“No, he’s not dead yet.”
“How do you know? How can you be so sure?”
“When he dies there will be a few days of heavy rain.”
HY asked me this morning if I recalled what I said a few days before. Of course I don’t.
But I do remember the sky of the above day.
Since rumor of his passing on spread apprehensively before Lee Kuan Yew’s death, we too listened and made preparations in our hearts.
My heart knows for a reason. That late afternoon as we were going out on our bikes the air was warm and compact, little vibrations tended to it. The weather was literally one of non disclosure and the air, lips tight, one of supposition, depending on which way you were inclined to believe in the pass two weeks. But even as we got messages I didn’t feel. The air didn’t say.
Yesterday the rain came unlikely. But it came, and it continues to.
Bye bye March, may Mr Lee and Mrs Lee renew their romance in April skies.