A Singaporean In Australia

The first ten years of my life was unforgettable because of Pelvin. He was 2 years older than me, born in the year of Dragon, good looking, intelligent, witty, polite and funny. Adults had endless praises for him, girls loved him, boys wished they were gays but loved him all the same as straights and the younger ones like me looked up to him. Everyone called him Mun Zai, as our term of endearment.

If people love the movie "Frozen" I could only say that was a remake. For Pelvin would be the almighty Elsa who could wave magic with his farts and I would be a starry-eye silly Anna amazed by everything he did. I was pretty sure at some point I went up to knock on his door and asked if he would like to build a sandcastle with me. 

Pelvin was ridiculously strong for his age, with forearms muscles formed like a teen. He taught me how to draw intricate drawings, such as a Chinese dragon that I thought he copied from somewhere but I never saw a similar version anywhere since. He performed simple but stunning magic tricks that wowed me and was generous enough to teach me a few. One of the trick, making a toothpick jump up from through mock telekinesis was never found in any magic trick books I flipped through later in life. I have no idea how he learn his magic tricks, given the fact he had no materials to learn from then. He could make weird but working gadgets from everyday items, again, not found anywhere in science books available to us. Whenever he told a joke, he had that uncanny restrain to keep a straight face even after his audience burst into laughter and when I was 9, he saved me from drowning. To me, Pelvin was the superhero, not Captain Planet, Spiderman nor Superman. I would not be able to list out the intriguing moments he conjured in a single post.

One of the funny antics Pelvin did was to exhale a puff of "smoke" from his mouth. As usual, everyone present stared at him in amazement. He jokingly told us he was born in the year of dragon and that was why he could do it and pointed out I could run so fast because I was the horse. After everyone called bullshit, he proceeded to show us the trick. It was simple yet annoying difficult trick to master that involved compressing air in our lungs and slowly exhaling to create a mist-like appearance. Nothing much useful but it was funny like hell for us.

When I moved out of the neighborhood at 10, I saw Pelvin four more times in my life. Once during a sprinting race the Sports Day in Secondary School where he bravely came second in a race impossible to win. The second time in the Polytechnic Student Affairs Centre where we exchanged a few words. The third was at the bus stop below Commonwealth MRT station after he came back from his studies in Manchester. The fourth was on the hospital bed, where he could barely whisper yet managed a weak smile and told me he would be alright. 

He died at 26 to Leukemia.