Clearing out boxes of old books which my family decided to donate to the Salvation Army, was a surprisingly harrowing yet sentimental experience.
As a primary school boy, what I looked forward to every weekend after tuition was not playing at the arcade nor eating fast food, but the visits to the now-defunct MPH Book store at Parkway Parade. Mum would indulge me by buying me a book of my choice every Sunday.
Hoisting book by book into the "clearance box", I tunneled back into my childhood- I grew up in the chocolate factories and glass elevators of Roald Dahl, learnt about growing up from Judy Blume, and defied mum's generosity by buying "trash" like the Goosebumps series, and learn about Singaporean idiosyncrasies through the "Mr Kiasu" series.
I was then fast-forwarded to my secondary school days, where I took much joy and pride in reading Literature. Pulling out texts like 'Roll of thunder hear my cry', 'Lord of the Flies' and 'Gulliver's Travels' reminded me not just of the lessons learnt but the good times with my classmates.
I will always have a soft spot for the humanities, especially Literature, because it constantly teaches me about the human condition, something science simply cannot satisfy, even now in university.
