Buses
When I was younger, I used to play this game by myself, in my head. Whenever I'm in a car or a taxi, usually with my family members, I'd randomly ask myself: "If I were to be abandoned here, would I know my way back home?" On a taxi in anywhere on the outskirts of Pasir Ris, my answer to this lonely game in my head would be no. My last year of secondary school, I was still unfamiliar with anywhere that wasn't Pasir Ris or Tampines. The thought of going anywhere further than Paya Lebar (only went there to go my granny's house) and changing lines was so damn new to me, so damn scary. Now, you could dump me anywhere in Singapore and I'd be happy to find my way back home. Slowly though, because I'd probably take my time to explore first; the idea of hopping on trains and buses to nowhere and everywhere, and looking at shopping malls I've never been to, scenery I've never seen. It's around this period 4 years ago that my other half first brought me on the middle parts of the North South line. When I first stepped onto Jurong East MRT station and got fascinated with it having more than 3 platforms. But there's something bittersweet about seeing a familiar bus after a long day. There's a tugging in my heart when I'm on a bus and I see the buses I've recognised since childhood outside the window. In my childhood, I've never traveled these buses farther than necessary; now as an adult obsessed with public transport, I've ridden most of them from end to end, and I still feel safe when I see them on the same road, because I know I'm reaching the most familiar place in the world.
