I am thinking about freedom. Not about marching on the street shouting or running about throwing stones. It is about the feeling you get when you are released after a period of confinement.
At the time I was called up to do NS, we the recruits were not allowed to leave camp during the first few weeks of our BMT. On Sundays, those who wanted to go to church would be taken in a military truck to a dispersal point in town from where they would go their different churches. They would have to report back at the DP at a certain time.
I still remember the first weekend when we were allowed to go home. My friend and I took a bus to Chinatown for dinner. We sat at an open-air hawkers’ center. It was dusk, crowds were walking along the road, neon signs started to light up and there were advertisements on two big billboards on the wall of the building near where we sat. I had this happy, comfortable and thankful feeling.
The weekend was spent at home. Waking up and then lazing around on the bed till 9am was a luxury. For the first time in days I didn’t hear the dreaded word ‘Fall-in’. The home-cooked food tasted more delicious, even the plain cold water was tasty and refreshing.
I began to value ordinary things I had taken for granted a bit more.
1 comment:
As with most things in life, some people don't treasure things until they lose it. It is the same with freedom.
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