You know, my NDP this year was way more interesting than any of the NDPs that I've ever been to before.
Okay, before I get on further, let me first say that I tend to get quite excited whenever NDP season rolls around.
Not because I get tickets to the parade, not because I'm patriotic (in that sense) but because, well, simply, I'm Singaporean, and as a citizen born and bred, if it's not your own National Day to feel cool about, then, whose?
Of course there are the fireworks, and the parade- uniformed contingents and all- which I particularly enjoy, and which makes me anticipate things every time the season rolls around.
To be honest, this year the season had begun unnaturally warm and bright and stuffy and humid and uncomfortable.
Moreover, it was one of those years where I didn't find myself especially interested in anything related to National Day- don't ask me why- and I too didn't really want to care.
But Life gives you interesting turns, and I got granted an opportunity to participate in what I call a fringe activity.
For profession's sake, I shall not mention just what it was we did, but let's just say it bordered somewhere between a serious, pragmatic yet relatable approach that speak to the consumer of today's competitive world.
It was a privilege to be permitted.
That, I shall never hesitate to say so.
Especially since the opportunity had come as quite an unexpected surprise.
As it happened, we were thus granted (officially) (professionally) the chance to be close to the main event, in a rather prime spot- if you ask me- right next to Marina Bay Sands close to the water.
The Uncle Ringo carnival stood at a spot somewhere between the Sands Expo and Convention Center, and the financial towers of MBFC.
Of course, I had to take pictures of my surroundings.
It's not every day I get to see the financial skyscrapers of MBFC under the canopy of a specially planted tree.
Don't judge the carnival, however.
It might look quiet, nobody having fun, but oy, this was set up day where workers, stall holders, and backstage crew stomp all over the grounds pushing trolleys laden with cartons and coolers and all kinds of stands and paraphernalia. This is the day where electricians stomp about with thick wires looped over their arms as they unroll and tape it down whilst someone monitors the layout for safety and checks to make sure everything's down and everyone's away before they turn the switch.
No one comes here on set up day with a full wallet ready to eat.
No one too comes here on set up day with the expectation of entertainment rolling across the screen in the tent.
The stuff's still in the flash drive, the dongle, and the computer guy is still plugging the head to the hole.
But that's the charm of it.
You get to see how it works, how it all gets put together.
It might be the trailer still moving parts of the park rides in.
It might be the organizer of the food bazaar going all round his stalls.
It might be the carnival owner and organizer going round after round within the area to make sure everything is right.
That doesn't mean that there's no music.
Yes, there is.
It just either goes on repeat or gets chopped off mid-song as the sound guy randomly tests his speakers, his systems and his mikes.
There's anticipation built up in the air.
Enhanced, perhaps, by the presence of this (still-dark) horse carousel in the middle of the grounds.
It's indeed a blessing.
After al, if you ask me, there's nothing more iconic a representation of carnivals and fairs other than that of a horse carousel with its models, its decorations and its lights waiting to be switched on, waiting for rides.