Having grown up in the mid 80s and 90s, there are many beautiful memories that I treasure to this day. These are priceless memories nothing and no one can take away from me… I have been living close to the Potong Pasir area (sennett estate) all my life (close to 25 years) and everything about this site has stirred up a sense of nostalgia in me,and has me inspired to share my memories…

When I was three or four years old, I remember my cousins’ houses in Pasir Ris were being renovated so they came to stay with us in the family home (the house their parents grew up in-my house was purchased in the 60s by my grandmother and my uncle and aunt and father grew up here). What fun we had! Though I spent most of my early childhood at my maternal grandma’s place,nearer the weekends my mother would bring me home again, and we all had lots of fun playing together. Every Friday, being a strict Hindu family, everyone would spend an hour or so in the prayer room singing bhajans or devotional singing,and immediately after that we will gather in the living room to catch the weekly Tamil movie on tv. I remember our house used to have 2 television sets. One that worked and which we commonly used, and another that looked like it belonged in the 50s to 60s. I remember it was bulky looking and was on an attached stand (sort of). It had funny little knobs on it and stood in a corner. There was a turntable in the living room and sometimes the adults would play vinyl records on it.

I had equal fun in my maternal grandma’s house in Teck Whye. My cousins on my maternal side and I would play a game called “house house” as we would call it. We would make believe that my aunt’s room was a small house and one of us would be the mummy, one would be the daddy and one would be the child (or something similar to this arrangement). I remember everytime my grandmother used to proceed to cut and clean a chicken, I would drag a chair into the kitchen to watch her at work. Sometimes I and my cousins would play “masak masak” or a cooking game,in which we would imagine ourselves being cooks and cook imaginary ingredients in a small bowl with a teaspoon,pretending to add a dash of this and a dollop of that to the dish. Sometimes during lunchtimes, my grandma will mix rice and curry together in a large bowl, and will stick a dollop of butter at the rim of the bowl. She will gather the children together and feed this wonderful dish to us. To balance the spiciness level of the food, she will put some butter on top of each ball of food she fed us (being Indian,we traditionally use our hands to eat food).
When I was 5, my mother enrolled me for Tamil classes at Potong Pasir Community Centre. These classes were conducted every Sunday. So every Sun,my mother or father would walk with me to Potong Pasir CC, from our house in Sennett Estate. It was a 15 min walk. When we got to Potong Pasir, my mother would bring me to a bakery there, if I am not wrong its called Shangri La Bakery and still exists there today. She’d buy me a slice of their delicious butter cake to eat during class break. The class was for about 2-3 hrs if am not wrong, after which my mother would bring me back. I remember once we took part in a childrens’ radio programme on the SBC Tamil radio station (now known as Oli 96.8).

Sometimes in the afternoons, I would spot the ice cream man slowly coming up the lane peddling his wares,and sometimes mother would buy me some chocolate ice cream,usually in a small cup with a plastic spoon. That was a cool treat I really enjoyed.

In primary school, I remember my pocket money used to be about sixty to seventy cents daily, till it was increased to a dollar in primary six. I remember a plate of nasi lemak would cost twenty to thirty cents, and an ice cream would cost about 40 cents for a single scoop on a small cone. I remember very well we girls used to have the habits of keeping autograph books and collecting stickers. There were also familiar games like tag or catching as it was popularly known, skipping ropes which were made of rubber bands,and digging in the sandpit. A sight of dread was when there was a knock on the door, and a pupil with a piece of gauze sticking out from the side of their mouth,and holding a red clipboard stood-a symbol that the dentist was looking for her next victim. Many would quickly scurry under their desks in a desperate attempt to hide, and everyone would hope they arent called for an inspection.

There are just so many things I want to share, so perhaps shall I come up with a part 2 of this?