Love Singapore
Lush. Greenery. Justice. Freedom. Singapore, to me, means a lot more. What may seem to be a normal piece of rock to one, might seem like gold to another. We have to see Singapore as gold, treasure, and value it. The world is filled with uniqueness and differences. Singapore, being a little red dot, is filled with her own uniqueness. Although life in Singapore is hectic, it is filled with the pleasure of people and the contentment of solitude. Life in Singapore is balanced with both good and bad things.
I am a fourteen-year-old teenager, who has been living in Singapore all my life. I reside in a high-rise condominium worth, not less than S$ 2 000 000, with a balcony that faces the array of illuminated areas in the city. A peek outside my house reveals the lush tropical trees that tower over citizens from all walks of life. The Lion City is filled with vivid and effulgent flowers that glow under the light of the Sun during the day, and the moon during the night. The gentle breeze brushes against my face and runs away. My house is worth that large amount. But Singapore, on the other hand, cannot be bought because it is definitely more than that. That is my home.
A typical weekday begins at school. I squeeze through the crowded subway, where people elbow each other and nudge their way to their destination, portraying their “kiasu” attitude. I scan my vicinity as I try my best to reach the other end of the subway. Smiles across my fellow Singaporeans’ faces just made my day. I rubbed myself against a Chinese middle-aged man who was hunched over a Chinese newspaper. As I tried to ignore him, something eye-catching caught my attention. An Indian lady was dressed in a gorgeous sari that was draped across her shoulder. It was filled with stones that were glittering as the dim light rays in the subway landed on it.
In school, I was surrounded by my friends: Indians, Chinese, Malays and Eurasians. I felt like I was at…home. I felt safe with my family…my fellow
I am a fourteen-year-old teenager, who has been living in Singapore all my life. I reside in a high-rise condominium worth, not less than S$ 2 000 000, with a balcony that faces the array of illuminated areas in the city. A peek outside my house reveals the lush tropical trees that tower over citizens from all walks of life. The Lion City is filled with vivid and effulgent flowers that glow under the light of the Sun during the day, and the moon during the night. The gentle breeze brushes against my face and runs away. My house is worth that large amount. But Singapore, on the other hand, cannot be bought because it is definitely more than that. That is my home.
A typical weekday begins at school. I squeeze through the crowded subway, where people elbow each other and nudge their way to their destination, portraying their “kiasu” attitude. I scan my vicinity as I try my best to reach the other end of the subway. Smiles across my fellow Singaporeans’ faces just made my day. I rubbed myself against a Chinese middle-aged man who was hunched over a Chinese newspaper. As I tried to ignore him, something eye-catching caught my attention. An Indian lady was dressed in a gorgeous sari that was draped across her shoulder. It was filled with stones that were glittering as the dim light rays in the subway landed on it.
In school, I was surrounded by my friends: Indians, Chinese, Malays and Eurasians. I felt like I was at…home. I felt safe with my family…my fellow