We both pressed the ‘G’ button in the lift, while sharing a 'hi' smile with a momentary eye
contact. I am generally reserved when it
comes to talking to strangers except when they pull up a conversation.
“Goin fo lunch?” he
asked in his Chinese English accent.
“Haiyya” I replied
showing off my Cantonese.
The lift door closed.
“Veli hot outsigh”
he said, adjusting the bunch of lunch boxes he was carrying bearing address
slips.
“You deliver?” I
asked the obvious question to be sure.
“Yes, yes” said he, wiping his forehead.
“25th floor. Yee sap m lau” – Computer-generated
voice interrupted.
“You so old. You still
work?” I couldn’t stop intriguing.
“For my grandson” he
murmured.
“You should take rest
at home. No more work lah!” I said expressing compassion.
“Life difficult. It is OK lah!”
said he smilingly, summing it up as concisely as possible, carrying a
reflection of his life.
I don’t know if his last statement signified acceptance or
revolt or an emotion voicing his defeat. I don’t even know if he had fought
enough.
But I respect him for gracefully honoring the struggle that was meant
to be his.
In the midst of hate, I found there was, within me, an invincible love.
ReplyDeleteIn the midst of tears, I found there was, within me, an invincible smile.
In the midst of chaos, I found there was, within me, an invincible calm.
I realized, through it all, that…
In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.
And that makes me happy. For it says that no matter how hard the world pushes against me, within me, there’s something stronger – something better, pushing right back.
Truly yours,
Albert Camus ( The Stranger)
Nothing happens by chance, my friend... No such thing as luck. A meaning behind every little thing, and such a meaning behind this. ~ Richard Bach
To a Stranger
PASSING stranger! you do not know how longingly I look upon you,
You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking, (it comes to me, as of a dream,)
I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you,
All is recall’d as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate, chaste, matured,
You grew up with me, were a boy with me, or a girl with me,
I ate with you, and slept with you—your body has become not yours only, nor left my body mine only,
You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pass—you take of my beard, breast, hands, in return,
I am not to speak to you—I am to think of you when I sit alone, or wake at night alone,
I am to wait—I do not doubt I am to meet you again,
I am to see to it that I do not lose you.
~ Walt Whitman