Mrs Tan loved The Sound of Music. She had watched it so many times that she could memorise parts of the script. Needless to say she knew every song from beginning to end. Imagine her excitement then, when Mr Tan brought home four tickets for The Sound of Music which was going to be shown at The Cultural Palace, their local theatre. At the time, Mr Tan was still debating the sensibility of buying tickets that cost 180 dollars each, but he decided it was worth it when he saw how happy Mrs Tan was.
After weeks of eager anticipation, the big day finally arrived. Mrs Tan felt in a pink mood that day, so she put on pick lipstick, pink eyeshadow and pink blusher. She chose a striking pink blouse, the type that was so pink it would lose colour when it was washed, and matched it with a white skirt dotted with pink hibiscus flowers. To complement her outfit, she wanted a pink handbag but to her dismay, she couldn’t find one. In the end, she settled on a pink plastic bag that she had got from the fruit stall in pasar malam, which she found was just nice to put in a 500mL bottle of water, a packet of tissue and her lipstick.
The Cultural Palace was full of people when the Tan Family arrived. Mr Tan double-parked the car near the door so they wouldn’t have to walk so far and they joined the milling crowd in the main hall. Suddenly, Ah Boy felt someone tap his shoulder. It was theatre staff. “I’m sorry sir,” she said, “You cannot wear T-shirt and jeans into the theatre. Would you like to rent a jacket from us? Only 10 dollars, just pay a small deposit of 50 dollars and we return you the remaining 40 dollars when you return the jacket.”
Mr Tan was, for the most part, a meek and mild-mannered man who seldom liked to make trouble. He didn’t want them all to be evicted from the theatre after all the trouble he had taken to get them there. So he quietly paid up and got Ah Boy an old jacket from the jacket-rental department that smelt as if it hadn’t been washed for years. As they made their way to the actual theatre from the main hall, they saw some people selling programmes.
Ah Girl went up to them and asked, “How much?”
“30 dollars,” was the answer.
“Yiii. So expensive. Printed on gold ah? Don’t want lah! Better you keep.” she tossed her head and went off.
Unfortunately, the Tan Family had one more obstacle to overcome before they could take their seats.
“I’m sorry ma’am, you cannot take water into the theatre,” said the staff, in a loud and bossy voice, barricading the entrance. “You go over there and rent a locker, only 5 dollars. You keep the water in there.”
Mrs Tan felt like she was going to cry. She had to be led away by Mr Tan who rented the locker and put away her water for her. The fat woman at the entrance cast a critical eye on Mrs Tan’s pink plastic bag, now hanging limp and forlorn, and let them through.
Mrs Tan cheered up a bit when she felt how comfortable the seats were. And then, the show started and she forgot everything and fixed her attention on the stage. Mrs Tan loved everything, the music, the orchestra, the stage props, the lighting… it was the first time she had ever been to a musical and she was thoroughly enjoying the experience. Ah Girl and Ah Boy too, were very excited. They got out of their seats and joined the other children at the railing, looking down onto the stage. Mrs Tan’s view was occasionally blocked by them, and also by somebody in front of her, drinking from a 1.5L bottle. Nevertheless, she was too happy to mind either the children, or the irony of someone slipping a bottle three times as big as hers past the guards at the entrance.
All in all, Mrs Tan was sorry to see the show come to an end. They pushed their way out with the rest of the crowd, collected the water, returned the jacket, and made their way back to the car.
Mrs Tan smiled at her husband. “Thank you,” she said. She knew he was not fond of the Sound of Music but he had made it a family outing anyway. He said nothing but smiled and patted her hand.
Mrs Tan sat back, satisfied. It had been a lovely day.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Thursday, November 8, 2007
Un-Model Essay 2007: A Lesson Learnt
Write a story with the ending “- he had learnt his lesson.”
It was an extremely hot day. The sun beat down mercilessly on Xiao Ming as he walked home from school. Every now and again, he took out a soaking wet handkerchief and mopped his brow with it. The road home was long and Xiao Ming’s bag was heavy. He began to grow weary and yearned for a cool drink to quench his thirst. So he could scarcely believe his eyes when he rounded a corner and saw a stall selling watermelon, papaya and guava slices.
At first, he thought it was a mirage resulting from the oppressive heat, especially as he had no recollection of any fruit stall at this particular corner. However, Xiao Ming was a pragmatic boy, not given to wasting time on speculation. He went up to the stall and gave it a kick. He missed though and his foot met with the cemented umbrella stand making him yell in pain. Only then did the stall keeper notice there was a customer. He looked up and gave Xiao Ming an oily smile. “Hot day isn’t it?” he said, swatting a fly away.
Xiao Ming made no reply. He seldom answered rhetorical questions. A fly buzzed past his ear. Another one landed on his nose and made him sneeze. A third one stopped on his sweaty shirt and cleaned its wings. Xiao Ming waved at them impatiently and they all flew off, only to hover over the fruits.
“How much?” he asked the stall keeper. “Sixty cents for any fruit,” said the man. The first fly landed on a slice of watermelon, the second stopped on the papaya, and the third cleaned its wings on a piece of guava. However, Xiao Ming didn’t notice. He thought the flies were papaya seeds. This was because his eyesight wasn’t very good but he could never be bothered to go to the optician.
“I’ll have one of each,” said Xiao Ming eagerly. He could almost feel the sweet, cool, fruit juices running down his parched throat. He paid the man and continued on his way home, sinking his teeth into the juicy fruit. The flies buzzed after him but decided to return to the fruit stall after a while.
Finally, Xiao Ming reached home. As he crossed the threshold, he was seized by an agonising pain in his stomach. Dropping his bag on the floor, he ran towards the toilet as fast as his legs could carry him. That was only the beginning.
Poor Xiao Ming spent the rest of the day in and out of the toilet. It was lucky that the next day was Saturday and he didn’t have to go to school. He felt miserable and thoroughly sorry for himself and vowed never to eat or drink anything that looked even remotely unhygienic ever again. He also told himself that he would visit the optician regularly to ensure perfect vision, corrected or otherwise. Indeed, he had learnt his lesson.
It was an extremely hot day. The sun beat down mercilessly on Xiao Ming as he walked home from school. Every now and again, he took out a soaking wet handkerchief and mopped his brow with it. The road home was long and Xiao Ming’s bag was heavy. He began to grow weary and yearned for a cool drink to quench his thirst. So he could scarcely believe his eyes when he rounded a corner and saw a stall selling watermelon, papaya and guava slices.
At first, he thought it was a mirage resulting from the oppressive heat, especially as he had no recollection of any fruit stall at this particular corner. However, Xiao Ming was a pragmatic boy, not given to wasting time on speculation. He went up to the stall and gave it a kick. He missed though and his foot met with the cemented umbrella stand making him yell in pain. Only then did the stall keeper notice there was a customer. He looked up and gave Xiao Ming an oily smile. “Hot day isn’t it?” he said, swatting a fly away.
Xiao Ming made no reply. He seldom answered rhetorical questions. A fly buzzed past his ear. Another one landed on his nose and made him sneeze. A third one stopped on his sweaty shirt and cleaned its wings. Xiao Ming waved at them impatiently and they all flew off, only to hover over the fruits.
“How much?” he asked the stall keeper. “Sixty cents for any fruit,” said the man. The first fly landed on a slice of watermelon, the second stopped on the papaya, and the third cleaned its wings on a piece of guava. However, Xiao Ming didn’t notice. He thought the flies were papaya seeds. This was because his eyesight wasn’t very good but he could never be bothered to go to the optician.
“I’ll have one of each,” said Xiao Ming eagerly. He could almost feel the sweet, cool, fruit juices running down his parched throat. He paid the man and continued on his way home, sinking his teeth into the juicy fruit. The flies buzzed after him but decided to return to the fruit stall after a while.
Finally, Xiao Ming reached home. As he crossed the threshold, he was seized by an agonising pain in his stomach. Dropping his bag on the floor, he ran towards the toilet as fast as his legs could carry him. That was only the beginning.
Poor Xiao Ming spent the rest of the day in and out of the toilet. It was lucky that the next day was Saturday and he didn’t have to go to school. He felt miserable and thoroughly sorry for himself and vowed never to eat or drink anything that looked even remotely unhygienic ever again. He also told himself that he would visit the optician regularly to ensure perfect vision, corrected or otherwise. Indeed, he had learnt his lesson.
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Un-Model Essay 2007: A Bad Dream
It was midnight. I was up late, burning the midnight oil. As usual, I hadn’t studied enough beforehand and the exam was in a few days time. I was nodding off in front of my books when I suddenly heard a rude knocking on the door.
“Buh!” I exclaimed, waking from my stupor. At first I wasn’t sure what to do, but the knocking grew more insistent. Unable to contain my curiosity any longer, I tiptoed towards the door and opened it a crack. A bent old hag squinted at me.
“Hello dearie,” she said. “Buy a poisoned apple from a poor old woman?”
I rolled my eyes. “D’you think I was born yesterday?” I said. “You keep that poisoned apple for gullible girls like Snow White.”
I slammed the door shut. More knocking ensued. I sighed and opened the door again. “Go away you old crone,” I began... and was surprised to see a wet, bedraggled little girl at the front door.
“Please,” she said, “I sought shelter at the house yonder but they wouldn’t remove the pea from the bottom of the mattresses, and I couldn’t lift them myself, and I couldn’t get to sleep either…”
I felt sorry for her. She looked so miserable. However, I couldn’t be sure that it wasn’t a wicked witch in disguise so I stalled for time. “Give me a minute,” I said, and shut the door. When I opened it again, there was nobody there. The only sounds that could be heard were the whispering of the wind through the trees and a haunting voice singing in a Native American accent, “listen with your heart, you will understand”.
I shook my head. That enchanted tree would be the death of me one day. I shut the door and went back to my work. There was still another 7000 years of Chinese History to go through. It was an upsetting thought.
Just as I sat down, I heard more knocking. This was beginning to be irritating, so I stumped over to the door and flung it open.
“What?!” I barked.
A very big dog dressed in a nightie blinked back at me.
“I’m your grandma,” it whined. “Don’t you recognise your old granny?”
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” I snapped. “I’ve had it up to here with you lot, chapping on the door while I’m trying to study and going on about poisoned apples and peas and grandmothers. Anyway, what makes you think you look even remotely like my grandmother, supposing she was still around? She never wore a nightie and her ears weren’t so big and she most certainly didn’t have, ugh, halitosis like you.”
The very big dog narrowed its eyes. “Right,” it growled, rolling up its sleeves. “I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house down.”
I opened my mouth to retort, but to my shock and horror, all that came out was a shrill “not by the hair of my chinny chin chin!” I whipped my head back and saw a pink, curly tail stuck fast to me. The very big dog lunged at my fat little trotters and I squealed like a stuck pig. I struggled and thrashed and…
…awoke to see the grey light of dawn. An angry cat glared at me, his tail lashing back and forth. Without warning, he pounced on my leg, biting hard. I beat him off and fed him some cat food.
All this while, a wave of relief was sweeping over me. It had been nothing but a dream! I told myself sternly that I would have to stop reading so many fairy tales and eating so much cheese for dinner. It was at this point that I realised I was late and rushed to get myself ready for school.
“Buh!” I exclaimed, waking from my stupor. At first I wasn’t sure what to do, but the knocking grew more insistent. Unable to contain my curiosity any longer, I tiptoed towards the door and opened it a crack. A bent old hag squinted at me.
“Hello dearie,” she said. “Buy a poisoned apple from a poor old woman?”
I rolled my eyes. “D’you think I was born yesterday?” I said. “You keep that poisoned apple for gullible girls like Snow White.”
I slammed the door shut. More knocking ensued. I sighed and opened the door again. “Go away you old crone,” I began... and was surprised to see a wet, bedraggled little girl at the front door.
“Please,” she said, “I sought shelter at the house yonder but they wouldn’t remove the pea from the bottom of the mattresses, and I couldn’t lift them myself, and I couldn’t get to sleep either…”
I felt sorry for her. She looked so miserable. However, I couldn’t be sure that it wasn’t a wicked witch in disguise so I stalled for time. “Give me a minute,” I said, and shut the door. When I opened it again, there was nobody there. The only sounds that could be heard were the whispering of the wind through the trees and a haunting voice singing in a Native American accent, “listen with your heart, you will understand”.
I shook my head. That enchanted tree would be the death of me one day. I shut the door and went back to my work. There was still another 7000 years of Chinese History to go through. It was an upsetting thought.
Just as I sat down, I heard more knocking. This was beginning to be irritating, so I stumped over to the door and flung it open.
“What?!” I barked.
A very big dog dressed in a nightie blinked back at me.
“I’m your grandma,” it whined. “Don’t you recognise your old granny?”
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” I snapped. “I’ve had it up to here with you lot, chapping on the door while I’m trying to study and going on about poisoned apples and peas and grandmothers. Anyway, what makes you think you look even remotely like my grandmother, supposing she was still around? She never wore a nightie and her ears weren’t so big and she most certainly didn’t have, ugh, halitosis like you.”
The very big dog narrowed its eyes. “Right,” it growled, rolling up its sleeves. “I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house down.”
I opened my mouth to retort, but to my shock and horror, all that came out was a shrill “not by the hair of my chinny chin chin!” I whipped my head back and saw a pink, curly tail stuck fast to me. The very big dog lunged at my fat little trotters and I squealed like a stuck pig. I struggled and thrashed and…
…awoke to see the grey light of dawn. An angry cat glared at me, his tail lashing back and forth. Without warning, he pounced on my leg, biting hard. I beat him off and fed him some cat food.
All this while, a wave of relief was sweeping over me. It had been nothing but a dream! I told myself sternly that I would have to stop reading so many fairy tales and eating so much cheese for dinner. It was at this point that I realised I was late and rushed to get myself ready for school.
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