Reminisce. Discover. Collect.

It was a quiet afternoon when I found again the banknotes Grandpa left behind—all seven pieces of them, buried in the folds of time, tucked safely into the corners of an old cabinet. For years, they waited silently—remnants of the old currency series—waiting for hands to touch them again, for eyes to rediscover their stories. As I held them, I felt as though I was holding fragments of Grandpa’s world—pieces of a bygone era, pressed between paper and ink, carrying the weight of his memories. 

A thought stirred within me: why not complete these collections, gather every missing note, and weave them into an album—something to honour the past, and as a tribute to Grandpa? So, I began searching. Each note I found felt like a chapter waiting to be told, an heirloom crafted not just to buy or sell, but to speak of Singapore’s journey. With every new discovery, I realised these banknotes were more than currency—they were time travellers, witnesses to our nation’s growth, capturing moments both humble and grand.

I soon wondered—how often do we stop to truly look at the notes that pass through our hands? Beyond their monetary value, what do they say? What stories do the etchings and flourishes tell, who were the hands that signed them, and what hopes did they carry? And yet, we let these notes slip through our fingers without a second glance, always looking to earn more of them, but seeing so little in them. 

When I shared these notes with friends and family, their eyes lingered on the older ones and the higher denominations, but soon, they drifted on. They flipped through the pages of my collection as if paging through an old book whose meaning had been long forgotten. I saw in their fleeting glances how easy it is to miss the stories held within the things we see every day.