25th May, 2012.
I was particularly edgy when I woke up, and plainly put,
just downright annoyed that I had to get ready for my appointment. Sighing loudly
to myself as I made my way down to the kitchen, I remembered that lunch will
not magically appear no matter how many times I open the refrigerator door. I knew
that I was supposed to take my medication on a full stomach and yet, like a
defiant teenager, I popped two pills. Trudging my way back up to my room, I dialed
the number to Comfort and City cab. The weather was warm. I was hungry and
truthfully, feeling pretty sorry for myself.
“What the heck, I’ll just take a cab to the hospital. There’s
no way I’m going to take the train in this weather.” I thought.
I was scheduled for a MRI scan that afternoon, and I was to
go alone. My friends were busy and my mom didn’t offer. It was only a scan, yet
I was scared. But I was feeling alone more than anything else.
Upon reaching the clinic, I was told to wait for an hour
more as there were two more patients ahead of me. Fine, I’ll grab lunch then.
Took a slow walk out to the kopitiam at scrutinized the sad
selection the stalls had to offer. Finally settled for the Nasi Padang stall,
and ordered enough food to feed an elephant and I (not taking into
consideration that elephants are, well, vegetarians). It seemed that the makcik
at the stall kept getting my orders wrong no matter how I called out to her and
pointed at the food from behind the glass.
“Cik! Ciiiiiiiiiiiik!” Oh my goodness, last warning ah this
aunty. It was as though the glass was bulletproof or something. That was when a
large, old Indian lady in her 60s sidled up to me and said, “You must call
louder! She pekak (deaf) one!” Giggling, she repeated my order of sambal ayam
to the makcik and grinned at me. I returned her a smile and a seemingly
enthusiastic “Thank you!”
Just as I settled down at the nearest table, I was joined
shortly by none other than my dear friend from the Nasi Padang stall. With a
tray of food in one hand and three other bags in the other, she sat down
awkwardly opposite me before setting down her items. I didn’t think I was in
the mood, or up for any sort of conversation that day. After all, I was feeling
sorry for myself. But something caught my eye, and I just had to ask.
“Cik, you’re only eating ikan (fish) and nasi (rice)? No
sayur (vegetables)? Don’t like uh?”
“No lah, want to order sayur ah, expensive! Ikan enough lah,”
“Oh.” Comparing my plate of food to hers, it was akin to
having a salad while she was only having a single pea. I exaggerate, but you
get what I mean.
“Girl, don’t mind, can give me a bit of sayur?”
…I felt damn weird. No stranger has ever approached me to
share my food with them before, except beggars. Even then, my friends would
have chased them away.
Albeit feeling as such, I gave it anyway. No more than a
scoop (equivalent to a pathetic count of only five leaves) later, she told me
it was more than enough. I was skeptical. How will that ever be enough? She started
eating with each miserable piece of vegetable cut sparingly into tinier pieces
to go along with her spoonful of rice.
Just then, her phone rang. It was her son. Turns out, he
lost his house keys and wanted her to open the door for him. “But I’m eating
lah, later a bit can or not? Now? Ta pao (take away)? Cannot lah the food on
the plate already! Okay okay, I eat faster then I come home already. Yes I will
(be) faster,”
What an asshole.
She began shoveling food into her mouth even before she
ended the call with that cute son of hers. It was easy to tell that she was
struggling, as she couldn’t chew her food properly. I told her to slow down,
lest getting choked.
“Haiyo, cannot lah my son need me to open the door for him. He
always lost his keys then need me to open the door for him,”
I decided to chat her up, and she later told me that she had
been hungry since twelve pm (it was already four), but she had to tahan
(tolerate) because she will not have any dinner later. It was her only meal of
the day.
My eyes started feeling hot. For the first time that day, I felt
sorry for another individual other than myself.
Pointing to her plastic bag filled with medication, I asked if those
were hers. She thought I was pointing to the other bag of goreng pisang (banana
fritters) and said, “No lah, my mother like to eat goreng pisang, so I buy for
her to makan lor,”
She would rather forgo dishes from her plate just to buy
snacks for her mother. This was when I realized that she had finished her
vegetables, and gave her more.
“Eh, malu (embarrassing) lah girl! Don’t need to give aunty
so much! Just now that one cukup (enough) lah! You want to minum air (drink
water)? Aunty buy for you,”
“It’s okay lah aunty, I cannot finish my food lah, too much!
And I’m not thirsty, don’t worry,”
She was about done.
“Then now balik rumah (going home) ah aunty?”
“Ya laaaa, have to open the door for my son. Always like
that, not the first time already. Always ask him to keep his things properly
don’t want to listen.” I noticed her wincing a little as she was trying to get
up from her seat.
At this point, I was still waiting for the right moment to
say good bye. She seemed to be taking forever to stand up.
“Aunty, your leg sakit (pain)?”
“Ya, just finished operation on my left leg. So pain lah, a
bit,” Her sad excuse of a son was still hurrying her to get home.
She turned and waved goodbye with a smile. My heart broke. I
bid her goodbye and turned back to my plate, immensely disgusted with myself. None
of the negative feelings I felt before were there anymore. Had I not gone for
lunch, I would still believe that I was having a bad day.
Life, it shows us things we are too myopic to see. Teaches us
lessons we are too reluctant to learn. Gives us individuals we don’t value enough to love. Count our blessings, cherish what we have and be contented. For
what we have, others may yearn. Should we not learn to be contented, we will
never be happy.
