Trilian Yap Yen Jun

Home Is Always Waiting for You

Hiding the cane whenever you’re afraid,
The bus ride home with grades clenched tight
In trembling hands too small for fate.
The heat is burning on your skin,
you are melting each step you take.
Uncertain of your future,
the joy meant for today is pushed aside.

Our home was not a home when we had to prove ourselves constantly we were worthy of staying.
Seasons blurred, the year flies past.
Childhood was slipping through your fingers
Then at last,
the winter break came.

The crackle of the mahjong shuffling,
The chatter and dialects half forgotten
An aromatic scent wafts from the kitchen
Settling, not suffocating.
The familiar taste of home
The chicken soup, rice, and braised beef
rich with memories and tradition.
The old dog, long gone
Lies on the warm carpet near the radiator

Relatives put their differences aside,
Drink and toast to each other now.
Winter makes our home warmer
Somehow.

They say,
Why did you come to this country,
You deserve to be at home?
But I say,
Go child
Dream without apology
Because
Home is always waiting for you

Words from the Author

Originally from China, I had moved to Singapore to pursue my education. People always say that the education system in Singapore was easier than China, but to a 12 year old me, it was the same. Same pressure, same results, new language barrier. In a lot of ways, I missed my home, where I was surrounded by my extended family. Only during winter— during the school break, I could visit my extended family and truly relax and be a child there. My piece hopefully talked about everything, the gruelling education system that caused my childhood to slip away from me, the dialects and traditions of my family, and the harsh punishments Asian households carry out on things so trivial as grades. It is truly important to me to not be mad at my past but to recognise and love it for what it is and to the thankful of the winters I had with my family