Durian VS Attachment

Being attached to something is an indescribable experience, it is a little bit ambiguous, but more of it is a feeling of intimacy...especially to a country.

It was on last Friday that I first attempted durian, a prestigious tropical fruit with the title----"THE KING OF THE FRUIT". But what really matters to me is that this magical fruit is the symbol of Singapore----a country which I am making every efforts to develop an attachment. My mummy(my affable guardian) once told me with a smile esteemed with mystique,"some people have made an interesting investigation with expatriats and immigrants in Singapore, those who could take durians would stay in Singapore, those who could not would not stay here." A question then followed with inquisition."How do you find durian?......"she approached with utmost discretion, as if she was trying to prevent a crystal ball from falling from the top of a flagpole.

" I have not tried yet..."detecting the undertone beneath her question, I gave an ambiguous answer, but it was truth. I INDEED had not not tried it at that specific moment, and an expression of embarrassment flickered across my face.

" Oh! So far so good, having not tried means neutral, thus it is good hah!" she said with an exclamation of relief. I was engulfed by the shame then, after all, by that moment I have been here for three months, yet I still had not even tried the most symbolic fruit here; I immersed in my own thoughts and self-pity while others returned to their normal mode of emotion.

I determined to try...to apply this magical method of predicting destiny...

However, my notorious frugality overwhelmed me once and once again. Whenever I was exposed in front of a durian stall, antagonistic thoughts combatted within my mind: buy it, and predict your future...; do not, think about how little money you have, never develop the bad habit of extravangance, it is not the proper time to indulge into such a luxury in such a hasty manner...compare, and decide...

Thus, I was dragged by my own weakness until last Friday, standing in front a durian stall, my feet could hardly buffle forward. The shrewd businessman perceived my willingness to buy and exerted all his strength to eliminate my hesitation. Trying to ignore the overwhelming price tags on those lovely slices of fruit meat, I started to grope my purse in my handbag. A deal which delighted both traders ensued...

I walked all the way hpme with the unique smell of this magical fruit, reluctant to lose every inhaling without its companion. All my knowledge about this fruit before was its pungent smell, and I have always been gazing at the sign in the MRT trains indicating"NO DURIAN", being captived by the uniqueness of this fruit...and now, it is lying quietly in a plastic bag beside me, letting out its aroma with ease and tranquill.

I was determined to let this appetizer touch my taste buds as soon as I went back to my "home" (I always regard my cosy area up to 14 square metres as "home" to deliberately eschew the aggitating sense of homelessness). The only and the most important explanation was that I did not want the lunch to wear out my appetite which had been successfully whetted up by the stuff beside me. So, I hurried to wash my hands after unlocking the door with impatience churning in my stomach and then sat stiffly on my chair, staring at thia little thing, brewing the emotion which was essential in the process of prediction the future......

I carefully picked up one and had a bite...

The answer was delightfully obvious...

I soon finished up the whole box, except for one piece which I deliberately left for my sister to predict hers...with great reluctance...

Sniffing again and again at the only left piece of durian, I finally managed to resist its temptation with considerable determination.

That was how I got the answer of the question which had been plaguing me for more than a season...

That was how I began to cherish my attachment to this country...as I know it is rare..