Today is "Why? Day"...

Today  is “Why? Day”. Never heard of it?

Never mind, you have xx hours left to go with the flow of your suppressed curiosity (if you are reading this at 11.59pm, make it "Tomorrow is 'Why? Day'...).

Yes, some people are born curious, others become curious, yet others have curiosity thrust upon them.

So, today, let the child in you ask “Why?” “Why not?” “How come?” “What if?” “But, but…” And let the child or kids in the family have their day, ergo, no question, no matter how wacky it seems to you, is to be dismissed out of hand today.

I’ll like to believe that I have always been curious, and that I have had some role in my children’s curiosity.

Eons ago, when I was a six-year-old, my dad finally got me a mechanical wristwatch (those were the pre-digital days). Of course he conveniently failed to say where he bought it from and what it cost. But it impressed me: shockproof, waterproof, 17 jewels, automatic, it proudly declared on its faceplate.

Yes, I was curious – to see if it could be shocked. A loud “boo!” didn’t do the trick, so the good old very scientific drop test was initiated. That did the trick. Let’s just say that after my experiment I still had a very accurate timepiece: it was very, very accurate twice a day.

Many, many years later, my own six-year-old daughter proved she had acquired my “curiosity” genes. We lived on the fifth storey of a five-storey walkup apartment block then, with a balcony where she would spend her morning playtime. I bought her a battery-operated flying saucer toy, flashing lights and all.

Yes, she tested it. She reported very scientifically that it did not fly when, ahem, the drop test from the balcony was initiated. The good news for me is that she is still curious, and is now a medical scientist-clinician.

My other daughter is just as curious, in a more philosophical way. When she was just three years old, the family took a holiday to the United States. At breakfast in San Francisco, we were served bao. But the bao had a hole on top, presumably to let steam out.

She took a look at the bao in front of her and bawled, “Who bit my bao?” (She could talk very well at that age.)

It was quite a scene as she was inconsolable. Someone chipped in, “Look, everyone’s bao has a hole in it.”

I’ll like to think it was her philosophical curiosity (from the particular to the general reasoning at work) that made her riposte: “Who bit everybody’s bao!”

I think she’ll be all right on her curiosity quotient (CQ), and has taken an interest in philosophical discourse (read: she can out-argue anyone on any subject under the sun).

So, take the family out the rest of today, and together ask ‘Why?” and so on. Look at road signs. Ponder over why a particular sign says “Raised zebra crossing” yet has a drawing of a man crossing a street.

Recall those good old days when you studied, loved or hated science – my Chemistry teacher was nicknamed “Molecule shaker” – and whether you had an education (cramming in useless formulae) or learned useful stuff like “Which organ expands up to 10 times when excited?”

I am still curious and wonder why we still say “The sun rises in the east and sets in the west”.

By the way, it’s not what you think, you dirty-minded you. It’s the pupil of the eye.

Postscript: This article first appeared in the Science Page of the Straits Times. It has been amended and  updated here.