A Sea View
“Do you think there are more ships out there because of what’s happening in the Straits of Hormuz?”
“I don’t know, man, I haven’t been to this part of Sentosa for too long. But there’re definitely more ships in the sea and more people than I remember over here.”
“Well it’s a beautiful view regardless.”
Before us was the newly renovated beach bazaar, teeming with visitors this Labour Day, and in the distance we could see the ships – tankers, container ships, freighters – in the waters of Sentosa Anchorage, and further away, the oil storage tanks of Pulau Bukom.
I was at a wedding of a university friend, at a seaside venue on Sentosa island, with two other friends. We had lived together for six months in New York City on student exchange while in college – but that was almost two decades ago and time had caught up – we barely saw each other once a year now.
“We don’t go for many weddings now right, at our age?”
“Well, it makes the ones that we do go for extra special.”
Vows
Our friend, the bride C, was radiant.
People say a woman is most beautiful on her wedding day. It was never truer than it was today. Weddings can be stressful, but the joy radiating from her was unmistakable.
As the bride and groom exchanged vows under the setting sun, her voice cracked as she described the little twists of fate and coincidences that struck her as she began dating her husband, and the shared values and purpose they had found.
He described how they had met in his shop while she was out buying flowers with her mother, and how, after that first meeting, he kept finding reasons to hope she might return.
A meeting in a shop with her mother – in an age of dating apps and AI-assisted matchmaking. She had told the story to us before, but even now, it struck me how the old ways may last and survive.
As the adults listened to the touching exchange of vows, a small boy, maybe 4 or 5, was jumping about on the artificial turf, gathering the fallen rose petals and throwing them up again.
“Must be nice to be a kid huh? You can just do what you want without a care in the world.”
The Kids
After the solemnization and the exchange of vows, we returned to the dining area where the banquet was served, traditional Chinese style. As always with parents of young kids, the topic soon turned to family and children.
“I’ve been thinking of taking a staycation in Singapore this year. We’ll cycle down to Changi, and stay at this new resort called The Bus Collective.”
“I just went there last year! Highly highly recommended. My toddler loved it, especially the bus driver seat with the steering wheel. He wants to be a bus driver when he grows up.”
“Mine too! Maybe this can be an incentive trip for him if he studies hard.”
“Wait, your kid is eight right? Is this a phase that he will get out of? I thought my three year old will get out of this phase soon!”
“Not that I know of! My kid still stops by the toy vending machine each time to look at the buses on display.”
The three year old was my son. A few days earlier I had told him buses would soon drive themselves. Hours later, he pointed to his toy bus fleet — all driverless, no figures in the driver seats — and proudly said that he still wanted to be a bus driver.
The Lights Above
Later in the night, we moved out to the open space again, for the traditional yam seng, the three toasts to the wedding couple. The bride and groom had timed it beautifully with the venue coordinator, and the popping and pouring of the champagne was synchronized with a fireworks display in the background.
It was beautiful. It reminded me of Squall and Rinoa’s first dance in Final Fantasy VIII, with the fireworks in the background as Eyes on Me played.
The three traditional toasts were to a blissful marriage to the couple, eternal love, and the swift production of children. We cheered heartily to all three.
Under the fireworks, amidst tankers and toddlers and all the strange anxieties of our age, the assembled families and friends wished the newlyweds all the best on the journey they had now embarked on. May their union be blessed.