I received the news of his passing about 5 hours after it happened, while getting ready to go to work. It was not entirely surprising. Mr Lee was already very old and had been ill for some time; recent news on his condition had seemed more and more dire. Still, it was a shock to know that the man who had been such an integral figure in Singapore's modern history, is truly gone.
The atmosphere that morning in the civil service organization where I work was quieter and heavier than usual. I deliberately wore black to work as I was in no mood to dress colorfully that morning, and noticed quite a few of the ladies at work in black too. A fellow public servant from a statutory board that my department worked closely with emailed me to comment that the atmosphere at her office was somber too. The whole nation, in fact, was in mourning. I checked the news online regularly and there was a constant outpouring of tributes, grief and condolences from within and outside Singapore. The state broadcaster had changed its red and white corporate colors to white and black. Mainstream television featured a continuous stream of documentaries commemorating Mr Lee and his significant contributions to Singapore. This was the beginning of the official one week of national mourning that our Prime Minister (who is also Mr Lee's eldest son) declared.
Life had to go on however. At work, it was the usual emails, case investigations, meetings and engagements. Come lunchtime, though, my colleagues and I would talk about Mr Lee, the tributes and commemorations happening all over Singapore. A topic that was frequently discussed was the queue of colossal proportions formed by Singaporeans wanting to pay their last respects to Mr Lee after he was brought to the Parliament House to lie in state. Nothing like it had ever been seen in Singapore before. The queue was several kilometers long and waiting could be up to about 8 hours long depending on what time you arrived to queue. Tens of thousands of Singaporeans remained undaunted though and were willing to brave the queue just to pay their last respects to our major founding father. When they finally reached Mr Lee, people were told to bow and then file past quickly so as to make way for the tens and thousands of others queuing behind. But there were folks who lingered a little longer to kowtow, salute, cry and pray. It was amazing.
My family and I did not queue up. We were willing to pay our last respects and queue for a few hours, but 8 hours was just too daunting. I paid tribute in my own small ways. At work, I wrote a simple tribute in the condolences book and attended an internal reflections session to commemorate Mr Lee. I recall a male colleague sitting next to me at the session who burst into tears when talking about Mr Lee's contributions and I awkwardly reached out to pat him on the shoulder. It was my first time seeing a man cry in front of me. At home, my Ma and I visited the nearest community tribute center to pay our respects. It was quite crowded with people of all ages. There was a corner where an immense pile of cards, flowers and condolences messages were piled up in front of portraits of Mr Lee. I bowed three times along with others, uttered a quiet thank you to Mr Lee and wrote a couple of tributes.
Today is the last day of national mourning. It rained heavily just before the state funeral procession began at 12.30 pm. That still did not stop the procession from embarking on a long and wet travel from the Parliament House to the University Cultural Center. Nor did it stop thousands of Singaporeans who turned up along the route to wave Singapore flags, cheer "Lee Kuan Yew!" and throw flowers at the cortege. We watched the procession and the funeral service live on TV. Eulogies were delivered before guests from Singapore and about 20 other nations. The most poignant moment for me was when the lone bugler played "The Last Post" towards the end of the service. A very fitting tribute to the man who worked so hard for his country for most of his life. The service ended with the national pledge and anthem.
My family and I were not done with saying our goodbyes yet though. Upper Thomson Road, which was the road the cortege would use to travel to Mandai Crematorium, happened to be near our house. Many others were there as well to say their final goodbyes to Mr Lee. The roads were slowly cleared by the police until only police cars, police motorbikes and other authorized vehicles remained. When the cortege finally arrived, there were cheers of "Lee Kuan Yew!", flags waving and camera phones whipped out. I wanted to be fully present in that moment so I simply waved my Singapore flag and kept an eye out for the gun carriage carrying Mr Lee. Soon enough, for a few seconds, it was right before me. Mr Lee's coffin, draped with the Singapore flag, in a glass case at the back of the gun carriage. I may not have queued with the tens and thousands of others but I did see Mr Lee in the end. I said a quiet thank you and good bye as he went right by. Then, just as quickly as he arrived, he was gone. I am very glad I got to say a final thank you and goodbye to Mr Lee.
I am writing this to remember a somber moment in Singapore's modern history, from my own point of view. I am sad about Mr Lee's passing. He is, after all, an integral architect in the development of modern Singapore. However, I cannot say that I grieve for him, because I have never known him deeply and personally enough to mourn. I was not of the generation that lived through the same tumultuous years after the war and post-independence as Mr Lee. Nor did I grow up along with Singapore as it transformed from a third world country to the glittering modern metropolis it is today. Mr Lee was the significant founding father who I learnt about in history classes, read about in various media and saw on television. Mr Lee therefore did not mean as deeply and personally to me as some of the older folks who went to great lengths just to be able to pay their respects to "Old Lee".
What is Mr Lee to me then? An inspiration. From what I have learnt about him via secondary sources and the parts of his memoir I have read, Mr Lee is a visionary leader who fought long and hard for all that he believed in. I respect his and his colleagues' tenacity and grit in building a nation from scratch against all odds. I am touched by the stories I heard of his dedication to his country. Most of all, I admire his eloquence and his ability to speak with such conviction. While I do not agree with everything he said or did, I do like the way he stands by his beliefs and puts them across with such passion. I do wish I could have met him while he was still alive and hear him speak with his characteristic fieriness, there is a lot that I could learn from him about the art of persuasion.
I think the best way to remember Mr Lee is to embody his forward looking, never-say-die fighting spirit. Mr Lee did in fact have some words of wisdom for young people like me. Among the many inspirational quotes attributed to him that have been shared all over the media, this one spoke most directly to me:
“Thirty years ago, my colleagues, younger and more dreamy eyed, settled the words of our pledge. We did not focus our minds on our navels or we would have missed the rainbow in the sky. We pursued that rainbow and that was how we came to build today’s Singapore ... For the young, let me tell you the sky has turned brighter. There’s a glorious rainbow that beckons those with the spirit of adventure. And there are rich findings at the end of the rainbow. To the young and to the not-so-old, I say, look at that horizon, follow that rainbow, go ride it."Rest in peace, Mr Lee. I know I've said this many times already, but thank you. I am going to go forth and chase after some rainbows.
