Do not point directly at the moon or your ear will be cut or scarred

Published on

in

[Scene: East Coast Park, Singapore. The two friends are sitting on a bench eating ice cream. The moon is bright over the sea.]

Arjun: Wah, look at the moon tonight! So clear, right? Like National Day spotlight.

Wei Ming: Eh! Don’t point at it! Later your ear get cut, then you know.

Arjun: (laughs) Bro, relax. I’m just pointing, not challenging it to a fight.

Wei Ming: I’m serious. My grandma always said, “Don’t point at the moon. The moon goddess will slice your ear.” Last time my cousin pointed, next day got small cut behind his ear.

Arjun: Behind his ear? That’s probably a mosquito bite he scratched too hard.

Wei Ming: You don’t know. These things very real one. My whole family believes it.

Arjun: Okay, but think logically. The moon is about 384,000 kilometers away. How it going to aim specifically at your ear?

Wei Ming: It’s not about distance. It’s about respect. You point at sacred things, you invite bad luck.

Arjun: I get the “respect” part. That makes sense culturally. But physically cutting your ear? There’s no mechanism. No lasers from the moon, no invisible knives.

Wei Ming: You always want scientific explanation. Some things cannot measure with ruler and calculator.

Arjun: True, not everything is measurable. But if it’s a physical injury, there must be a physical cause. Skin doesn’t just slice itself because you extended your index finger.

Wei Ming: Then how you explain my cousin’s ear?

Arjun: Correlation, not causation. If I eat prata and then it rains, doesn’t mean prata causes rain.

Wei Ming: Eh, don’t insult prata.

Arjun: (laughs) Sorry, sorry. My point is—kids get tiny scratches all the time. Fingernails, sharp pillow zippers, even dry skin cracking.

Wei Ming: But why so many elders say the same thing?

Arjun: Probably to stop children from pointing. In some cultures, pointing is rude. Especially at the sky, temples, or important symbols. So they attach a scary consequence. Instant behavior control.

Wei Ming: So you’re saying my grandma invented horror story parenting?

Arjun: Not invented. Passed down. It’s like “Don’t sweep at night or you sweep away your wealth.” It teaches caution, not physics.

Wei Ming: But the moon feels special what. Mid-Autumn Festival, lanterns, mooncakes… It’s not just a rock.

Arjun: Emotionally, yes. Culturally, yes. But scientifically, it is a rock reflecting sunlight. Beautiful rock, though.

Wei Ming: You very heartless leh.

Arjun: I still appreciate it! I just don’t think it’s holding a tiny parang waiting for your ear.

Wei Ming: (laughs despite himself) Okay that image quite funny.

Arjun: Tell you what. I’ll point at the moon now. If tomorrow my ear is fine, you owe me kopi.

Wei Ming: And if your ear got cut?

Arjun: Then I’ll admit the moon has excellent aim.

Wei Ming: Don’t play play. Later really happen.

Arjun: Look—(points dramatically)—HELLO MOON.

Wei Ming: Wah lao eh! Don’t drag me into this.

Arjun: Relax. If anything happens, we’ll check CCTV footage. Scientific method.

Wei Ming: You really trust science that much ah?

Arjun: Not blindly. But science tests ideas. If pointing causes ear cuts, hospitals in Singapore would see a spike every Mid-Autumn Festival.

Wei Ming: That’s true… KK Hospital would be full of ear cases.

Arjun: Exactly. But we don’t see that pattern.

Wei Ming: Still… I won’t point. Just in case.

Arjun: That’s fine. You don’t have to. Beliefs are personal. I just don’t want you living in fear of random celestial body.

Wei Ming: I’m not scared okay. Just… respectful.

Arjun: Fair enough. Respect is good. Fear without evidence? Maybe not necessary.

Wei Ming: You know what? Maybe it’s less about ears and more about humility. Like, don’t point fingers at things bigger than you.

Arjun: Now that’s a philosophical upgrade. I can support that.

Wei Ming: So we agree? You use science, I use tradition. Both can admire the moon.

Arjun: Deal. But if my ear is perfectly fine tomorrow, kopi on you.

Wei Ming: If your ear fine, I buy kopi. If got cut, I bring you to my grandma for apology ceremony.

Arjun: That one I’m actually more afraid of.

Wei Ming: See? Finally you admit fear.

Arjun: Not of the moon. Of your grandma.

Wei Ming: Fair enough.

[They both laugh, sitting quietly as the moon reflects on the water—pointed at or not, unchanged.]

Tell Us What You Think