"Oh, it's terrible. The API is close to 300!" lamented an old school chum in our Group Chat.
"Ya - right. 300!" I thought as I remembered the time when the API hit 501 in the mid 90s when we were posted East.
A State Emergency was declared. Schools were closed. I remembered how thick the air was when we drove on the deserted streets at 7 in the morning.. The lit neon street lights (typically unlit at this hour) gave the air a sick orange hazy appearance. If I hadn't known any better, I would have thought that the day was coming to an end for it looked like the dimmer half of twilight.
The radio deejays advised all listeners to drink more water, cover all windows with wet blankets and to stay indoors in air-conditioned rooms.
That turned out to be fun, in a sick way. The house at our disposal at the time was a 6 room semi-detached two storey brick building with a private orchard. We were out-numbered by the lizards and earthworms. The backyard descended a gentle slope to a little metal gate at the bottom. The trees planted in this private orchard were one durian tree, one rambutan tree and at least 3 or 4 mango trees. Other trees could not be identified. I was pretty sure I did not have enough wet blankets or towels to cover all the windows in this house so all we did was to confine ourselves to our bedroom. Next to the TV was a writing desk and to the left of this desk, we pushed in our desktop PC which was unplugged from the study downstairs. There wasn't any room for a dining table so we ate wherever we sat. Have you ever dined in your bedroom? It was fun, in a sick way.
And then, there was Caligula. I was fond of historical fiction (I still am) and was wont to purchase any books or VCDs (which was the rage back then) covering this genre. Hence, it was without hesitation that I bought the VCD which had a picture of a Roman Emperor on its cover. I surmised that the name of the Emperor was Caligula. My six year-old boy and me were dining inside the bedroom when I popped the VCD into the CD-ROM drive. I was jolted into action after a few second's pause. The VCD was pornography in its graphic form. I wasn't sure how much my son saw during the few seconds of inaction but it was enough for me to quietly dispose the VCD.
Schools were closed for a couple of days so I took my son to work.
"The water is contaminated! There is an epidemic which the government is not telling us about," cried Mr Gan (not his real name) on the following morning as he delivered our beverages. Now Mr Gan had a network of informers who breakfasted every morning at his food outlet, trading gossips, current news and intelligence.
Earlier that year, he had gained a little credibility when he explained why my son was able to register in a coveted school near my office while a colleague's daughter was denied entrance. It was the government's policy to reserve ten seats in all schools for transfer cases like ours. We were not privy to this bit of information.
"Did you notice that the water is salty?" continued Mr Gan. "They have added salt to the filtered water. Why would they do that? To disinfect the water, that's what's what! There is an epidemic and they are hiding it from us!"
This changed everything. We took time-off from our work, rushed to the supermarket to hoard (Yes, hoard) bottled mineral water by the crates. The rumor went viral. By the following morning, there was an acute shortage of bottled mineral water in the entire state. On the third morning, the State Government issued a press release.
The dam had burst causing sea water to flow into the reservoir. This explained why the tap water was salty. The State was not encumbered by any epidemic.
While we ... we were encumbered by crates of bottled mineral water sheepishly hoarded without a shred of remorse.
The haze was pretty bad this morning. At the Group Chat someone was talking about the orangey hazy hues.
Did I tell you about Caligula?
The radio deejays advised all listeners to drink more water, cover all windows with wet blankets and to stay indoors in air-conditioned rooms.
That turned out to be fun, in a sick way. The house at our disposal at the time was a 6 room semi-detached two storey brick building with a private orchard. We were out-numbered by the lizards and earthworms. The backyard descended a gentle slope to a little metal gate at the bottom. The trees planted in this private orchard were one durian tree, one rambutan tree and at least 3 or 4 mango trees. Other trees could not be identified. I was pretty sure I did not have enough wet blankets or towels to cover all the windows in this house so all we did was to confine ourselves to our bedroom. Next to the TV was a writing desk and to the left of this desk, we pushed in our desktop PC which was unplugged from the study downstairs. There wasn't any room for a dining table so we ate wherever we sat. Have you ever dined in your bedroom? It was fun, in a sick way.
And then, there was Caligula. I was fond of historical fiction (I still am) and was wont to purchase any books or VCDs (which was the rage back then) covering this genre. Hence, it was without hesitation that I bought the VCD which had a picture of a Roman Emperor on its cover. I surmised that the name of the Emperor was Caligula. My six year-old boy and me were dining inside the bedroom when I popped the VCD into the CD-ROM drive. I was jolted into action after a few second's pause. The VCD was pornography in its graphic form. I wasn't sure how much my son saw during the few seconds of inaction but it was enough for me to quietly dispose the VCD.
Schools were closed for a couple of days so I took my son to work.
"The water is contaminated! There is an epidemic which the government is not telling us about," cried Mr Gan (not his real name) on the following morning as he delivered our beverages. Now Mr Gan had a network of informers who breakfasted every morning at his food outlet, trading gossips, current news and intelligence.
Earlier that year, he had gained a little credibility when he explained why my son was able to register in a coveted school near my office while a colleague's daughter was denied entrance. It was the government's policy to reserve ten seats in all schools for transfer cases like ours. We were not privy to this bit of information.
"Did you notice that the water is salty?" continued Mr Gan. "They have added salt to the filtered water. Why would they do that? To disinfect the water, that's what's what! There is an epidemic and they are hiding it from us!"
This changed everything. We took time-off from our work, rushed to the supermarket to hoard (Yes, hoard) bottled mineral water by the crates. The rumor went viral. By the following morning, there was an acute shortage of bottled mineral water in the entire state. On the third morning, the State Government issued a press release.
The dam had burst causing sea water to flow into the reservoir. This explained why the tap water was salty. The State was not encumbered by any epidemic.
While we ... we were encumbered by crates of bottled mineral water sheepishly hoarded without a shred of remorse.
The haze was pretty bad this morning. At the Group Chat someone was talking about the orangey hazy hues.
Did I tell you about Caligula?
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