Don't mind me as I ramble on about mindless things! ^^

Jane. Child of GOD. Slacker medic. Part-time 'housewife', full-time watcher of dramas and variety shows. Ex-handbeller, occasional cellist, casual pianist. Who knows what else?

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The sky was baby blue and the sun was beating down on us as we made our way across the bridge. There was a familiar, yet foreign feeling to this latest trip to Sentosa. It may be the same place, geographically speaking, but it was not the same island I visited a few years ago. That island has now been relegated to a part of my memory, along with the other places around this red dot that have been 'sacrificed' in the never-ending chase for more development.

Sure, the new Resort World Sentosa looks mighty impressive and I'm sure Universal Studios (and the casino) draw in plenty of tourists, but it strikes a dissonant chord in my memory. The ferry terminal is the 1st image that comes to mind when people mention Sentosa, so I was a little taken aback by the changes I saw.

VS









And while I appreciate that the monorail is now airconditioned, a small part of me misses the times when one can feel the leaves of the trees brushing past one's face along the way. Or even the times during school outings to Sentosa when people could throw things at each other between the carriages. Those were the days.

Maybe these nostalgic pangs only hit me when I realise parts of my childhood are slowly being erased to make way for more impressive structures that would be integral in the memories of the future generation. How many of those born in the 90s would remember that before Marina bay was developed, it was an awesome place for flying kites? Much better than Marina barrage, especially since there was more place to run around without the fear of tumbling down the rooftop of the barrage. And for fellow MGSians, who would remember that the building was painted pastel pink, yellow and blue instead of the institutional grey colour? How about the random playgrounds, the pink steps, the nearly unplayable canteen piano, so on and so forth. They are all gone now, living only in the memories of those who experienced them firsthand.

As the sound of the last KTM train passing the Bukit Timah area fades into history, so marks the passing on of many symbols that form a part of my past. "Forget me not," would be their earnest plea if they could speak...

...Don't worry, you all will remain a part of my memory as long as I live. =)

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