Melting Pot, Singapore

Until last year, when Tanvi received her first Eidi from our lovely neighbours, I never realised that she's revelling in multicultural environment of Singapore which is quite different from diverse culture of India.

Times have certainly changed. When I drop my bumble bee off at preschool in Singapore every morning, I feel she is a part of some UN delegation. There are more races at display than would have been at Commonwealth Games.

Last week, her class celebrated Xin Nian Kuai Le, the Chinese New Year. All the Children made Greeting cards and red packets , Hongbao and wished each other Gong Xi Fa Chai. She has already started speaking Mandarin and Malay, ofcourse, I still need some lessons to comprehend as to what is she saying.

She had a mini party and I was wondering if she picnicked on Pineapple tarts from Singapore, German pretzels, South Indian Vadas n Idlis, Japanese Sushi orNorth Indian Pakoras. Tanvi has friends from Singapore, Taiwan, Japan, China, Malaysia and South India. I was 29 when I encountered so many nationalities under one roof and for her, she is not even two.

Definitely, she is growing up in a diverse culture diffrent than in India. Singapore is melting pot of cultures, colours, races, flavours, sights and sounds.Singapore in true sense is a secular country and unique because everybody celebrates commonalities rather than differences.

Growing in Urban Jungle, amid tradition and modernity, Tanvi shines in 'Can Can' and 'Lah' energy.

                                                   

With myraid of experiences and contrasts, Singapore is a place to be....

My baby's journey but without me...

Today is one of those monumental days I think all moms look forward to, yet somehow dread at the same time. Today I sent my baby girl to preschool.

Preschool means that for the first time your child waddles into class for a day of assumed loving support but without you. It’s the beginning of a journey that parents take on good faith.

She poses in front of the door for a quick 'first day' picture as she tries to finish off her breakfast and off we go. I feel the tears begin to stream down my face as we cross the street. More so I feel guilty that I didn’t listen to my husband when he said, ‘she is still very young for a school’. Glancing at her, I was thankful for the sight: her little hands holding mine firmly and a smile on her face, although a reminder to me of how young she is still.

Part of me wonders how this could be happening in the first place. Is it really possible that I’m sending my daughter to become a little person who wears a uniform? To school? Grow up?

I think every mom who sends their kid off to school for the first time gets a free pass to be sad, confused, guilty or even a full-blown wreck. Before even starting school, I visited the beautiful classroom so many times before hand to see if it has all those things that will keep my baby happy. On the orientation day, I stood outside and waited, listening for her to miss me, which would mean I’d get to take her home, or atleast my husband presumed that way.

Surely it will be different the second time around. It still feels new though, the love and fear all tucked into one big event.

Some day,I am hopeful, we’ll both cheerfully wave to one another, and as I watch my heart walk into the classroom, I’ll tell her how happy I am that she’s starting a new adventure and I’ll truly mean it.