By Ho Lian-Yi

SUSAN Boyle looked like the eccentric aunt no one ever visits, a spinster version of William Hung.

No one gave her a chance, as she stood with her unkempt hair and boring tan dress in the bright lights of reality TV, where so many dreams have wilted.

Just another hopeful to have her dignity sacrificed publicly for our enjoyment.

Her song - I Dream A Dream from Les Miserables. 'Big song,' says Simon Cowell, one of the judges, and chuckles. Then she sings.

It is hard to explain what happens next, except to call it magic. Her voice soars, the audience surge to their feet. Even TV's ultimate curmudgeon Cowell breaks into a corny grin.

On YouTube and other websites, the video of her performance has had more than 100 million hits since 11 Apr, and it's still going up quickly. Generated hundreds of press reports. The Internet is abuzz with her name.

What is it about this performance that made it such a tremendous hit? To have left so many viewers in tears?

I am just as superficial as anyone. Maybe worse. 'Like everyone else I had her judged before she even spoke,' to quote a random Internet user.

But I got goosebumps all over. I still do, each time I play the video, and I've played it many times.

For a microsecond after she sings, mixed with the surprise, we - admit it! - experience a moment of shame.

Deep down, we realise we're prejudicial little so-and-sos, and in that way, she's better than us.

So what if she is ugly, pudgy, eccentric?

Does that mean that people like that can't sing?

We have become so used to the prepackaged, glossy pop starlet, that in the presence of raw talent in all its humanity, our only reaction is awe.

It is a necessary reminder. We are not what we look, where we live, even what we do.

Susan Boyle looked after her mother till she died in 2007. She was probably not well off - she lived all her life in the same four-room flat.

As a girl, other children (the cruellest people of all) mocked her learning disabilities and her fuzzy hair. It is easy to imagine all the people who must have thought her a little mad, or tried to discourage her from her dream. Don't be silly, they might have said. But she never gave up.

And in one stunning night, she rose above all the childhood jibes, the mockery, and all the travails of fate. Now she has the last laugh.

And we who have shelved our dreams to an indefinite tomorrow, can only applaud.

This article was first published in The New Paper.