Irrelevance 

Attended my great-granduncle’s 110th birthday today and stuffed myself silly.

It never really changes from year to year. Everyone dresses up, adults (my God I’m an adult too) pass the first comment that comes to their mind (have you gained weight? Yes hahaha I’m working on it. Where are you studying? NUS Year 2, Computer Science.)

I noticed that my family was the only one not wearing suits or dresses and did a weak attempt to shrug away any embarrassment. Our family was relatively stranded in terms of blood ties, only sparsely related via our grandparents, dearly departed more than a decade ago. In this ballroom we were merely remnants of our grandfather, some of his features found in us as button noses or flat, pursed lips.

This time when the crowd left the stage after the birthday song and cake-cutting, I saw two ancient, catatonic and wheelchair-bound old men on-stage and wondered if they were held hostage by their still-beating hearts. Is their withering existence just an excuse for all these people to gather annually to swallow down a buffet dinner?