Tourists who visit Singapore concentrate on the funfair island of Resorts World Sentosa or head to the futuristic Marina Bay Sands Hotel and Casino, a snaky curve perched on tall towers surrounded by giant, glowing umbrella trees.
Tourists might move a bit further inland to Orchard Road, the gleaming designer shopping district where some of the most expensive labels in the world have quietly imposing storefronts. On Orchard Road, shoppers can buy Birkin bags, Christian Louboutin heels and Kate Spade dresses or queue for hours to get a slice of cream-filled crepe-cake from the boutique confectioner Lady M of New York.
These tourists accustomed to the manicured areas of Singapore would be shocked to discover Bishan, five stops away from Orchard Road on the red MRT train line.
Bishan is part of Singapore’s “heartlands”, the suburbs where most Singaporeans live, eat, play and shop. Smack in the centre of the island nation, Bishan is a 3-D jigsaw puzzle of cream-to-orange blocks built by the government’s Housing Development Board, surrounded by steaming green jungle and the glistening waters of the MacRitchie Reservoir.
The heart of Bishan is Bishan Town Central, a transport interchange where buses and MRT trains from every outlying suburb of Singapore converge. From 5 am to midnight every day, Bishan Town Central vibrates with energy. Trains thunder in dark tunnels below ground, while above ground, packed buses rumble into a cement-and-brick bus interchange. Thousands of men, women and children hop in and out of trains and buses, rushing to and from work or school or home. At least half of Singapore passes through Bishan on weekdays.
Students carrying laptops and bulging backpacks alight at the bus interchange and cross the road to Bishan Public Library, a favourite spot for doing homework or chilling with friends.
Women with coloured scarves wrapped around their heads race others in kurtas or Mandarin collars heading to FairPrice Supermarket for the freshest vegetables.
Runners in tiny shorts and sleeveless tops avoid cyclists or dog-walkers on their way to or from the MacRitchie Reservoir. Some stop for a bite at one of the many open-air food courts serving hot noodles, soup, rice, vegetable dishes or meat. Others seek space at the air-conditioned cafes or fast-food joints at Junction 8 Mall.
A minute’s walk away from the bus interchange comes a quieter area known as Bishan Square. This is a one square kilometre space bounded by the NTUC FairPrice Supermarket, the Bishan branch of the Post Office Savings Bank and the Bishan branch of the Central Provident Fund building. Two food courts and fourteen beauty parlours operate in this area – although Gurpreet Kaur can remember a time when it was just her Monty Beauty Spa. That was just before the Bishan boom of the 1990s.
A century ago, Bishan was a cemetery, avoided for fear of ghosts and the drug-crazed gangsters who used it as a hideout. Then in the 1960s, the authorities stepped in, exhuming the graves, building HDB blocks to house a growing population, and expanding the old Pek San temple school into a prestigious academy for primary and secondary students.
Lured by a new sports complex, cheap flats, and convenient transportation, more and more Singaporeans moved into Bishan. Among them were Gurpreet Kaur and her husband Kunwaljeet Singh. Soon after moving in, Gurpreet also moved her home parlour business out of their five-room HDB flat and into a shop on the ground floor of a neighbouring building. Twenty years later, Monty Beauty Spa was still there, still catering to old clients and new walk-in customers needing a quick touch-up on their way to work, or after-work engagements.
The average Singaporean will wear shorts and a sleeveless top to beat the heat on off days but during the work week, even stock-girls at the NTUC FairPrice Supermarket indulge in splash-proof make-up, perfectly drawn eyebrows and bright red lips.
Monty Beauty Spa was pleasantly busy on most days but on the day of Tushar Kapoor’s wedding, Gurpreet had back-to-back appointments from 8 am to 8 pm.
The Chopras left at 9.45 am. In the fifteen minutes before her next customers, the Sinhas, arrived, Gurpreet Kaur ran to the toilet in the coffee shop next door, praying her bladder would hold out.
On her way back, she glared at the new shop space opposite hers. It was at least three times as big as the humble Monty Beauty Spa. Its clear glass-front showed off a gleaming, carpeted interior with cushioned recliners, far more expensive than the patched yet comfortable salon chairs Gurpreet Kaur had acquired two decades ago.
With the advent of this new player, there were now fourteen beauty salons in Bishan Square. Most of the beauty parlours in the area were like Monty Beauty Spa: simple and simply named. They were no-nonsense, affordable salons where women could order anything from a face bleach to a bikini wax without feeling intimidated.
Not this new player. Sensuously curved letters spelt D’Asthetique above the door frame. Below in smaller letters, the tagline: “Beauty Is Skin Deep”.
Gurpreet’s chest swelled, reading it. The tagline for Monty Beauty Spa was “Beauty From Within”. Below that, another line on Gurpreet’s door read: “Fourth Wax Free,” followed by a price list of the services she offered.
There was no price list tacked to the door of D’Asthetique. Professional-looking leather folders waited for customers inside.
Anyone passing D’Asthetique could see the folders through the glass-front. Gurpreet had peeked inside one at the invitation of the owner, April Chua Mei Jun. Before opening last week, April had asked Gurpreet and the other owners of neighbouring beauty parlours to come for ‘tea’.
The “tea” had been slimming lemongrass extract served in disposable cups along with low-calorie, spicy rice crackers. “Very spicy, so can burn more calories when you digest,” April had said, perched on the arm of one of the white, fake-leather sofas in the waiting area.
Gurpreet and the other guests had placed their cups nervously on the glass-topped table atop a furry carpet.
“Very nice,” she had offered.
Excerpted with permission from Beauty Queens of Bishan, Akshita Nanda, Penguin Random House.
Limited-time offer: Big stories, small price. Keep independent media alive. Become a Scroll member today!
Our journalism is for everyone. But you can get special privileges by buying an annual Scroll Membership. Sign up today!