A voice was heard in Ramah.

This cat is HDB approved.

Wednesday, March 04, 2009

9:43 PM

If you thought this was going to be some story of optimism, courage and unwavering determination, well let me tell you how misplaced your hopes are. This isn't some story of a princess who complained of a pain in her back because of some decomposing green vegetable beneath her pile of mattresses. Neither is this some tale of a damsel of distress in dire need of an overdue haircut, at split ends (pun intended) waiting for her charming prince to rescue her. If you want that, have a Word with the Brothers Grimm ( I always wondered why the need for such sombre names when their tales are anything but) or a pun of a time with Dr Seuss and his ill-coloured eggs and ham.
This is a story of a single mom who struggles to make ends meet. How she slogs her hours away, perhaps at some dimly lit shabby excuse of a garment factory on a malfunctioning sewing machine - to earn that pittance that will feed the gnawing stomachs of her sons and daughters. Yes, she is still young. No, she's far from pretty. In fact her eyes are probably squinting from the darkness of the workarea ("cost effective measures" but she speaks no English) and her hands perhaps callused from countless acupunctures of a misplaced stitch.
It's also a story of a high powered guy in a corporate job, who has everything and yet nothing. Decent pay, great career advancements and travel opportunities. He's the one with ambition, the one that other firms Keep An Eye On becaues he's the tough that gets going when the going gets tough. He likes to work out at the gym on alternate weekdays except Fridays, walk his dogs at Central Park during the weekends. Great cook as well. Only problem is, he's lacking a girlfriend. Why? You may ask. Well, he's the perfect guy. But also the perfect commitment phobe. The type who wouldn't want to start anything because the M word startles him like a deer in front of headlights.
Or it could be the simple story of being overtaken at the Express counter at a supermarket queue. You are well aware of the fact for example, the over excitable Aunty (that's right, with a capital A) in her mismatched Crocs and arms heaving with groceries has 13 and not 10 items. In fact you could bet your last dollar on that, because you actually counted them while she deliberately cut you. You want to scream, shout, throw a tantrum like a baby in the middle of a church sermon. While you are at it, you also want to hit her with a watermelon off the Fresh Fruits section (China ones are better, for their genetically modified size are an advantage). Only that you don't. You let her pass you. And you pretend as though nothing has happened when you walk out to your car.
What do all these stories have in common, you ask?
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
No happy ending? You seem disappointed.
You see? I just thought I told you it wasn't a story of courage, optimism and unwavering determination.
Then what story is it, you persist.

It's life, my friend.

What's that, come again? I couldn't quite catch you.

Of course not, you are caught right in it.