Gregory Nalpon

“There used to be a rubbish heap under the great tree in Dhoby Ghaut with a sarabat stall parked next to it. It was a low, sprawling rubbish heap made up of the usual things—refuse from dustbins, paper, old tins and slippers and leaves from the tree above. Then one day, people forgot about it. They found a new dumping place and the old rubbish heap settled low on the ground. Time passed and its contents became warm and rich and fertile and people living in the area would take away potfuls of it to plant flowers in.

Somehow, a rose cutting, slim as a cheeping chicken’s leg and almost brown, appeared on the rubbish heap one day.”
― Gregory Nalpon, The Wayang at Eight Milestone: Stories & Essays

“The affair of the near-divorce was precipitated by my son, Zero. Yes, Zero. If we had had another girl, she would by common consent have been Francesca Bella. But I was quite clear in my mind that a boy would be nothing other than Zero. Think of it, he can never be less than Zero! His is a natural platform for achievement. Every mark scored in schooll, every act in his life cannot but be a logical advancement. And if his first initial appears on his test paper as well, he does not own the copyright to it, does he?”
― Gregory Nalpon