THE STATE OF HAPPINESS (2001)

It was to be another rudimentary visit to Buchanan’s grandpa’s house. His Mom, Celia Lau, usually go a-visiting Grandpa Wan unless she has other engagements on Saturday evenings. As for Buchanan, he finds some usefulness in driving his Mom there in the family car -- a Mitsubishi Chariot, and in helping to carry whatever barang-barang they may be bringing along.

This evening they brought along three styro-foam packages of Thai durians, which were on offer for ten dollars at a make-shift stall outside a dried-goods shop in their neighbourhood. Whenever they can, they would bring something or other that they think Grandpa Wan might fancy. Sometimes it was just a matter of returning pots from a previous meal prepared by Grandpa, or tools borrowed by Buchanan for some do-it-yourself hankerings at home.

Buchanan’s grandpa lives in a HDB three-room flat by himself. The drive there took only about half an hour. Grandpa Wan has delved into cooking since his retirement some five years ago at the age of sixty. He is now able to select the most suitable of ingredients with sharp eyes, knowing touches and fussy sniffles borne from experience. His ingredients for meals are prepared and treated with due attention to cleanliness, conciseness in cuttings, balance of taste and colour, and to the type and duration of cooking techniques. Everything is done with a deliberate inner motivation.

 “The steamed mushroom with kai lan are fabulous, Grandpa,” Buchanan said.

 “Eat more. There is plenty. Try the steamed pomfret with olive oil and ginger sauce. It’s my new recipe.”

 “Dad, your cooking tastes really good,” Celia said. “And, healthful too.”

 “When is Charles coming back, Celia?” Grandpa Wan asked.

 “Next Friday.”

 “Come again next Saturday. I will cook some pepper crabs, venison tender cuts and watercress soup for you guys.”

 “We certainly will!” Buchanan said.

Buchanan topped up his Mom and grandpa’s porcelain bowls with more rice before topping up his own. The food was tantalizing and complemented by the steaming, pearl-white Thai fragrant rice.

 

After the meal, they followed through with the durians. Grandpa Wan helped himself to the durian offered by Celia.

 

“Great taste! I could smell a tinge of alcohol here,” Grandpa said.

 

 “Glad you like it. We only brought three,” Celia said.

 

 “I wonder what can I cook with durians,” Grandpa Wan ventured. “How about durian with popiah crepes?”

 

 “You try first,” Buchanan said. Grandpa was enthused and said he would give it some serious thought. Celia did the washing up while Grandpa Wan and Buchanan remained at the dining table. Grandpa Wan poured some more of the hot chrysanthemum tea for Buchanan.

 

 “Tell me Buch, what are you teenagers getting into nowadays before going to National Service?”

 

 “Fighting boredom and earning some pocket money so as to enjoy life.” Buchanan said while grinding his right index finger against his right thumb. “No money, no enjoyment.”

 

 “Time has not change. Money talks. Right, Celia?”

 

 “Ya, but we were tougher then.”

 

 “Oh, yeah?” Buchanan said.

 

 “What about my time? We have to take a gamble with our lives on the long sea voyage from Canton,” Grandpa Wan said.

 

 “Wait till you here this. You know Ralph, right, Ma?”

 

 “Ya. His Dad is an ex-Police officer who is now working at the Prisons Department.”

 

 “Right. And his Dad is going to put him on a programme.”

 

Grandpa chuckled and said, “With his kind of background, he can make a good trainer.”

 

 “The programme works like this. For the first month, trainees will live like prisoners. Lousy food, rationed sleep, lightning showers, daily chores, lots of physical exercises and imposed silence in public areas. Objective is to learn what is truly essential in life. No extravagance and frivolous stuffs.”

 

 “Do real prisoners ever learn anything?” Celia asked as she joined them at the dining table.

 

 “Dunno, but I think they do. Second month – trainees will undergo an express nursing course and be assigned and rotated as observers with special passes at Intesive Care Units, Accident & Emergency Departments and operating theatres.”

 

 “Whaa, so serious,” Grandpa Wan said. “What if they faint?”

 

Celia pursed her lips.

 

Buch remained unfazed and said, “Then, his time will be extended by another week. He or she must not fail.”

 

 “For the third month, …..”

 

 “Wait, wait, wait... not so fast,” Grandpa Wan said. “Objective for the second month?”

 

 “To know the value of life by eating healthful meals and avoiding harmful foodstuffs, by exercising regularly, and by being cautious of the hazards and dangers around us.”

 

 “Ok, go on.”

 

 “For the next objective, the candidate will learn the sanctity of life.”

 

 “So cheem,” Celia said.

 

 “He will learn to write a will, and be seconded to a casket company for understudy in embalming and funeral services with hands-on.”

 

 “This is a tough one,” Grandpa Wan said. “Not the will-bit but the funeral-chunk.”

 

 “Got some more?” Celia said.

 

 “Nope, unless the examiner flunk him, in which case, the greenhorn will re-visit his weak stages of the programme.”

 

 “Do these candidates graduate?” Celia wanted to know.

 

 “The word is: release. When their performance meets the minimum expectation of the examiner, they will be released to seize life and make the most out of it. For sure, life will never, ever, be the same again for them. They will learn what is thankfulness and happiness.”

 

The threesome remained silent for half a minute or so, while the KDK wall fan spun, spanned and rattled on.

 

Brave words came from Buch. “I'm signing up.”

 

 “NO. You ARE NOT,” Celia said as she put down her glass on the table and stood up with a scowl on her face directed intently at Buch.

 

 “Celia, I think he is pulling our legs.”

 

 “Are you, son?”

 *** THE END ***