Raffles Place

Having worked at Raffles Place for a couple of years before, I find it rather lacking in terms of a soul. It often seemed more like a point of transit than a place that you can say that you intimately belong to. The monolithic structures, the shiny glass windows, the immaculate lobbies, the pristine walkways all marked the lack of life in the heart of finance and commerce. There is simply not enough mess, flaws or mistakes to mark the sign of human engineering.

It was only when night falls that there will be signs of life. On my way home from my work outs, I used to see groups of cyclists practising their stunts and tricks on the long walkways and along the low stone ledges. Once in a while, there will be a couple of others juggling wine bottles, or at least trying to do so. These are people possessed, perspiring and bleeding in the name of passion. These are the people who on weekends, sacrifices their sleep to perfect their craft. Passion and sacrifice is to duty and obligation as night is to day, just as these cyclists are to the paper pushers who shuffle through during the day.

But recently, they had workers cut ridges into the ledges and between the stone slabs, inserted small pieces of metal plates which protrudes out just a little. The purpose of this, no doubt is to keep the cyclists and skateboarders away as they can no long slide along or skate on the ledges.

Sometimes I wonder if these foreign labourers are cursing their luck for being paid the insignificant to do the unnecessary for the incompetent.

I should have expected the town council to do something like this, although I was expecting them to mobilize the riot police. If these people performed at Chingay or national day, they would be called performers or even artists. If they practice anywhere else, they are public nuisance. And as with all public nuisances, they do not belong in Raffles Place, unless they are employed by the government.

Furthermore, the stone slabs have been coated with a thin layer of vinyl finish, giving them a wet, glossy look, a move that I might have applauded if the coating had been done in a dust free environment and if the the finish does not feel sticky to the touch. When it was first started, everyone hesitated to sit down, thinking that slabs might be wet.

It reminds me of the days in the camp, when during inspection, tyres have to be coated with shoe polish to ensure they looked relatively new, when jerry cans have to be coated with green paint to give an illusion that they are well maintained...

And now, stone seats have to be coated with vinyl, for what ends? To prevent corrosion?

I think they should stop promoting ex-army personnels to positions in statutory boards.

It is probably a not a good idea...