Singapore’s Tamil Writers: Works on Social Progression in Post Independence Singapore

By Maalan

Introduction

As a Chinese adage goes, “the sparrow though small, has all five organs”. Nothing could be truer than this for Tamil writing in Singapore – though the number of Tamil literary works produced might be small compared to other countries, Singapore’s Tamil literature is complete in its various aspects such as heritage, genres and aesthetics. Long before Tamil writing arrived on today’s postmodern landscape, creative migrant voices were already heard from Singapore and drew inspiration from well-known writers from back home in India.

The first collection of poetry from Singapore as well as the region written in Tamil, Munajattut Tirattu, was printed at J. Paton Government Printer in Singapore in 1872.¹ Singai Vartamani, the first Tamil newspaper in the Malay Peninsula, appeared in Singapore in 1875.² The first anthology of Tamil short stories, Navarasa Katha Manjari, was published in Singapore in 1930.³ Singapore was the first in the world to launch, on the Internet, an anthology of poems in all four official languages, called Poemnet. In October 1995, then-president of Singapore Ong Teng Cheong launched the anthology Journey: Words, Home and Nation – Anthology of Singapore Poetry (1984–1995) on Poemnet.⁴

Tamil writing in Singapore also portrays changing social realities. “Kudirai Pandhya Lavani”, a 1893 folk-style poem about horse racing in the country, describes lively street scenes. After Singapore became independent in 1965, the Singapore literati grew sensitive to new realities, which was reflected in their works of that time.

Tamils in Singapore are in the paradoxical position of being the majority in the Indian community, but yet are a minority of the four races in the country – this, however, is seldom reflected in their writings. The journey of Tamil writing in Singapore is akin to travelling on a train in broad daylight, passing by a variety of landscapes, people and postures. Similarly, post-independence, literary writing in Tamil has met with starts and stops. It eventually found its way in the 1970s, settled on its pace in the 1980s and picked up swift momentum from the 1990s.

For this paper, I have restricted my study to fiction and poetry in Singapore Tamil literature written between 1965 and 2015. The authors mentioned in this paper have won coveted literary awards in Singapore and abroad. The original quotes in Tamil have been listed in Appendix I.

Becoming an Independent Nation

Unlike many countries in Asia that fought bitterly for independence, Singapore became a republic like a “bolt from blue”⁵ on 9 August 1965. The country remembers the historic press conference during which founding Prime Minister Lee Kuan Yew was in tears as he announced Singapore’s separation from the Federation of Malaysia.

For the fledgling government, the challenges for a country with no natural resources involved many pressing “bread and butter” issues, including developing a robust economy and building a strong armed forces. The determined work and far-sighted intelligence of the founding cabinet brought about considerable improvements in the lives of many Singaporeans. According to well-known sociologist Dr A. Veeramani, the three major initiatives that transformed the lives of Singaporeans were “housing, education and the rapid pace of economic growth”.⁶

At first, the local media and communities believed that the separation was merely a miscommunication and that Singapore would eventually re-join Malaysia.⁷ Later, as reality sank in, poets produced works praising Singapore and its leadership.

K. Perumal produced 133 songs and poems about the new nation in Singapore Padalkal (Hymns on Singapore).⁸ In the book’s preface, V.T. Arasu says, “Out and out all the songs are on Singapore. Yet the poet has not drowned the songs on the description of the landscape and in exaggeration.

On the contrary, he points out the basic values of Singapore.”⁹ Paranan, a 1986 S.E.A. Write Award winner, devoted 19 out of 100 poems to praising the republic in his collection Thoni (Boat).¹⁰

National Day has been particularly inspiring for poets. During the country’s 10th anniversary, 1986 Cultural Medallion winner Na. Palanivelu wrote a eulogy, “Kadamai” (“Duty”):

Ten years of independent rule
Has made us undeniably world renowned
Small pearl like clusters of islands fronting it
Our Singapore emerges like a diamond radiating in all directions
Telling for the splendour and affluence of the land
Let us put our earnest resolve to prosper further
This is our duty¹¹

Poet Naa. Aandeappan describes Singapore as a “classy diamond / in the saline sea” in “Uyarthara Vairam” (“Classy Diamond”).¹² In a similar fashion, poet Pichinikkadu Elango symbolises “Singapore as golden plate floating in deep sea” in his work “August 9”.¹³

From Kampong to HDB

As Singapore underwent rapid urbanisation, several hundred kampong (village) houses were transformed into high-rise apartments. By 1962, in just two years, the Housing Board (HD B) had built 26,168 flats, almost equalling the number of units its predecessor, the Singapore Improvement Trust (SIT ), built in 32 years. By the end of 1965, its tally exceeded 50,000 units.¹⁴ In only nine years, some 150,000 people had been resettled.¹⁵

For many Singaporeans, the relocation from rickety attap houses with no electricity to concrete blocks with tiled floors was a journey from a primitive past to a promising future; from aggravation to advantage; and from misery to modernity.

Mayandiambalam Balakrishnan (Singai. Ma. Elangkannan), the first Tamil writer to receive the S.E.A. Write Award in 1982, depicts the excitement of arriving at a new flat:

Getting down from the taxi, Velu and Ezhilarsi looked up at the highrise building. “Do you see a sari drying on the cloth line? At the 10th floor? That is our house. Maragatham also got a flat close to us,” said Muthammal, walking towards the elevator. The flat looked nice. Floors were paved with tiles. The kitchen looked clean and neat. Peeping into the kitchen, Velu expressed his surprise, “Is this our kitchen?” ¹⁶

Like Velu in Elangkannan’s story, many Tamil poets were excited about the new high-rise apartments, which softened the pains of relocation. Na. Palanivelu, recipient of the Cultural Medallion, claimed in his poems that the old miseries had vanished like a dream when he moved into his HD B flat.¹⁷ K.T.M. Iqbal, an eminent poet and recipient of both the S.E.A. Write Award and Cultural Medallion, was fascinated by the cloud-kissing skyscrapers.¹⁸ Paranan, another veteran poet, seemed even more awestruck by tall residential flats that blocked the sun.¹⁹

C. Kumarasami, a veteran Tamil activist, describes the misery of living in cramped quarters in “Life in Pasir Panjang”:

Crowded in a small space, people lived in huts in kampongs. Most of the huts were single-room accommodations, and in many of them, there were no kitchens. One had to cook, eat and sleep in that small room. And there were no cots to sleep in. Every family had four or five children. Like seeds arranged in a pod, all of them slept next to each other. Yet efforts for procreating another child was also initiated in that milieu.²⁰

Perhaps more importantly, there was less fear. The kampongs were rife with gangsters, whom landlords often hired to evict tenants. Former Member of Parliament Pathmanaban Selvadurai recounts an experience in Bukit Panjang: From Kampong to Town:

"I had a representative from this company – he saw me in my branch and said, 'We will help you in getting rid of the Barisan Sosialis (an opposition political party) because all these squatters were Barisan Sosialis supporters. If [we support them] they [will] send in their gangsters and employ strong-arm tactics.' I had to tell them: 'Well, look, thank you very much, we are a government party, we can’t indulge in that kind of activities. But if you give these fellows a fair deal in terms of compensation, I will assist you, fellows, to get [the squatters] out.'" ²¹

Noorjahan Sulaiman also mentions the gangsters in her novel Vergal (Roots): “In those days there were gangsters in kampongs, almost in every street.”²²

However, high-rise living placed new pressures on the pocket. In the radio drama series Aduku Veetu Annasami (Annasami and his Apartment), broadcast weekly for 52 weeks, Cultural Medallion recipient Pudumaithasan (P. Krishnan) expressed the pinch on the wallet:

Santhammal: Did you notice how comfortable this house is? There is a hall, a bathroom and kitchen. We lived in a kampong. You were so adamant to stay there. But, now look at this place. Nice, isn’t it?

Arockiasamy: What was the rent you were paying there? Do you remember? It was 15 dollars. And the rent here? 46.5 dollars. If you add water and electricity charges, it would easily exceed 55 dollars.

Santhammal: This being an HDB flat, the rent is limited to 46.5 dollars. Go and check what the rent would have been had this been a private flat; the rent would have been 80 or 100 dollars.

Arockiasami: Should comfort cost that much? Can’t that be made available for 15 dollars?²³

There were other challenges, too. For many Singaporeans, the transition to high-rise living caused much distress. Everyone had to grapple with losing the kinship formed with their former neighbours. All had to get used to living among strangers of different races. Some were afraid of lifts and resorted to taking the stairs. Others sorely missed rearing livestock and poultry.

Kanagalatha, who writes under the pseudonym Latha, expressed the anguish of the loss of comradeship due to relocation through one of her characters in the short fiction piece, Veedu (Home):

We were moving with each other like sisters, but the relocation threw us apart to different directions. Having been accustomed to living close to the ground and next to trees, I found high-rise living challenging. It was living as if confined to four walls and was suffocating. I couldn’t sleep and it took a long time for me to adjust to the new surroundings.²⁴

Mayandiambalam Balakrishnan (Singai. Ma. Elangkannan) painted a poignant picture of parting with cattle in his novel Ninaivukalin Kolangal (Designs of Memories):

Those standing in the truck pulled the cow by the rope in its nose. Refusing to walk in, the cow pulled them back. A person standing behind the cow twisted its tail to nudge it forward. The cow, still resisting, plodded into the truck. It shivered in fear and shat. Thrusting its neck forward, it cried helplessly, “Moo!” Tears appeared in the eyes of Maragatham, who was watching its plight. It appeared to her as if the cow were crying Amma [mother] towards her. She turned aside. And there stood the cow with black spotted skin. It had become barren now. Her husband Murugaiya used to often say, “We became better off with her. Let us not sell it. Let her die here.” Her husband’s words passed through her mind. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Unable to bear the sight she rushed in.²⁵

National Service

After Singapore became independent and British troops withdrew from the region, government leaders were forced to re-think their defence strategy. Initially, a part-time reservist force, the People’s Defence Force, with 3,200 volunteers was formed. However, Minister for Interior and Defence Goh Keng Swee realised that with Singapore’s population being at less than two million, it was impossible to form and maintain a large regular army like those in neighbouring countries.²⁶ Thus he proposed a citizens’ army and the National Service Act was passed in July 1967.

For the conscripted, enlistment evoked two emotions: pride and sadness. S. Rajaratnam wrote, “When young Chinese, Malays, Indians and Eurasians train together to defend and die for their country, then they become true blood brothers.”²⁷ On the other hand, being away from family would cause sadness; according to a Mr Lee, “[s]oldiers and uniforms of any type used to have unhappy memories for us”.²⁸

Rama Kannapiran, a 1990 S.E.A. Write Award winner, expressed both these sentiments in his story “Tanah Merah Diary”.²⁹ Kannapiran’s contemporary, Se. Ve. Shanmugam, said of the book:

Amot, the drill master, a benevolent man under the guise of a strict disciplinarian, touches our heart, relegating the main characters to the background, in Tanah Merah Diary. If a character, which is minor and appears for a fraction of a second in a story, can move us, then it is a testament to the skill of the author.³⁰

Educational Policies

Bilingualism During their colonial rule, the British government allowed Singapore’s various ethnic communities to educate their children in their respective mother tongue languages. After Independence, the Singapore government saw the potential of the English language for both building the economy and uniting the different ethnic groups. Hence a bilingual model was embraced, with English as the medium of instruction in schools and the official mother tongue of the students taught as a second language.

Tamil schools in Singapore, mostly founded by the working class and through public contributions, served a two-fold purpose: educating its members in their mother tongue and establishing their identity.³¹ When the bilingual policy was implemented, many Tamil parents felt that an Englishmedium education would pave the way for better career opportunities and enrolled their children in English schools. This change resulted in the quick demise of Tamil schools.

Eminent poet Paranan strongly advocated the move towards bilingualism in his poem “Iru Vizhigal” (“Two Eyes”):

Only when our Tamil children
Learn Tamil, the mother tongue
And English, the global tongue
Their future will flourish
Hence
Beloved parents
I plead with you
With folded hands
To let your children
Learn Tamil and English ³²

Interestingly, Rama Kannapiran, an English teacher speaking about his apprehension about the future of Tamil as a home language, categorised the Tamil community into three groups: those who spoke only Tamil, those who spoke only English and those who spoke a mix of both languages. One of the characters in his novella Vazhvu (Life) expresses anxiety about the third group, whose members, described as being in a transitional phase, could neglect their mother tongue language.³³

Kannapiran’s fears about Tamil speakers losing their ability to speak their mother tongue may have come true.³⁴

Proportion who spoke english most Frequently at home among resident population aged 5 years and over by ethnic group and age group

According to the 2010 Census of Population:

Concurrent with the rise in the level of English literacy, the usage of English at home became more prevalent. Correspondingly, the use of Malay and Tamil as a home language was less prevalent among the Malays and Indians respectively in 2010 compared to 2000.³⁵

Primary School Leaving Examination (PSLE)

First implemented between 2 and 4 November 1960,³⁶ the PSLE national examination system was revised in 1992, when a review committee proposed ways to improve Singapore’s education system.³⁷

Under the new scheme, the PSLE would measure students by the T-Score Aggregate, which would show how well a student had performed in his four subjects relative to other students in the same cohort.³⁸ The T-Score Aggregate is the first criterion that impacts admission to secondary schools of the students’ choice.

The meritocracy-based system has caused many parents to fear that their children would fall behind. Writer Azhagunila captures both the children’s stress and parents’ anxiety in her short story “Aranju” (“six five”):³⁹

Mom has banned me from computer games, cartoons, PSP and soccer – all with the same excuse of Primary Five! Primary Six! On days without school, dad used to go out with me and Rahul. Now he doesn’t bring me anywhere. The numbers five and six make me feel sick. I’ d love it if someone could tell me the secret to joining secondary school without having to sit for the PSLE.

On 13 July 2016, the Ministry of Education announced changes to the PSLE scoring system: the aggregate score for the PSLE would be replaced with wider scoring bands from 2021.⁴⁰ However, debates on PSLE are unlikely to cease in the near future.

Women and Marriage

Singapore ranked among the top 15 (out of 155) countries in the 2014 United Nations Human Development Index (HDI ); it was the top Asian country for gender equality.⁴¹ Modern Singapore women enjoy similar access to education and employment as men. The employment rate for women was at one of its highest levels: 76 percent for the prime working ages of 25 to 54.⁴² Girls also outnumbered boys in higher education.

Level of Education by Gender. Census of Population 2010 / Singapore Department of Statistics (2010)

As educated career persons, women increasingly prefer to remain single, delay marriage or seek a divorce.⁴³

In the Indian community, less than 1 percent of women below the age of 20 entered into matrimony in 2015, compared to more than 50 percent in the 1980s. Currently, more than 50 percent of women prefer to marry after the age of 30.⁴⁴

Age of Women at the Time of Marriage (%). 2015 figures are based on statistics on marriages and divorces. Singapore Department of Statistics (2015) Statistics on Marriages and Divorces. Retrieved from singstat.gov.sg

The Census of Population 2010 confirms the trends of delayed marriages and higher divorce rates:

The proportion of singles among the resident population rose from 30 percent in 2000 to 32 percent in 2010. This reflected the postponement in marriages and greater tendency for individuals to remain unmarried. The proportion who were either divorced or separated increased from 2.5 percent in 2000 to 3.3 percent in 2010.
⁴⁵

[…] The increase in the proportion of singles between 2000 and 2010 was more prominent for the younger age groups. Among Singapore citizens aged 30–34 years, the proportion of singles rose significantly from 33 percent to 43 percent for the males, and from 22 percent to 31 percent for the females.⁴⁶

In the late 1980s and early 1990s, writers discussed the issues of marriage as an institution that denies self-esteem, identity and freedom to women, as well as the modern woman’s increasing assertiveness.

Elangovan, a 1997 S.E.A. Write Award winner, illustrates the loss of identity in a father’s tale to his daughter, Nisha, in the play Talaq (Divorce):

There was a beautiful salt doll. It did not know what it was. So it journeyed for thousands of miles over land until it finally came to the sea. It was fascinated by this strange moving mass, quite unlike anything it had ever seen before. It kept watching the huge waves.

Hey, who are you? Said the salt doll to the sea.

The sea smilingly replied, come and see. You will find out. So the doll waded into the sea bravely. The farther it walked into the sea the more it dissolved, until there was only its mouth left. Before that bit dissolved, the salt doll smiled peacefully and exclaimed in wonder, “Now I know what I am.” It disappeared without a name among the waves as a wave.

Nisha, you are like that salt doll. The bridegroom who has come from Singapore to marry you is the sea. Henceforth, he is everything to you.⁴⁷

In the short story Amaipu (System) by Naa. Govindasamy, another S.E.A. Write Award winner (1994), the female protagonist expresses her anguish over the loss of freedom in marriage:

I believe woman loses her individuality and freedom when she enters into wedlock with a man. In this male-dominated society, women have been used as objects of pleasure for many centuries. Men have used women for their selfish ends. The marriage laws that are in vogue, are also drafted in men’s interests. Woman will be emancipated unless the system changes. ⁴⁸

Singapore literary pioneer Se. Ve. Shanmugam advises women to rely on themselves in order to live honourably and freely, and to think carefully before entering into matrimony.⁴⁹

However, there are some women who, not receiving respect and freedom, opt to leave the marriage, even if it means raising their children by themselves. Suriya Rethnna, a recipient of the Mont Blanc Young Writers’ Fellowship in 1998 and the 2014 Karikalan Award of Tamil University (Thanjavur, India), describes the pride and plight of a single mother in the moving story Iraivanin Kuzhanthai ( God’s Own Child ).⁵⁰

In his award-winning story, Kolangal ( Designs ), Seetha Lakshmi brings out the flip side of divorce: the loneliness of a man in search of a soulmate after two failed marriages. The story is told from the unique angle of a father seeking permission from his adolescent son to remarry and reinforces the inevitable role of family and unavoidable divorce, a paradox of modern society.⁵¹

Shaanavas, whose short story collection, Moontravathu Kai (Third Arm), won the Singapore Literary Prize in 2014, believes that the lack of understanding, more than lack of love, is the cause of failed marriages; he addresses this in his story “Pesa Mozhi” (“Unspoken Language”).⁵²

Economic Growth

American businessman and politician Mitt Romney once said, “Dependency is death to initiative, risk-taking and opportunity.” Singapore has exemplified this as seen by its astounding economic growth over the last 50 years, which were in part due to two strategic decisions made soon after independence, though unconventional at the time: to shift away from import-substitution in favour of export-led industrialisation, and to attract global multinational corporations as vehicles to achieve industrial growth.

In 1965, Singapore’s nominal GDP per capita was about US $500, similar to that of Mexico and South Africa. In 1990, its GDP per capita rose to about US $13,000, surpassing South Korea, Israel and Portugal. In 2015, the GDP per capita was about US $56,000, similar to Germany and the United States.⁵³

Singapore’s extraordinary journey from third world to first is reflected in literary works such as Pon. Sundarasau’s short story “Ippadiyum oru Pizhaippu” (“A Livelihood of a Kind”) in the collection Ennathan Seyvathu (What to Do?).⁵⁴

On the other hand, the Singapore economy was buffeted by serious crises between 1974 and 2008, such as the 1974 international oil crisis, 1987 Singapore economic recession, the financial crises of 1998 and 2008, and 2003 outbreak of Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome (SARS ).

In his short story Oyvu (Retirement), S.E.A. Write Award winner P. Krishnan depicts the plight of a middle-class worker who loses his CPF savings, and subsequently his life, as a result of the stock market crash.⁵⁵

SARS

The outbreak of Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome (SARS ) in Singapore in February 2003 adversely impacted the economy and caused widespread fear among Singapore residents. Many hospital staff bore the brunt of the paranoia.

In the Straits Times report “They were shunned for treating Sars patients”, published one decade after the outbreak, Tan Tock Seng Hospital (TTSH) staff members Rose Herdawati, Siva Sevakame and Vasanthi Palanivelu recounted their experiences during the period:

“Whenever the train reached Novena, it would become passenger-free,” remembered Ms Sevakame. “We would take showers and change before going back, but somehow they’d know we were nurses and start moving away. So I didn’t have to worry about not getting a place to sit,” she added with a laugh.

[…] The prejudice was not just from strangers, but from neighbours and family too. Ms Herdawati remembered how neighbours who used to exchange cooked food with her mother stopped doing so. Ms Sevakame was then renting a room in an Yishun flat that, with her husband, they shared with her landlady and the landlady’s three teenage children. When her landlady got wind that Ms Sevakame might have contracted SARS, she tried to evict the couple.⁵⁶

In her story “Mukhangal” (“Faces”), written in 2003 itself, writer Jayanthi Sankar captured the negative social aspects mentioned in the Straits Times report – the avoidance by neighbours, neglect by the public and threat of eviction. The story stands as a testament to human behaviour during a lifethreatening epidemic.⁵⁷

Conclusion

Tamil writers in Singapore may have initially drawn inspiration and modelled their writing styles after Indian pioneer writers originating from Tamil Nadu, India, but Tamil writing in Singapore is different in many crucial ways.

Indian writing, which has a long history, was first nurtured by mainstream media and then through writing competitions organised by magazines. The writers who pioneered the early literary moments in India were exposed to European and Russian literature as well as works from Latin America. This enabled them to root their works within well-tailored forms and in different genres.

However, publishing opportunities for Singapore Tamil writers have been very limited, and there has been little room for avant-garde or experimental work. The pioneering Tamil writers, deprived of the rich literary exposure of their Indian counterparts, wrote out of their passion for language and literature, and in response to changing social situations in Singapore.

In this study, I have focused on Singapore Tamil writers and how their works have reflected the social transformations from Singapore’s independence to 2015. I have not performed a qualitative assessment of the works as that is out of the purview of this paper.

In conclusion, I have found that while Singapore Tamil writers have been responding to the various changes in the country in the last 50 years and reflecting the voices of their community, they have not done so with conviction. While they have voiced their concerns about the social and economic transformations, they have done so only within the narrow framework of their home or neighbourhood. None of the writers have initiated any literary movements through their works, and political discourse has been rare. Further, more can be done to nurture, develop and encourage young readers and writers. (See Appendix III for suggestions for nurturing young readers.)

About the Author
Maalan is an established Tamil writer who has published more than 19 books. His stories have been translated and published in various English- and Indian-language magazines such as Illustrated Weekly of India. He has over 30 years of experience as a journalist and editor for leading Tamil newspapers and television stations in India. He has served in university senates and advisory boards such as the Tamil Advisory Board of Sahitya Akademi, National Book Trust of India and the Editorial Board of Translations Today. He has also been involved in various committees in the government of India and government of Tamil Nadu.