Farewell that never was

To Mandai, 40 km. I remember helping to deliver a crate of oranges to him just before Chinese New Year in the early 1990s. Yesterday, former President Wee Kim Wee was cremated. Today, I cycle to the columbarium in black and white to pay my last respects. But that was not to be; there are so many blocks and so many with flowers, I don't know where to go. Unlike the usual Chinese cemetary, the columbarium, with the sound of gurgling water, feels peaceful. I don't get to say goodbye and reluctantly cycle away in the night. The first time I went to a president's funeral was in 1981; Dr Benjamin Sheares' sister had taught me. He was an old boy of the school too. As if my weekend isn't bad enough (I work tomorrow), I get chased by dogs too.