Saraswathi D/O T. Nagalingam and Ziya Dasore

Saraswathi D/O T. Nagalingam: 

For as long as I could remember, I stood out from the other children. Whenever I went with my mother, people would stare at us and wonder what a Chinese girl was doing with an Indian lady. If anyone dared ask me why I had an Indian name when I looked Chinese or that I was an Indian, my mother would send them home with a severe scolding, being the fierce and protective mother that she was. I would often badger my mother with questions such as “Why am I so fair and you are dark; why do I not look like you?”. She would pacify me, saying that she had been out in the sun too long and that’s the reason she became so tanned. As for me, all I wanted was to look like my mother.

During my first year in primary school, I found it difficult to make new friends. The teachers were caring and understanding towards me, but the students always had something to say about my fair skin colour being “weird” since I was ‘Indian’. Throughout most of my time in primary school, I recalled not being given my birth certificate. A teacher in Primary 6 was the only person who gave me the birth certificate. Before that, if my school required it, my mother would be called to hand it in and collect it personally later. So, only after receiving the birth certificate, I knew that my mother was not my biological mother. When I checked with my mother, she was insistent that my birth certificate had been swapped with someone else’s. Fun Facts:- We used to carry a small ‘briefcase’ to school with all our books and stationery inside it, instead of the backpacks that school children now carry. My daily allowance was 20 cents, which was a lot of money back then.

In those days, our modes of transport were simpler. It comprised trishaws, non-airconditioned buses, and private car pools. On the bus, we had to buy a physical ticket that would be checked by the bus conductor to ensure we had paid the correct fare. He would do so by punching holes in the ticket to indicate our final destination. When I started taking taxis on my own when I was a grown-up, drivers would be shocked to find that I could speak Tamil when, in fact, I was of Chinese ethnicity. They listened in awe as I spoke to someone on the phone in Tamil. Those who found out the reason for my fluency in Tamil encouraged me to track down my biological parents. Every time, I declined as I felt that I belonged with an Indian family. I declared that I loved Indian culture and at heart, that’s who I was.

While growing up, I lived in Little India with my parents. All the neighbours’ kids, who lived on the same street as us, would invite me to join in their games and we would play for hours. In those days, there was hardly any automobile traffic as is the case now. We played fun games such as hop-scotch, hide and seek, and five stones. We would run down the street that housed sari shops, flower stalls, and of course, Komala Vilas - Singapore’s first vegetarian Indian restaurant. The aroma of street food and freshly cut fruits would linger in the air. Unlike the children now, we didn’t have any digital devices; even television came much later. Our time was spent playing outdoors.

Gradually, I completed my primary education and moved to secondary school. By now, I was much more confident and comfortable about my identity. I learnt to accept myself for who I am and no longer feel uncomfortable when someone makes remarks about my appearance or asks me questions about my background. I have also learnt that the true family is not just people who are biologically related to you but people who love and respect you and are always there for you.

Ziya Dasore: 

It was the first day of Primary 4. Everything was new, even the feeling inside me was new. Mom told me it’s called “nervous”. She knew this feeling because she felt it when she was young. Not only that, even my friends would be feeling the same. What? Wow! That’s strange. I know the feelings of my classmates even before I met them.

Nervous feels like butterflies in my tummy. I like butterflies a lot, but these? Not at all.

I reached school and everyone was observing each other, like me. I sat on the seat that the teacher showed me. Primary School was so different from kindergarten. I had to sit alone on my chair and not at a big table together with a group of friends.

How would I know who will be my group of friends? Or do I just sit alone and have no friends? Or do I have to be friends with everyone? Everything was scary.

With a lot of introductions, school viewing, and eating, the day passed very fast/ And I kind of liked school’s first day.

After a few days, there was some celebration in school and we had to take snacks for sharing. I was excited as I took a box of my favourite cupcakes. I held on tight because I was going to eat with my classmates and make friends. And then, I stumbled and fell as I entered my classroom. Some classmates came running and asked if I was okay.

I started to cry and said, “The cupcakes are spoilt”. My friends told me it was okay and I mattered more than cupcakes. They helped me up and we sat together and opened the box to find all the icing had mixed up with all colours and flavours.

We laughed and ate our colourful cupcakes like colourful butterflies. I had made friends now. I love butterflies all the more because of my friends who fill my day with love and care.