Going home after mahgrib is such a tiring chore. I left school at 730pm and I reached home at nine. And that includes running for the bus with a bag filled with books. With hands holding a laptop. And today I bought 2 more books, Sophocles and Sigmund Freud. And man. There was a jam up at upper bukit timah road. And the bus air-con was heaving warm air. As if the situation was not bad enough, the bus was moving at a snail’s pace. Yeah. I have become so good at complaining. *of course. This is not something to be proud of.*

Anyway, yeah. I just want to say something that really struck me. On Sunday, I was on my way to causeway point… to fetch Milton’s Paradise Lost from the photocopy shop. Yup. I did photocopy a chapter. Anyhow..yeah. and I was reading my geog notes at the bus stop ah, because I knew that I did not really have much time to prepare for my tutorial tomr. Then suddenly there was this makcik talking to another malay lady. They were talking about marital problems, the malay lady was divorced and had remarried again (persuaded by her children to do so), while the makcik is currently living alone, or rather, staying with her ‘ibu angkat’ at a rental flat. My heartstrings were already tugged.

And that was not all.

When we boarded the bus, the makcik chose to sit at the empty seat beside me. I was surprised because she actually asked me for permission to sit. Man. And so she asked what I am doing. If I was still studying or not…working or not…and all those things. Then I asked her where she was going. She said she needed to purchase some herbal drink from the Chinese medical shop at causeway point. Said she was sick. Her left chest was very painful. She tried to soothe the pain using some religious treatment, well, it is not the bomoh kind. More of, (she told me) by praying a lot, drinking water blessed with Surah Yaasin…Yakin or confident in God’s will to cure her. *me being practical* I asked her why not she go to the doctor…she replied…even going to the polyclinic needs money. Even though it is relatively cheaper than the private ones, you would need to prepare at least five dollars for it. $2 consultation…$3 medicine…and there may even be something more. She was carrying a plastic bag. And she showed me that her ‘ibu angkat’ was also not well-off and could only afford to give her basic food each day and 2 panadol tablets.

I was just thinking. There is here, a makcik in front of me, who is sickly, lonely, old and frail.

And there I was, wishing I have more money so that I could buy the nice top/dress/blouse at $15 at the pasar malam. But whatever it is, I wished I could have helped her…in more ways than just…praying for her. I’ve seen her before at my mps session… sigh. Why couldn’t there be equal wealth for everyone?

Anyway. Yeah. we are all getting busy. I need to hit my geog tutorial now. And it is 11.55pm of 22 jan. it is just five more minutes to his birthday…I remembered last year that I bought him a story book. A story book about dinosaurs. Why did I still hold on to these memories… tell me. why.

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