Positive

After a few unpleasant events, something positive arrived.
Recent economic conditions give rise to numerous individuals engaging in the outdoor sales industry. They stand on the streets from morning till night looking for potential clients. Their job is to offer, persuade, tout every passer-by to sign up a membership, apply for a credit card or buy a product.

He approached me with a smile. “good morning sir, I am from HSBC….”
Before he could continue, I cut in “I’m sorry, I am unemployed so I am not eligible for any of your banking services.”
“oh..” he looked disappointed but more apologetic. In a spilt second, he responded “Are you looking for a job? Our company is having a road show next week. If you like to leave me your telephone number, they could contact you.”

It came so unexpectedly, that someone could demonstrate such kindness to a stranger. It is really nice to know that some people do share solidarity with others. I regain my hope. The sky suddenly does not look so grey anymore.

One day in MRT

An old frail man entered the crowded train. Like every other day, every commuter was either staring at the air or was closing their eyes, indulging themselves in their own world. The door shut, the train moved. Yet no one offered him a seat. I approached the lady who was sitting on the priority seat assigned for the disabled and needy.

“Can you give up your seat to the man over there?”. Without a word, she stood up and walked away.
“Uncle, please sit down.” I asked the man.
“No need.” He replied coldly.
“Don’t worry, this seat is offered to you.” I repeated.
“I said NO NEED.” He shouted fiercely.

Immediately I turned the other side, wondering what wrong have I done. By then, everyone in the compartment was staring at me.
One thing came into my mind: “Nicholas, next time, mind your own damn business.”

Tattoo

Tattoo is one of the popular symbolic “must haves” among the youth culture in this decade, alongside with multi ear piercing and hand phones. Apart from my age, which is not very cool to get myself a tattoo, the urge never quite caught on me, even in my younger days.

Ancient tribes put tattoo onto their body to signify the reaching of adulthood. Tattoo made them look ferocious in order to scare off enemies and animals. It distinguishes class and hierarchy among groups or differentiate between each tribes.

Of course, these motives bears little weight today. Modern people tattoo their body because they like the design, desire to be more recognizable and hoping to bring out one’s uniqueness. Or it is simply seems cool to possess one.

I do not need that. There are enough imprint on my body to make me easily recognizable should my mother needs to identify me in the morgue. Not many people have birth mark as big as the world map on their abdomen. (I do!) Stubborn scars from intense pimple squeezing allow me to convey such chill that keeps even the insurance salesmen away.

It is not suitable for my fickle mind too. I grows out novelties easily. Erasing tattoos is not always feasible especially if they are of yellow or green in colour. These colours respond badly to laser treatment. Once I saw an Egypt man with the characters “Allah China” tattooed boldly on his arm. Curiously I asked him about the inspiration of his design.
“I am a Muslim, it’s my god, Allah. I want it in Chinese, It’s special right?” He replied proudly with enthusiasm.
“But what Allah has got to do with China?” I insisted, before my retarded brain eventually saw the light. He actually wanted the word ‘Allah’ translated and written in Chinese, not the word"Allah China". His mouth dropped after being told of the miscommunication between he and his tattoo artist. Looking at his delusion gradually transformed into agitation, I realised that I should have kept my big mouth shut.

One word of advice, never inscribe one’s name on the body. It’s what a prisoner in the Nazi camp got. If one feels proud of his name and wishes other to know it, then wear a name tag everyday. At least you can change its colour whenever you like.

Thank you

I am dying to know why you refused to help me.

Amid two days of conversation and beating around the bushes, you gave no answer. “What have you done for me?” was your reply. In this critical time, you need to weigh the scales before taking any step? I did not ask you for the moon. I merely ask for your physical presence. There is no necessity for any exertion of strength or fatigue on your part. I did not realize until now, that it is such a dread to be by my side.

I see the dynamics now. You need to receive before you give. Very well. So what has Exxx done for you to justify your help? Likewise, Bxxx must have done you a lot of favor since you always ready to lend a hand.

All these are not important now. Thanks to you, I’ve learned an important lesson: One needs to be independent even emotionally because nobody is reliable except oneself. It is good to be broken because next time, the pain will not hurt as much. I’ve crumpled but I will stand up again. I will be a little bit stronger, a little bit tougher and a little bit wiser.

You once asked me why was I so cold and impassive at times. That is because, thanks to people like you, who made me the way I am. So all in all, thank you.

Our best time together

This could be our best time together. I want it to be our best no matter how short the duration will be.

Mum is eating less and speak even lesser. With both eyes closed, she secludes herself on bed most of the time. She does not want to sit nor is interested to watch her favourite tv program. What I fear most seems to be approaching. Maybe she knows it too.

The past 2 months has been devastating. I was insane, depressed and unprepared for what was happening. My one and only emotional support has refused to show up. Apart from grieving, there was nothing I could do.

But all these has to end. Firstly I want to make use of the limited time to tell mum how much I loved her. The word “love” always sounded so squeamish to me. Hence I had never told her enough. It would be nice to hear her telling me that too even though it is not necessary because her selfless love for me is overwhelming and omnipresent.

I want to ask for her forgiveness for not being successful in my life so that she can be proud of. I am sorry for things that I said that sadden her. I want to assure her that I will be able to take care of myself and be strong enough not to let anyone hurt me. I will protect myself just like she would protect me.
So dear mum,
I will execute my ulterior patience to speak to you nicely. We can look at the photos that we have taken during our vacations. We will count the papayas on the tree and the wild cats in the neighbourhood while I push your wheelchair. You would smile when we do exercises. We can still do so much together.

Everything has its time

If you are:

not good looking in your 20s,
not healthy in your 30s,
not successful in your 40s
not rich in your 50s
not wise in your 60s.......

Then you will never be good looking or healthy or successful or rich or wise in your entire life.

Oh no, not again!

I was always told that Happiness is short. But I did not expect it to last for merely 2 days.

Friday : After almost one year after her biopopy operation, mum finally gets stronger. Her kidney function gradually stabilised. Walking without any support to the supermarket was our highest achievement since last year. From her bed ridden days to independent walking, the road towards recovery has been lengthy and laborious. I lauded mum for her resilience. It was her fighting spirit that pulled her through. “Finally, she has made it” I said, while leaving the past anguish behind. Rarely did I recall myself feeling so satisfied and contented. It was a memorable day.

2 days later: For no apparent reason, mum could not get herself up from bed. Just like that. No accident, no illness, no explanation. When we tried to transfer her, she cried out of excruciating pain. Urine started to retain in her body and her bladder was bloated. After waiting for 3 hours in the emergency department, the doctor announced that mum’s femur was fractured again. This time it is her left side. Why? Mum did not have a fall. Or did she? Her bones must be so weak that any slight bumps will fracture her. So the ordeal of the risky surgery, the rehabilitation pains, the risk of catching infection repeats again. For sure this time, I will not survive if the ordeal persists over 3 months like previously.

The waiting game

A game has started. You set the rules and I am the only player. It is called “The waiting game”. There is no deadline and no finishing point. There is no indication of the duration because it is stressful for you to decide. Your rationale is of no concern to me because it does not change my situation. I just have to wait. Just like a dog.

Isn’t it the same game as last year? I thought I have played it so well. But practise doesn’t make perfect. My time clock is ticking with each passing day. This game is not suitable for me anymore so I surrender now. I may have lost the game but you did not win too.

Fool me once, shame on you.
Fool me twice, shame on me.

They came here to boo

The crowd comprised of reporters, camera men, ordinary folks, fans blocking the street like a packed sardine can. These thousand people been waiting right from the early morning. She finally arrived in a car. The hell just broke loose. When she stepped out, supporters cried out words of encouragement, photographers snapping their shutters. Among the chaos, some people in the crowd started to boo.

She is an actress/singer/performer/celebrity in Hong Kong. Not a top superstar, not yet and most probably will never be one. This is her first public appearance after a long period in exile. Public opinion had shamed her into hiding.

What crime did she commit?
She merely made love /have sex with her partner. An act that everyone of us do. Our parents do it, (otherwise we will not be born) We do it. Our children do it. Our pets do it too. How sinful is that?

The only difference is that her activity was filmed and leaked into the internet circuit by a computer service man. Not out of her personal choice. Should I say she is a victim? How much responsibility she has to take?

Like it or not, the filming with our digital cameras and mobile phones has become part of our daily life. Recording a traffic incident, a street dispute, my first bungee jump etc, just to name a few. A simple check in U-tube will result in millions of home made sexual acts. What are those stupefaction about? And why can’t she do it?
From the booing to sending of threatening mails, some people really do not realise that they are the one who should be incriminated for invading other’s privacy. It is okay when they themselves have sex. When other do it, they pass judgement. Our society is so full of hypocrites.

hello sanity!

We Singaporeans have a strong penchant for queuing; standing orderly in line behind one another, quietly and patiently waiting for our turn. It is not the mundane file to board a bus or to pay at the supermarket’s cashier. I am referring to the hours and even overnight queues. There is always something worth the effort and time. No complains about it. It is in the blood.

Queuing is a civilised act, queuing is good. It is the reason for queuing that I find perplexing.

One famous event was the 24 hours queue that burst into a nasty fight. The queue was to procure a pair of Hello Kitty dolls from McDonalds. That bizarre incident ended after government intervention.
Then the businesslike group spending a cold night to purchase expensive apartments, the daily long line outside Ngee Soon’s toto collection centres because of its past records of winning stakes, the determined human chain outside the latest donut outlet or noodle stall etc.

The latest being the 4800-people turn up at a job fair at Jelutong Community Centre yesterday. Queuing up for a job was previously unheard of in a country where employers have to crack heads to invent incentives so to prevent their workers from resigning.
At least this time, it is for the reason. Welcome, sanity!

One unhappy person is better than 3

You have accepted an unhappy 15 years’ marriage as part of your life. Women love to think that they have the power to change a man…eventually. The fact is that ‘you cannot change the spots of a leopard’- the exact quote from you. Most people are impressed by your strength, your determination and your success in work. But I know you more than most people. Behind that restrained smile, you hide a heart so broken that it is beyond repair.

Then a recent perverse turn of events. All at once, every past suspicion emerges as holy truth, snapping every tenuous ligament of your nuptial vows. Yet you still utter to him “the house is always here waiting for your return.” Being a woman needs not accept all the absurdity her husband brings. Aren’t you capable of loving yourself? Don’t you recognize that you deserve happiness like everyone else?

“One unhappy person is better than 3.” Maybe you are right. It is no business of mine to voice any opinion without actually living your life. Nobody except you yourself can know what is more important for you. But should you need a listening ear, I will always be here.

The Best job in the World

An Australian state is offering internationally what it calls "the best job in the world" -- earning a top salary of 150,000 Australian dollars (105,000 US dollars) for 6 months of lazing around in a beautiful tropical island named Hamilton Island on the Great Barrier Reef.

In return, the "island caretaker" will be expected to stroll the white sands, snorkel the reef, take care of "a few minor tasks" -- and report to a global audience via weekly blogs, photo diaries and video updates.

The successful applicant, who will stay rent-free in a three-bedroom beach home complete with plunge pool and golf buggy, must be a good swimmer, excellent communicator and be able to speak and write English.


Okay, I am aware that it is an advertising gimmick created by the Australian Tourist Promotion Board and hence I should not take it so seriously. On the other hand, hard campaigning it could also deliver an idea that is miseducating to the younger generation; promoting the concept of bagging a ridiculously huge sum of remuneration and shunning the idea of working. They are trying to brain wash us that a vacation-like passing time is the epitome a good life. “Vacation is good. Working is bad” so the slogan seems to imply. If you really have to work, you better be paid supremely well and the job has better to be task free.


Tv shows like “wheel of fortune“, “how to be a millionaire” are already changing people’s idea of an honest income. Money can actually comes by through easy means. If it is possible to get rich by “walking on stage” or participating in quiz games, who cares about having to get out of bed early and spend 8 hours away from home? Soon, people take up a job just to keep life going while day dreaming that the lucky moment will arrive. Nobody bothers about getting knowledge or improving oneself?

Why people demand huge sum of money for their work? Mainly because they are unhappy with what they are doing. In order to “make” them perform a task or any task, they must be well compensated.

Confucius once said “Choose a job that you like, and you need not work another day.” My father never rested a day in his 60 years of working life, not even when he was ill. And he was paid a pittance. Nobody coerced him to do that. I did not understand him then for I was too full of the wonder of his own going. Certainly there were moments of stress, anger and struggle but there were also moments of socializing, moments of pride (when he knows he did well), moments of enjoyment. To him, that’s not work. That’s life.

Recorded telephone message

Hi, I am probably home. I just want to avoid someone I dislike. Leave me a message. If I don’t call back, you know it’s you.


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Foreign Force

Recently there is a domination of protests and laments concerning the increasing of foreigners workers in Singapore. With inflation at all time high, unemployment rate rising, it is not surprising that people are beginning to point their fingers.

I support whole heartedly the idea of having more foreign workers as well as professionals in Singapore.

Firstly they fill up most of the post in the labour intensive sector. I really do not know what to do without Sutiyah, our dedicated domestic worker, who take care of my mother. An average Singaporean is considerable educated but hasn’t a clue what social etiquette is all about. They eat like pigs on tables. Hence the need for more workers to clean up the mess for them. Thanks to them, who take up the jobs that most Singaporeans find repulsive, dirty or, too tough. They do not constitute any threat in the job market because these are jobs that the pampered Singaporeans do not want to do anyway.

Most of us are complacent of being who we are and proud of where we live. We travelled physically to many countries but literally have not been to anywhere. When we visit other countries, our curiosity is only focused on shopping, eating and photo-taking. Our minds are shut from understanding and absorbing new spirits. We return home as the same person as we departed. So it is about time to have some outsiders here to show us another perspective in seeing things or to solve problems. I am not implying this only in work but also on our social behaviour.

Inside the public trains, most passengers turn a blind eye towards the elderly by looking away or pretend to be sleeping. Those who give up their seats to the needy are mainly the Indian and Bangladesh workers, who obviously know a thing or two about respectful and kindness.

Many take pride in identifying themselves as being bilingual. Little do they notice that the janitor from China pronounces better Mandarin and express herself clearer than a freshly school leaver. The Filipinos bartender speaks more correct English than us. We speak the type of English only we Singaporeans could understand. You don’t agree with me? Well, then try to figure out the meaning of the following phrases that I overheard recently :

Here cannot walk.
Alamak! Why you like that oneeeeeeee?!
See where? (answers are given below)

Answers
It is prohibited to walk here.
Oh, why do behave this way?
Where do we meet?

You have correctly guessed the answers, haven’t you? Well, that’s because you are a Singaporean. As I mentioned earlier, only Singaporeans can understand our special English. Aren’t we great?

I could give more examples but further ranting would be considered as “stirring up the shit for nothing.” It is advisable to remain silent and agree with everyone. Conformation is the keyword for survival here.