New Circuit

A close counterpart of old Chika Matija was twice rebuffed tonight at the Haig. After an unexplained lull of a number of months the man had recently appeared on the streets again. Tonight he approached at the Haig tea stall run by the bearded Tamil-Malay. Hello, hello. Apar khabar?... Where you stay?... For me, can?... Mid-seventies in a nice, loosely buttoned long-sleeve batik, grey hairs springing. Prior to the lockdown the men could find a place at the mosques. Refusing the offer of a teh as compensation, a few minutes later the chap approached the bench by the stop and needed to be warned off. Non-householders congregating was not permitted. In the newspaper that morning four of the regular Haig granddads, including one in his wheelchair missing half a leg, were photographed gathered around the back of the market by the case and trolley store, which for some unknown reason still appeared to be trading. While the teh was drunk and some jottings made a Grab cycling by illegally on the footpath carried a tune as he passed like a bright, fluttering ribbon. Before leaving for the circuit the Buddhist handyman had been congratulated on his ability to make his wife laugh so freely at the dining-room table, a light trilling Hahaha that fitted with her gait in the kitchen. Mornings setting off for her TCM work in dowdy prof. apparel you could not have guessed the inner lightness and spirit. Ramadan still a fortnight off, the night market cancelled, its lights and decorations strung up along the front of the Haig by the labourers giving the look of an aborted fairground. In a number of countries there had been concerns over hidden domestic violence during the lockdowns. Harassment of girls and women on the streets must have lessened, but it was also possible to think that the ladies were suffering now too with the lack of the usual admiration. Reports down in Oz featured people in the suburbs dressing up for the carting of the garbage onto the street; hints offered on how to look one’s best communicating on the screen. (In congested drought regions of India the challenges of distancing and hand-washing told the story on the other side.) On the new circuit down Tanjong Katong Road, turn at Dunman and back along Joo Chiat, it was condoland and bungalows throughout. Big-engined Euro models powering down narrow streets; big dogs here sometimes walked by their owners and the meeting of pets providing a spot of social exchange. In the front corner of one of the Dunman landed properties an old weathered concrete headstone stood up close against the fence. Former days when the deceased had walked the ground here these were large allotments that had been progressively hived off to the developers, leaving this grave now in a tight corner hard by two boundaries back and side. In the end dva metra svakome dosta, two metres was sufficient for all, the old Montenegrins said at funerals, while following the usual acquisitiveness otherwise.