It was a humid evening in Singapore, the kind where even the breeze felt like warm soup. Arjun and Wei Ming were walking back from a late dinner, cutting through a quiet HDB estate. The faint smell of incense lingered in the air.
Wei Ming suddenly slowed down. “Eh, careful,” he said, lightly pulling Arjun’s arm.
Arjun looked down. A small pile of ash, half-burnt joss sticks, and some scattered paper offerings lay near the curb.
“Oh,” Arjun said casually, stepping over it. “Festival stuff, right?”
Wei Ming frowned. “Don’t step on it, lah. Spirits will be offended.”
Arjun paused mid-step and looked back at him. “You actually believe that?”
Wei Ming gave him a look. “Not just believe. It’s basic respect. These offerings are for the dead. You step on them, it’s like insulting someone’s ancestor.”
Arjun shrugged. “I get the respect part. But ‘spirits being offended’? That’s a bit… dramatic, no?”
Wei Ming crossed his arms. “You say that, but last year my cousin accidentally kicked over some offerings during Hungry Ghost Month. That whole week, he kept having bad luck—missed his bus, dropped his phone, even got food poisoning.”
Arjun raised an eyebrow. “That just sounds like a bad week, not a ghost revenge arc.”
Wei Ming chuckled despite himself. “You always like this. Everything must have ‘scientific explanation,’ right?”
“Not everything,” Arjun said. “But most things. Take your cousin—confirmation bias. He remembers the bad things after stepping on the offerings, but ignores all the times nothing happened.”
Wei Ming shook his head. “Or maybe you’re just ignoring that there are things science cannot explain.”
They resumed walking, this time carefully skirting another patch of burnt paper.
Arjun gestured at it. “See, I avoid stepping on it too—but not because I think ghosts are watching. It’s about being culturally sensitive. People believe in it, so I respect that.”
Wei Ming nodded slowly. “Okay, that part I agree. But intention matters. If you step on it carelessly, it’s disrespectful.”
“Sure,” Arjun said. “But that’s social respect, not supernatural punishment.”
Wei Ming smirked. “Easy for you to say. You didn’t grow up with all these stories. My grandma used to tell me—if you disturb offerings, spirits might follow you home.”
Arjun laughed. “Did any ever follow you?”
Wei Ming hesitated. “Not… exactly. But sometimes, during Hungry Ghost Month, the atmosphere feels different. Like… heavier.”
“That’s psychology,” Arjun said gently. “You’re primed to feel that way because of what you were told as a kid. It’s like watching a horror movie—you know it’s fake, but your body still reacts.”
Wei Ming considered that. “Hmm. Maybe. But even if it’s psychological, isn’t it safer to just avoid stepping on them?”
Arjun grinned. “Ah, the classic ‘just in case’ argument.”
“Exactly!” Wei Ming pointed at him. “Zero risk. Why take chances?”
Arjun laughed. “By that logic, I should also avoid black cats, broken mirrors, and walking under ladders.”
Wei Ming shrugged. “No harm, what.”
Arjun stopped and looked at him. “You know what’s interesting? These beliefs actually serve a purpose. They make people careful and respectful in shared spaces. But over time, the reason gets replaced with fear.”
Wei Ming tilted his head. “So you’re saying it started as respect, then became superstition?”
“Exactly,” Arjun said. “Think about it—these offerings are meaningful to someone. The ‘spirit punishment’ idea is just a strong way to enforce that respect.”
Wei Ming smiled slightly. “You make it sound like a social engineering system.”
“In a way, it is,” Arjun said. “Ancient behavioral design.”
Wei Ming laughed. “Wah, now even ghosts become ‘behavioral design’.”
They reached the void deck, where a few more incense sticks flickered in the distance.
Wei Ming glanced at them and instinctively walked around. Arjun followed without comment.
After a moment, Wei Ming said, “You know, even if I accept your explanation… I think I’ll still believe a bit.”
Arjun nodded. “That’s fair. Beliefs aren’t just logic—they’re culture, upbringing, emotion.”
Wei Ming smiled. “And fear.”
“And fear,” Arjun agreed, grinning.
Wei Ming nudged him. “Next time you step on one and suddenly your Grab gets cancelled three times, don’t come crying to me.”
Arjun laughed. “If that happens, I’ll write a paper—‘Correlation Between Joss Stick Disturbance and Ride-Hailing Failure.’”
Wei Ming burst out laughing. “Confirm cannot publish one.”
They both chuckled as they headed upstairs, the faint scent of incense still trailing behind them—one carrying belief, the other curiosity, and both sharing a quiet, mutual respect.
Science Vs Superstition 
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