Never far away from you

Last night, I walked by our neighbourhood faraway tree - and it was gone!

OK, the tree is still there. But it is not the same tree anymore, not really.

In a fit of upgrading fervour, HDB has finally found out this spot of un-touched, un-upgraded ground with its independent installation, and decided to impose their own idea of a hardland. So with their foreign workers in tow, they lay the base of the tree with cement. Hence the inhabitants of this sculpture garden - mr giraffe, frogman, mini-barbie, buddha himself!, the ubiquitous fisherman, orange bambi, those life-like birds etc - have been forced to re-locate. So it seems that even the faraway tree is never far away enough from HDB (which uses cement the way a student uses correction fluid).

The only angel remaining on the original tree

You can imagine, the artist of this magic kingdom was not too pleased. Shirtless, hairless and almost toothless, but not fireless, he saw J and I approaching from a distance, shock on our faces, and he waved both hands, signaling "no more", "tak ada", "gone", "bo liao","habis", "kaput".

Tree God: Bo liao lah. (=it's gone.)
J: Huh, yi lang zo si mi? (=what are they - over zealous HDB - doing?)
TG: Yi lang "fan xing"[ok, this is too tiring, i shall stop this Hokkien transcript]. See, the cement all over.
J: Aiyoh.
TG: I think they are going to fill up the rest of the place with soil and plant grass.
J: Oh... [Still unable to get over what he is seeing]
TG: Aiya, too many cats here. They shit here, piss here, damn smelly. Cement up, they cannot come. 50 or 60 around this block ah!
J: Like this ah...so you cannot put the things at the tree anymore.
TG: They plant the grass, then cannot put.
J: [Pointing at where the figurines, toys and statues now live] Haha, yi lang "yi ming" (=they have to migrate).
TG: Ha ha, yes, no choice. Migrate.
Y: Hey, there's a new tree.
TG: Yah yah, new tree. My Ba Xian Shu (=8 Fairies Tree)
Y&J: Oh yes, ba xian shu! Yay!

The new 8 Fairies (plus 1 songstress) Tree

Well folks, perhaps because life is more like a weed than an arrangement of flowers, it persists.