Cradle’s Regalia

I bend down to tie my shoelaces twice,
Adjusting my dark trusted shades as I look behind,
Casting a shadow in the light that begins to fades thin,
I stare at the worn chains on my hands.

The moment when the clock strikes twelve.

A figure stands judging me,
From behind the looking glass,
It stands firm showing no fear,
It beckons at me,
Mocking.

The energy flows from my eyes.

I pick up the smoothed brick of my wasted time,
I look up at the sky and roar,
Bearing down the brick in my hands with all my weight,
As I fall to my knees I close my eyes.

I hear the breaking chains as I stand up.

The figure begins to scream,
I pull my hand backwards,
And with all my effort I send it forth,
Smashing through the glass.

It is done.
-Breaking the record’s song.

I close my eyes, as if from a view of a camera going 360 degrees around me, in one quick cinematic, from toe to head. With the wind blowing in my hair and me stretching my hands forward, there it is, freedom in form of a plaque, a thank you and the return of my identity card. The current record is broken, its time to play the next one. This record’s done.

And here I am sitting down, listening to music through my earphones and typing away, thinking about the two years have come to pass, from the moment I sat down in the chair and they took my identity, to create a new generic one, which crumbled within minutes of taking it, only to leave my real persona behind, It never touched me thoroughly, I don’t it would have changed me at all even if it were even more, but it did give me an insight to how many people actually were broken by the army so long ago. An old age ritual that many Singaporeans have and will continue to go through. A rite of passage of sorts, that only Singaporean men have the chance to understand because they went through it. Women have their own, and their first rite of passage as women starts way earlier than us in a certain way, I guess most would understand I mean, a nice way to call it, would be the crimson moon. It something men will never get a chance to understand, women might have the chance to experience what we get, if they entered the army and actually shaved their head. But I don’t think anyone has done it yet in Singapore army.

From the island camp to the hill of officers, it was a great change of scenery and not to mention location. The very entrance of Safti was something to behold, a smooth giant wall with the logo of Safti on it, the home of the officer cadets. Perhaps the most beautiful camp (People often argue with me to insist that I call it an institute, but it’s easier for me to just call it camp) in all the Singapore armed forces. It has a terraced garden that leads from the main OCS building down several flights of stairs down a hill to the cookhouse, that eventual brings you to a pond that is filtered from a fountain that is filled with many coy fish and two beautifully groomed trees on each side that grow on carpet grass. If it wasn’t a camp, it would have made an amazing resort.

The record has stopped playing, the music is finished, no need to run around scrambling for a chair anymore, no more calls in the middle of the night asking about military work, keys, information. Its time I put a new record on to play, and dance a new dance.

The fog that once was has cleared,
Leaving a vast field that had been left to fallow,
The blindfolded dance in the fog has come to end.

A ray of light hits my eyes as I remove the blindfold,
The music begins to flow around me,
I feel the movement in my feet.

With each sway to the beat I relearn a feat,
Remembering what it is like to believe in myself,
To reach my hand out to grab my dreams.
-The dance of dreams

After much afterthought, I’ve always contemplated what represents me and means the most to me. I thought of objects that represented me, which would be my regalia. Regalia are about someone’s insignia of office that is represented through objects such as shields, crowns, swords or even clothes, I see regalia as the insignia of my persona and true self. I’ve thought, what would be my regalia? Looking at my white oak bokkens, those were the first two objects that came to my mind, do they represent me? The wooden version of the katana, bokkens were meant to for training the art of using a katana without the dangers of a metal blade. The bokkens are aren’t harmless though, the durability of the Japanese white oak and design can be used to shatter bone and even kill, but is less deadly that a live katana that can cut through skin and even joints easily. For many samurai, their lives and spirits could be summed up in these blades, but I know I am no samurai of these times, but rather a Ronin, who is someone who follows no master and is not bound by laws. The Japanese translation of Ronin is “drifting wanderer.”

But are these bokkens truly my regalia? Do they represent me best? That was what I questioned. A close friend of mine would dispute it, saying that I do not represent the honor that is associated with the sword. Much of my skill with the sword is self learnt with guidance here and there from various people, one important thing I learnt was that the main thing about the sword is not simply about striking the sword with one’s hand, but rather, the sword’s power comes from the entire body’s movement, from step to stance and commitment of the move or block. The sword is a weapon that can be used to destroy, but it can also be a weapon that is used to protect, to preserve life. Thus, in using it to protect, you give life in a way. My bokkens represent my desire to protect and strength, they are definitely one of my regalia.

The next object I looked at was my 2003 leather composite converse basketball, which represents my pass passion for basketball, playing basketball recently, I realized that what I learnt from my sword art, could be applied in basketball, the game was simply the ball, it was about the entire ball affecting the movement of the ball. I never had such insight before, thus I would not consider the basketball as a choice of regalia. It was not a representation of me now, but it does represent my past, but its impact isn’t that great in my life. I hope to play basketball more regularly for many years to come, and hopefully reignite the passion within me and my close friends whom I used to play countless hours of basketball with.

The third thing I looked at was my book of poems. It contains my best work, handwritten in different colors. For me to hand write something would mean I truly like it and find it worth the time of me slowly writing it carefully in with maximum focus. The reason being is that I have terrible handwriting due to my hands being unsteady. I could never draw a straight line, and I even have problems drawing a straight line with a ruler. There is always a slight shiver, thus I normally always typed out my poetry, and I don’t write down very often. In order for the handwriting to appear eligible and even look alright, I have to focus very hard to keep my hand steady which often leads to my hand cramping if I were to write for too long. Thus, the keyboard is like a gift from the gods, a precious medium for me to weave my words into poetry, without the strain on my hands.

The cover of the book is a picture of sandman in a gold background, it was given to me by my brother as a Christmas present a few years ago. It’s something I treasure deeply, and it only contains a few poems, although I’ve written more than a hundred fifty (I lost count, this was the number perhaps a year and a half ago.) I only truly liked a few and fewer that I found worth writing into the book. Since the start of my secondary school many years ago, I started writing poetry that was used to express myself, and it became something more than just a simple avenue to express my feelings but an art which I came to appreciate and enjoy. It is definitely something that means a lot to me, and represents my artistic persona, it is to me definitely one of my regalia.

The bokkens and my book of poems are my two regalia, which I treasure greatly and keep with great care. The two items represents two sides of me, one side to protect and to strive to be a better person, and the other to create and express myself.

I say a quiet prayer on my knees in front my blade,
With my hands cupped around the handle,
I bow my head as the tears rain to the ground,
I ask for no forgiveness.

But I ask for the strength to wield my soul with conviction.

There is a chain tied round my waist,
It’s connected to a book of words,
In which represent my the voice of my soul,
It is louder than any word I have spoken.

From which my contemplations of condemnation leap out into reality.

As I wield my blade to protect,
I offer comfort to those,
In my dance of words,
A solemn embrace of the physical and mental.

Giving an ending which is a coup de grace.
-Cradle’s Regalia.

From the edge

Holding onto the rope of a long forgotten sentence,
Where the words begin to fade slowly away,
Knowing that it is now beyond recall.

I’ve smoked the last stub from this pipe of dreams,
Letting it fill my head as the smoke slowly clears,
Where I rest against a cracked wall and look up at the sky.

A drop of cold dew lands on my face,
The drop slowly dripping down,
I open my scarred hand to catch its falling grace.

Evaporating like the evanescence of my dreams as it falls,
Reminding me of how many things have come to past,
How many things that are now long lost.

I close my palm gently on the evanescent drop,
Feeling my heart beating hard in my chest as I press the drop against it,
Breathing in the electric air and taking in the flair.
-Things to treasure.

A final moment in a cold room surrounded by no warmth, and the clock strikes twelve, and so begins the twenty first year of my life. I spent my final hour of last year in an operations room, serving my country one last time.

I pretty much have only two things left to do, say goodbye to my comrades and start the process of becoming a civilian once more. No obligation left to the military, but I guess I still have to serve the country one way another, in different forms, the price of citizenship. Most people who look back at their military service have much memories or memorable experiences, and I guess I’ve had plenty to see, experience and learn. That I am grateful for, though more money would have made life a lot easier. The pay was insufficient, it was enough to survive, but not enough to enjoy. Life wasn’t a luxury.

I can’t wait to go and work for a few months before school starts, actually earn a decent amount of money, meet new people, have a more mixed group of colleagues and add something new to my resume. I hunger for something new, something fresh. With the help of one of my closest friends, I’ll get it. I truly wonder what mediacorp has to offer, and I am up for the challenge to do it well. The next thing on my list of priorities (Besides money making) is to catch up more with my friends and get myself in more active sports. My basketball is kind of soft and underused, a 2004 converse that’s still in good condition, I guess I’ll pick it up once more, time to start with the basics, practicing my dribbling.

Taking a look at what basketball was to me, it was a sport that I took up in secondary school. To be truthful, I was never really good at it, but I enjoyed the sport, it was a lot of fun and I spent much of my secondary school time playing basketball. The reason why I started playing it was because of an anime called slam dunk which inspired me to play it.

Even though I did not have the skill, I made use of fitness to play, my advantage over most players was my stamina and jumping which despite my overweight body then and lack of height, was better than most average players. I’d have to thank my running for that, and crazy squatting and running with 30 to 40kg climbing gear up Bukit Timah hill.

Those were the days, when I pushed my legs all the time. I never trained my upper body much but focused so much on my running and lifting of weight. My legs were double the size they are now when I was sixteen which was the peak of my leg strength and mass. I’d say, I looked weird back then, having legs that were like a body builders with an upper body that looked so unfit. But it was amazing to be able to jump high and handle so much strain then. I felt like I could fly, I felt invincible.

If I were to compete with my younger self in terms of lower body strength, I would lose thoroughly through and through. Thanks to long distance running two years ago, a recent broken toe, lack of regular training during these two years, and more focus on my upper body, I’ve lost much of the muscle and strength I gained during that time. I do hope to regain at least most of that strength back, but with my condition, I don’t know I can ever train as hard as I used to back then. So much for this Clark Kent with kryptonite strapped to his back.

What advantage I do have now, is more knowledge on training effectively. The disadvantage is that I am not as driven as I used to be. I had zeal once, and I’ve lost much of it, I do hope to find it again once more. Till then, I have to rely purely on discipline and my desire to keep on improving myself.

My approach to life now is to follow a list of priorities, and having the discipline to achieve these priorities. Over the last few years, my path of life has changed quite a bit which now requires me to reset some goals in my life in order to know where my focus in life should be. The three things aside from my relations with people are studies, fitness and money, in order of importance, study being the most important.

The reason for this priority is time. Time is something that is most precious, and now that I am twenty, I don’t have a lot of time to waste because I am no longer considered a teenager but more of an adult, thus studies hold a large priority in my life. Fitness goes with my studies now more than ever because exercise will be the school of my study, thus they will go hand in hand.

Money, which is essential for many things, comes in various degrees of importance in terms of requirements. The bare essentials for paying for phone bills, transport and food to the moderate luxuries of clothes, games and entertainment to the extravagance of holidays and fine dining. Right now, before my school starts, I can afford to spend time earning money to perhaps cover some of my moderate luxuries, but it is of least importance because I will have more time than anything else to earn money once I am done studying, and most importantly not wasting time by doing well in my studies to prevent delays.

Looking back, it seems like only yesterday when I was sixteen, starting uni, it was such an alluring concept, early degree, faster than all my peers, even my female counterparts. But it showed my folly and immaturity because I simply scrapped through with what I needed, yes I left the course in decent standing, to get that certificate I surely would have gotten without a doubt, but was that enough? My parents expected more, and so did I, I guess I needed time to think about my life, on what I wanted to do with my life.

I still have the option of returning to uni, but I have found a different path I wish to take, and business is not what I want. My interests lie in sports and if it means going backwards to achieve what I want, I welcome it, because I’ve kind of missed out on experience of pre-uni. A new experience, a lesson to be learnt, a whole new world I’ve yet to touch, and definitely with a more mature mind than I had when I was sixteen. Four years on, with much more room for maturing and growing up still, I feel more prepared and determined to achieve the best. It’s time to spread my wings and fly once more. Free.


Within this river are oceans of unwashed thoughts,
I find myself constrained in these subtleties,
Sometimes I find myself lying down on its bed,
Looking up at the world in a construed view.
-Through the looking glass