad with two sons pushing another baby boy in the pram. My first thought was, "wow, three boys."
My family is an example of thorns outweighing the roses. I've always had the curious longing to know what it's like to have a smaller sister. While I am well aware that girls have their own dark sides, I also believe that girls provide a calming, civiling presence in any environment dominated by the overbearing aggression of guys. It will always remain a wonder to me what it would've been growing up with a younger sister to care for from a young age - to dote on, protect, watch grow - as well as the advice I would've given her as she gets by those adolescent years. I'm also sure that a daughter would've made my dad a very different man.