After Sujesh had checked in, we had dinner in a restaurant nearby. It was very tiring for me but I did my best not to dampen the mood of those I love around me. We had a good dinner but then found out that Sujesh’s flight had been delayed from midnight to 3:00 am because of technical problems. Already feeling so tired, I just couldn’t wait with Sujesh any longer. He was unperturbed by the delay and called up his friends who lived in the east to join him and help him pass the time. It was already so late into the night and I was grateful that Sujesh had friends who care this much for him. One of those friends who agreed to meet him is a dear girl called Sabrina, who is a few years older than my son. She is always so obliging to him. I could see that she really cared for him like an older sister would.
Vimi, Subhas and Sujesh eight years later, Christmas Eve, 2014.
After we had left the restaurant and were at the lobby saying our goodbyes, Sujesh turned to me, looking all grown up and strong, and gave me a hug and said, “Papa, I’ll see you in one month’s time when I come back in June.”
Feeling very tired, weak and unsure of what tomorrow would bring, I said, “I will see you when I see you,” as I held his hand. He just looked at me, holding back his emotions and walked away.
You see, I don’t take things for granted anymore. I just cannot say that whatever I want will definitely happen. Who knows, with my condition, if I will be alive or not in one month’s time? Those around me were emotionally shaken into reality that that was so true.
The poor boy had to wait the whole night as the flight was further delayed and only took off at 6:45 am. I was just glad that part of the time was spent with friends who cared for him.
Although Sujesh is reading law, there is a chance he may not want to practise it. He likes to keep his options open till later. I have told him that I have no objection to whatever he wants to do because that is his life. I have to accept certain decisions he makes. This past one-month vacation was for him to study and prepare for his first-year exams. I saw him studying very little, but then I can’t say much because I, too, only studied at the last minute. He is a lot like me in many ways and I am confident he will do well in life as a good person.
The Anandan family, Chinese New Year, 2011.
FIFTEEN
OBSESSIVE LOVE
The case of Pathip Selvan s/o Sugumaran vs Public Prosecutor is a case that I would like to mention because there is a very important virtue from it that teenagers today must learn — tolerance.
Pathip Selvan s/o Sugumaran, otherwise known as Marsiling Baby because he lived in Marsiling, was going out with a girl named Jeevitha Panippan, a kindergarten teacher, for some time. He was crazily in love with her but the same thing could not be said of her. She flirted around and had other boyfriends, and she made use of Pathip whenever she wanted to. To make him jealous, sometimes she would ask him to go to her flat where she stayed with her father (her parents were divorced) and tell him to look through her window. He would do so only to see her sleeping with one of her other boyfriends.
Whenever Pathip went over to her flat, he would discover the truth, seeing a stranger in his girlfriend’s room. There were many occasions when he threatened her with a knife, saying he would kill her. Each time he threatened her, she relented and apologized, and they would make up.
On one occasion, Pathip and Jeevitha had unprotected sex. She was troubled as she did not want to get pregnant. Pathip assured her that if she did get pregnant, he would marry her as he loved her. She was also afraid that he would abandon her even though Pathip assured her that if he did not love her, he would not have had sex with her. Despite his assurance and promise of marriage, she was still confused and made a complaint of rape to the police later that day.
That night, as he was nearing home, Pathip saw police officers in his house and decided not to enter in case they were looking for him. He called Kathik, their mutual friend, and asked him where his girlfriend was. He heard from Kathik that she had attempted suicide. Pathip decided not to return home until he found out what was going on.
A few days later, Pathip called his mother. She told him that his girlfriend had made a complaint to the police that Pathip had raped her. Pathip was desperate to reach her but could only do so through Kathik. He managed to speak to her then and when he asked her why she told the police he raped her, she broke down and cried. She said that she was confused and did not know why she had done that. She promised him that she would withdraw the complaint.
Subsequently, Pathip met with her father, Panippan, and informed him that he wanted to marry his daughter. “Out of curiosity, why do you want to marry my daughter suddenly?” Panippan asked. Pathip said that she was pregnant and had lodged a police report against him for raping her. All confused, Panippan said that he would discuss the matter with his daughter. The next day, she told Pathip over the telephone that she was unhappy that he had met with her father without her. She wanted him to surrender himself to the police, which he did the next day. He was released on bail and was warned not to see or talk to her until the case was concluded.
A few days later, she called Pathip to enquire how he was doing and informed him that she was going for a pregnancy test. She also said she would withdraw the complaint against him. After withdrawing the complaint, she went to Sentosa with him and spent the night there in a tent with him. She behaved as though everything was back to normal. After some time, she went back to the same routine again, provoking him by saying that she had other boyfriends and telling him to come to the flat and look through her bedroom window.
Pathip seriously wanted to marry her and was prepared to forgive her infidelity. They decided to try and settle things once more and he hoped to make her realise that what she was doing was wrong. So he made an appointment to see her. For some reason, he went to a shop and bought a sharp knife. He also bought her a Winnie the Pooh correction tape as a reconciliation gift. Initially he didn’t explain to the police why he had bought her a gift but instead said he had never intended to use the knife because it was enough to threaten her with it as she would start crying and would ask for forgiveness. “And so, now I will forgive her and give her this gift and everything will be alright.”
Pathip met Jeevitha at a coffee shop where she was sitting with her mother. Later he and Jeevitha took a walk to a park in Bishan area. He had planned to bring her to a secluded place to talk with her and threaten her. During the conversation she told him that the current boyfriend whom she was with and whom Pathip had seen, was a better lover than he was and a better man, too. This infuriated Pathip who, instead of just threatening her with the knife, stabbed her a number of times. He also snatched from her neck the chain that he had given her and fled to Johor Bahru.
From Johor Bahru he managed to call his mother, who went over to see him. He confessed to his mother what he had done. She asked him to return to Singapore but he didn’t want to. She advised him that he could not live as a fugitive forever. He decided to take her advice and came back to Singapore where he was arrested and charged for the murder.
His family came to me because they lived in Marsiling and knew of me as I used to live in Sembawang. Marsiling was a part of Sembawang. It is quite common for people in Sembawang who get into serious trouble to come to me. The boy’s parents asked me to help their son. They knew that their son had done something wrong but all they wanted was for him not to be hanged. They just wanted to try to save his life. I said, “We will do what we can but there is no guarantee.” I do not know why but they went around telling everybody that I guaranteed that their son would not be hanged. That is something no lawyer should do — give guarantees.
Anyway, when Jeevitha’s family came to know about this, they were very angry, thinking that Pathip was going to get off. They said that if he got off, they would take revenge and kill his sister. So it was getting a bit complicated and serious. Anyway, when I heard about it, I called his parents and told them to keep their mouths shut and not to say that I had given any
guarantee when I had not told them so. I added that if they did not follow instructions, I would discharge myself from further acting for their son. They kept quiet after that.
I interviewed Pathip in prison. He said he was very sorry for what he had done and he was prepared to face whatever consequences because he had killed the only girl whom he ever loved. He was also prepared to face the death sentence because life now had no more meaning without her.
When I told his parents his wishes, they were upset that he had given up the fight.
The next time I saw him, he said he was remorseful, that he didn’t want to die and he asked me to save his life. I assured him that I would do my best for him. I intended to use the sudden provocation argument, on the basis of the victim calling my client a lesser man and comparing him to other lovers. Under the law, this exchange amounted to sudden provocation, so we were quite confident we would be able to reduce the charge to culpable homicide. But the judge didn’t agree with us. He said it was a murder and convicted my client for murder and sentenced him to death. Of course, we were not happy with the decision and we appealed to the Court of Appeal on the basis that the trial judge was wrong in convicting Pathip as he had not considered two defences raised in the lower court — provocation and diminished responsibility. The Court of Appeal held that there was sudden provocation and that Parthip was entitled to that defence though they dismissed the defence of diminished responsibility. Justice VK Rajah, in delivering his judgement put it that this was a tragic case of a young couple who had a bitter-sweet relationship that culminated in a homicide.
You see, when we talk about sudden provocation, the sudden provocation has to be so grave and sudden that the person would have lost control when he did the act — and this was exactly what happened to Pathip when his girlfriend told him that the person whom she was caught with by Pathip was a better lover than he was. That was considered words that could be hurting and provocative. But this also depends on the type of society we live in. In certain countries and in certain societies, those words may not be considered provocative because they are acceptable, but in Asian societies and especially where the cultures of the people are different, these words can be considered very damaging.
Pathip genuinely loved his girlfriend but she was fooling around and this was quite obvious from the facts of the case. She had many boyfriends and it was a fact that she was using Pathip as just another boyfriend from whom she can get things. She went too far before she realised that Pathip was angry. Instead of reconciling with him like she used to do before this incident, she blurted out that her other boyfriend was a better lover. In fact, I think she said something like, “He performed better in bed than you.” Words of this nature are considered sufficient provocation.
You see, in this sort of matters, one should be careful with one’s language because one does not know how the other party is going to react. There could be a guy who could say, “If he is a better lover than I am, stick with him. I have nothing more to do with you,” and walk away. But then, there could be those who would react like Pathip. That is why I say that when parties are in a relationship, they should be very careful of what they say to each other because you do not know what would trigger off violence which could ultimately lead to death.
Pathip knew when he started his relationship with her that prior to him, she had 16 boyfriends. He was still prepared to have her as his girlfriend and to marry her. He even gave her a thalli (Hindu symbol of marriage) to profess his genuine love for her. He claimed that he did not care what she did in her past; what was important was the present and the future but obviously she was not on the same wavelength. She was thinking of having more and more fun and even when she was with Pathip, accepting his gifts, she was seeing other boys. In some sense she was asking for trouble.
On the day of the confrontation when Pathip pulled her behind the power station where the offence took place, and demanded to know “who was the man in the red shirt who was in bed with you this morning”, she was stunned that he had found out and she told him in Tamil, “He’s better than you in bed. That is why I am interested in him.” That was when Pathip took the knife and stabbed her. After stabbing her, he knelt down to kiss her on the right cheek before pulling off the thalli from around her neck. To him, it was exactly what it was — a matrimonial symbol of marriage — and that she was his wife. He threw the thalli aside and walked off. He said he had never been so sad when he heard what she said.
The Court of Appeal agreed with us and wanted to give Pathip life imprisonment. My nephew Sunil, who was there for the sentencing hearing (as I was in hospital), argued for ten years’ imprisonment and said that life imprisonment was too strict and should not be given. Subsequently, the Court of Appeal partially agreed with Sunil and handed down a sentence of 20 years’ imprisonment. This meant he would be out in around 13 years. Since Pathip was in his 20s, he still had a life to look forward to. I hope that he has learnt his lesson in prison. He would have a lot of time to reflect on what it was that was wrong.
Sometimes, I wonder why one has to do something so drastic as to kill a girl. If a girl doesn’t like you or if she compares you to somebody else, the best thing to do is to walk away. There are many girls who deserve your love. Go and find somebody else instead of getting into trouble.
SIXTEEN
MY DEAR FRIEND, FRANCIS
Francis Yeo was one of my best friends at university. We were admitted the same year, in 1966. He studied Business Administration and I read Law. He was short and did not look impressive. He would come down to play football on the campus field. I realised how determined he could be though. He was a tough player, competitive and very brave, not at all afraid to tackle people much bigger in size. I noticed the way he played and I said, “This guy. Don’t let his looks deceive you. He has a very strong character.”
True enough we became friends on the football field and once in a while when he met me in the Union House, he would have coffee with me and we became good friends. Subsequently, we realised that we shared the same sentiment towards the political situation in Singapore. We were young and very idealistic. We were always critical and trying our best to expose the establishment for what we thought they were; at least we thought we were doing our part in trying to save Singapore from a dictatorship.
Francis Yeo was a generous person. He had a scholarship and when he had excess money from the scholarship fund, he would spend it on all his friends. He was always there if we needed a handout. He never hesitated to give his money but, of course, he would dispense a piece of advice, too. Many a time he told me that I spent too much money, especially on girls. He said that I should be more careful but he still gave me money. We became very close when we went to support The Singapore Herald, a newspaper run by a Malaysian whom the Prime Minister of Singapore thought was there to sabotage Singapore and wanted to ban the newspaper. Jimmy Han, the Managing Editor of the newspaper was facing an uphill task fighting the People’s Action Party for its existence.
Francis Yeo, Sunny Chew, Sim Yong Chan, Danny Choo, Conrad Raj, Violet Oon and I went to help Jimmy Han along with many other university students. There was even talk at one time that Francis Yeo was going to take over the newspaper and that he was going to betray everybody else. But that was not true. I would trust Francis with my life. I would not expect him to betray anybody. Subsequently, despite all our efforts, the newspaper was closed. We all went our different ways. Francis went into business, Sunny Chew started his business as a company director and I went on to practise law.
At one stage, Francis Yeo went into the business with Sunny Chew. He injected money into Sunny’s warehousing services company to expand it, and friends like Leonard Cheng also came in to help. As good friends would be good friends, we trusted Sunny Chew to manage the business which was doing very well. Unfortunately, Sunny did not pay enough attention to the company. He was more interested in playing the share market. In the end, we had to sell out. Though we didn’t lose money,
we did not make the type of profit we could have made.
Francis was a kind and generous person. He was always trusting as a person and inevitably got taken for a ride by some of his partners in Malaysia who deserted him and left him to face the debts. He was disillusioned with doing business with friends and decided to work for the church. In his later years, he discovered he was plagued with the dreaded disease — cancer.
It was very disturbing to know that Francis was sick with a lifethreatening disease. There was not much I could do as a friend but to stand by him whenever he needed me. I visited him once or twice but he didn’t seem to be keen on having visitors. He seemed distant and he was not the Francis Yeo I used to know. I felt helpless and wanted so much to make him happy.
Quite often our mutual friend, Jill Kuok and her husband, Sandford Friedman, would come to Singapore from Hawaii to visit with their son and his family. Sometimes, Sandford and I would hang out for a drink at a nightclub owned by one of my clients. When I suggested asking Francis along with us on one of those outings, both Jill and Vimi thought that it was a good idea because they knew that they could trust us to look after Francis well. I decided to also invite Sim Yong Chan and Conrad Raj. To my surprise, Francis was very keen to come along.
All five of us went, had drinks, reminisced about the old days and sang old, bawdy university songs that we loved and shared. Francis was in top form in everything we did but he got tired and had to leave a bit earlier. We stood up and he hugged me and said, “Thanks for the lovely night. I will never forget this night.” With a heavy heart, knowing how sick my dear friend was, I said, “Francis, it doesn’t have to be the last night. We can always make it happen and create more memories.” With deep sadness in his eyes, he said, “I know.”
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