(the image of gallium in this post does not belong to me. All rights go to the rightful owner and/or designated photographers or designers.)

Part 8

Do you ever get that small, growing irritation from everything and everyone in your surroundings? Or how about when someone is running there hands along a chalkboard like surface? Or the mild tapping of someone abusing their desk while scrawling obnoxiously on a piece of paper in class? Your teacher droning on and on after someone has made a stupid mistake, so they decide to lecture the entire class instead? All of this closing in on you and you feel like you want to rip someone’s hair from the roots, or punch the wall in any direction beside you . Heck, tear someone apart, limb by limb.

Okay that was too far, sorry.

That was the irritation I was feeling when we were still going through various silks and fabrics. Just looking at another piece of cloth would’ve made me want to punch someone.

very aggressively.

Too far, again, sorry.

I mean it really isn’t that hard to just pick out a fabric that someone’ll like. I mean you don’t have to color coordinate everything. But I did love seeing all the fervent colors. Especially the various green hues. Because, if you haven’t figured out already, my favorite color is green. I wandered away from my mom and sister and roamed on my own. My fingers grazed each roll, each one begging to be touched. Shelf over shelf housing coils of fabric. Some rough, some smooth, some so thin they could be the wearable descendants of paper. Some so thick they could be mistaken for smooth tree bark. I ogled mainly over the teals and burgeons, the mesmerizing motion of the silks as they danced with each sudden movement nearby. My mom occasionally asked my opinion with which colors were best and which one would match another.

My little sister was getting fussy in her stroller and a person a mile away could tell this child did not like being restrained. I thought my lips were going to go dry from my multiple attempts of trying to hush the poor baby when, magically, Jagan mama just popped up and scooped up Thulasi as if nothing happened. Thulasi was so used to Jagan Mama’s presence that she just waved me off as if I wasn’t there for a solid five minutes trying to calm her down and fruitlessly. preventing a brawl right there in the store.

I guess Jagan Mama has that affect, I even remember Ganesan Mama explaining this to us a couple months back on the train towards the end of our trip(more details on that in future posts). Ganesan Mama described him as being able to kind of just mold in with other people. When he said that my mind instantly wandered to one of my favorite elements on the Periodic Table of Elements-

gallium.

On the Periodic Table, Gallium is placed near the group of non-metals due to it being a poor conductor when in a solid state. It also holds unusual properties and according to chemicool.com(this post isn’t sponsored by the way)it “expands when freezes” But gallium still holds similar properties to metals such as thallium, indium, aluminum, and so on and so forth. But what I find so fascinating about this element is that it can be frozen into any shape or form when in its liquid state. Here is an image below of what it looks like.

 

(okay it doesn’t actually just float like that but I though the image was cool, okay, don’t judge me)

Jagan Mama and Bala thatha both tried finding the time to be with us as much as possible. And Jagan Mama, well, if he came to the United States, give him about forty-eight hours and he will probably know every single one of my friends by name, acknowledge all seven of my teachers, and probably be running around doing errands for things around the house. He is someone you know you can rely on. Whether it being a a task at hand that needs four hands to be completed, or just some encouragement when you need it.

---

A couple months ago, I didn’t realize how slippery the ground was on the back of my Aachi’s house and I skidded across the course stone. My bottom hit the ground and my legs were practically stuck up in the air; in a weird angle. I felt my face grow hot and my cheeks burned from embarrassment as I got up. I skinned my palms a little, luckily no one  could see. Jagan Mama was already there holding my little sister before I even walked out there, he followed suit but I am never going to forget that look of fear stricken across his face for a split second, before returning to his normal, casual self; on the contrary, constantly asking if I was okay.

Realizing the commotion, my mom rushed over and scolded me for being so clumsy, there were wet scuff marks all over my dress in which my mom and fussed and tugged me towards the main bedroom in my grandma’s house, I chuckled towards her because obviously this is normal for me, I mean I come home from school with at least one or two scratches and cuts and scraped solely because of how clumsy I am. but before I entered the room, I shot Jagan Mama a glance of thanks, because just that look of pure concern and relief already made me feel as if those gashes and cuts were nonexistent.

So lesson for this portion of the post is basically that Jagan Mama is always there for you even in the most tough situations.

Need the wifi password?

He’ll be there.

Need  someone to run and get food or your going to literally pass out from food and/or water deprivation?

He’s your guy.

I think I have proved my point.

---

My dad and Madhavan went somewhere else in the center leaving just us- my mom, Thulasi, Jagan Mama, and me. Don’t get me wrong- I was willing to help my mom find the perfect sari’s for everyone. I mean all I want is for everyone to be happy

But in any other way possible that won’t lower my self-esteem.

And the last few shreds of my dignity.

I mean, I’m not the best person you could go to for fashion advice you know? 

Need to know what are the right types of colored pencils you should use for the undercoat of your final sketch?

I’m your girl.

Need to know what major scale you should play to warm up with based on the time signature of the song your playing?

I gotcha covered.

Want someone to briefly look over a/o edit any piece of written work you need to submit?

I think you already know my answer;

but yeah. I have your back.

You need urgent advice on a specific line of fashion or anything related to the arts of well- style?

Uh, your talking to the girl who basically lives in jeans, and sweatshirts that are five times larger than my actual size so;

n o.

But that day I actually did try. Some of my suggestions to my mom even made her it-list so I think it was okay. Another upside to it all was I found this thick roll of fabric that donned a pattern that looked vaguely like of the Singapore girls outfits.

I instantly fell in love with it because Singapore Airlines is the only airlines we have always flown with and in my lifetime I always remember the most distinct members of the gorgeous and kind faces, those of the flight attendants donned with the name the Singapore Girls. The outfits they wear are long skirts and blouses that hugged each of their curves and I assume are fitted so they look that way. The design itself is called Sarong kebaya and was contrived by a french designer. The contuorer was said to be inspired by the styles of evening clothing women wore in Malaysia. I love the diversity of it and how it represents multiplicity of the other countries as well as how a woman could be perfect just by showing her kindness and an automatic humbleness through her actions. As well as the interactions they make with other people.

Well at least thats what I see.

My dad asked if I wanted to cut a length of it an buy it. I agreed, so my dad told to me call over an elderly man nearby who seemed to be put with the job of any fabrics put on display. I pointed to my selection and he cut at least a two feet or so, his scissors shone in the lights above, the metal gliding through the fabric like the brush of Van Gogh. The blades working together in unison through the fibers of the fabric, leaving little to no hemming behind. As he finished, he took a a small white tag and wrote a number on it, and then he took a contraption-that looked vaguely like a pair of pliers-and clipped the tag onto the freshly rolled fabric. He handed it to me as my dad payed for it at the counter, we both made eye contact and I smiled, he obliged and smiled back, wrinkled forming in the corners of his eyes.

---

Right then I realized just how small I am in the world.

I mean, we are literally only a fragment of the world population- which itself is 7.6 billion people.

7.6 billion.

Coming to Singapore made me realize that the world isn’t as small as it seems, though others may beg to differ. I see a new face everyday, crossing the street, driving along the road, running on the track. Each touch with another human being sending electricity through each pinpoint in your body. Eyes, hair, skin, height, gender. All these things, so many similarity, so much diversity. We underestimate just how much power we have when we band together. There is so much out there and it isn’t enough to stay home and watch the world pass by through our peripheral vision.

I live in the third most populous country in the world; my parents and the majority of my family born in the second most- India. I didn’t realize just how small I am to the rest of the rest until now. No, that moment when I was with the man in the fabrics department, when I received rice from that mother and daughter in the temple, when I shook hands with Bala Thatha after three years of separation. When I watched my mother and Jagan Mama hug each other so tight when we arrived; as if never to let go. Each with tears running down their cheeks and I trying vivaciously to blink my own away and calm my quivering lip until it was I who was trapped in his embrace. Maybe it’s because I’m a bit older, maybe it’s because I have bypassed a phase of my life, or maybe it’s because there are;

360,000 births per day

15,000 births each hour

250 births each minute

Four births each second of every day.

More or less, a year ago, one of those babies was my sister.

About seven years ago, one of those babies was my brother.

About thirteen years ago,

that was me.

---

It’s crazy how small we are.

---

Once we were done in that portion of the ridiculously massive store, it was off to the chocolates. I was kind of curious to see the types of chocolate and candy and stuff they sold because Singapore is wacky and amazing in its own way. But since it was another floor up we had to take the escalator.

And let me tell you something; I think I lost a few pounds because I went on like five or six different escalators about thirty two times each. My mom and I still joke about it even now.

If we talk about Singapore, “Hey remember those escalators?” If we see a picture of a mall “HeY rEmEmBeR tHoSe EsCaLaToRs?!” If we go to some place with escalators, “HEY YA REMEMBER THOSE ESCALATORS AND I ALMOST TRIPPED AND FELL ON MY FACE BUT MY STUPID REFLEXES WERE TO LAZY AND I ALMOST GOT MY FACE FREE PLASTIC SURGERY THAT’LL MAKE ME LOOK LIKE A HUMAN XYLOPHONE YEAH I DEFINITELY HAVE A GREAT RELATIONSHIP WITH MOVING STAIRS OF DESTRUCTION.

And it’s safe to say that I have now developed a unhealthy fear of escalators.

(Actually creating my worst nightmare would technically be more like letting spiders have the ability to fly. But we aren’t doing that and even if someone does they will be skinned alive and fed to Cerberus.)

But no pressure.

When we arrived at the sweets section I literally recognized nothing from back in the United States. I mean over here, candies and sweets are basically a staple. I’ve grown up loving Nerds candies and chocolates(I still don’t understand why there aren’t green Nerds candies but okay)But if you told me to get at least five to ten different sweets and chocolates in that portion of Mustufa; I would’ve given you the most stupidest poker face ever and than run away screaming like a maniac. I was so lost and confused, and it didn’t help that the aisles were so thin and there were so many shelves. There were a lot of brands I wasn’t familiar of, and plus there were a lot of quite peculiar types of candy, like chocolate covered potato chips or Singaporean flag gummy snacks. Some others I didn’t want to associate with like meal worm lollipops. Uh, just the thought gives me this weird feeling in my stomach.

bleh.

My parents were trying to find some gluten-free chocolate bars, and chewy fruit candies to bring to people in India who requested it. We split up so we could cover more ground, but I honestly felt like a toddler going grocery shopping for the first time. I wandered about with my mom, spying some variations of candy and chocolate that I recognized from America. Like white chocolate Reese’s, or hard candies shaped as landmarks around Singapore, like the Merlion. My eyes scanned the shelves for anything similar to what we needed to find, but it was kind of hard to focus on that when there was so much color and new things at every turn.

I found humongous tubs of these hard candies that were fruit flavored and in various colors. I remember always eating them when I came to Singapore when I was younger. I picked up the tub and showed it to my mom with a grin, her own smile reaching her own eyes. I could tell she wasn’t just smiling about the nostalgic candy I had found my little sister grabbing random things her little hands could reach. I looked down and I saw my little sister already carrying a pack of chocolate wafers in packaging the two times bigger than anything she should’ve been carrying.

Here, is a super accurate, exponentially realistic depiction of what she looked like at the moment:

 

Okay this isn’t the best portraiture of my sister but I don’t currently have the equipment to put a drawing directly on the textbox from my drawing app, and you have no idea how much I wish I could just transfer actually paper sketches onto this but I can’t really do that unless I was a student at Hogwarts or something. Or with a scanner, but you all know I’ll most likely be to lazy to us a scanner. OKAY WE’RE GETTING OFF TRACK SO MOVING ON.

---

We finally made some edible purchases on that floor so we decided to go to the souvenir portion of the gargantuan shopping center. I was glad to be in this particular area, mainly because I wanted to get souvenirs for my friends from my trip. Oh but the only way we could get there was- you guessed it- A FLIPPING ESCALATOR. All that was going through my head was you’ve got to be kidding me. Luckily I didn’t have a close encounter with fatal injury that time so it was all good.

When we arrived it was pretty obvious that it was the souvenir shop due to a ton of memorabilia basically screaming SINGAPORE at your face. I immediately noticed the Singapore Girl style dresses and even shoes and purses. The aisles seemed to go on and on, some glittered, some looked too fragile to even gaze upon. I traverse alongside shelves and bins with different little trinkets. Charm bracelets, pens, earrings, key chains, hats, t-shirts. Plates that shone under the lights, painted to decorated to depict different scenery. There were small statues of the trademark Merlion. I saw a wall that was just cluttered with a ton of magnets that literally screeched I ❤︎ SG to whoever decided to make the decision of looking at your refrigerator.

BUT I WAS ON A MISSION.

I Kanmani Harivenkatesh, was going to find the most memorable, elegant refinery of souvenirs that are also very endearing and a representation of the beautiful life of Singapore which as well reflected how much I cared for my dear and darling frien- ooh look keychains!

I had instantly spotted hooks displaying sets of copper, gold, and silver keychains of the merlion along with the well-known ferris wheel- aka, the Singapore Flyer. I thought these were perfect, especially since they came in little packets  as well. I put them in the basket we got when we entered, and started to just roam the aisles. My dad said I could pick out something for myself so I flitted about the shelves, occasionally picking up something that caught my eyes, only to put it back. I kept a hold specifically on these simple gold and silver bookmarks that had different landscaped in Singapore entrenched into the metal. On the backside they had a even written why Singapore was the name given to the island. I decided to purchase these and put them in the basket.

I decided to follow my mother to another section where they sold statues and other adornments and accessories to put around your house. I even found a mini botanical garden made of stone and painted, what I really liked about it though, was that it had water running from little platforms to look like an actual waterfall. When I turned it on it was only a slight trickle, but then it turned into a soft pour. The sound itself would’ve been calming if the little contraption next to me wasn’t singing the most annoying, automated version of Row Row Row Your Boat.

Well, I feel bad for whoever was row row rowing that boat.

My mom ogled just as my I did, pointing out little statues of elephants. My mom and I will fall head over heels for anything related to elephants. Just like me on my own fangirling over anything relating to my own fandoms. I saw that my mom had found reasonably sized statuettes of a flamingo and a peacock, both bedazzled with stones matching their rightful colors. They were both absolutely gorgeous and my face was basically like this; ( ✧ ᗜ ✧ )

but, human.

So we made a ton of purchases there and we were carrying an array of small shopping bags with our purchases bopping around inside. We were ready to go and grab something to eat on the way. I was already tired and it was probably like two or three in the afternoon. It honestly felt like gravity was increasing on me because not only was I tired, but I get pretty aggravated when we go shopping. No matter where we’re shopping I will always just be screaming internally with a fake smile. Not only that, but that day it was kinda hot so my pores were completely disproportionate. So we were just walkin along, while I was there trying not to pass out while aggressively sweating.

When we got back to the hotel room, my parents sprawled onto the white of the covers, going through everything we bought. I counted out how many keychains there were, my dad claimed one of the bookmarks, and my mom was contemplating how she would pack the two figurines she bought, due to them being so fragile. Other than that, I was beyond just tired and extremely hungry. But it was a good day, and I got to see so many new things in a country I’m not entirely familiar with. I mean go, beg to differ. But I don’t come to Singapore often. I always vow to spend my time well and just breathe in all the little things. Find the differences of the urban cities the architectural discrepancies. I saw everything with eyes as raw as a child in infancy. Trying to see everything for the first time. Because quite frankly, I did.