Speaking about giving can sometimes be a challenging topic to preach on.I sure lack that defining virtue of being able to give something willingly,if I am well aware that it is not being put to excellent use.A prime example is an experience I had yesterday whilst on my way out to somewhere.A crippled man,balancing himself on a walking aid,with a sling bag and a laminated paper approached me.Instinctively,I knew the script that he was gonna say.A zillion times have I refused such advances from the swarms of Mats and Minahs.Yet this time,I felt different.A sense of obligated responsibility engulfed me.My heart skipped a bit as it wrestled with that concept of buying a thirty cents pen for two dollars.Alas,the spirit was willing and I gave the man that unreserved two dollars.And I let the inner demons to rest…
When I got back,I saw the crippled man again by the side of the NTUC mart at my train station.He was sitting by the pavement,with an atrocious tattooed,dyed hair,Mat beside him.The Mat was rummaging his hands in the pocket of the crippled man as crisp two dollar notes fell to the ground,accumulating into a heap of notes.Yes,a heap of notes.On rough observed calculation,it would have amounted by the hundreds.That’s the heap I’m talking about.And the crippled man had a grimacing look on his face as he was struggling to get the notes out.Instantaneously,I muttered a silent prayer,”Ya Allah,cleanse my thoughts!”For I felt angered.I felt exploited.I felt cheated.It’s not just my two dollars.It’s a whole amounted dollars from Malay folks.People who would have laid a sympathy vote for the perspiring crippled man as he went around asking for that two dollars.And this bloody Mat comes around at the end of a day’s work,to collect his dues?I will not even wanna go into the validity of the so called mentioned charity.It irks me.Just when I thought that was the end of it all,I was proven wrong.Having a late dinner session with my wife over at Causeway Point had me witnessed the same thing.Apparently,these “syndicated movement”shifts its location occasionally.And yes,there he was,the crippled man,pouring his keeps fro the day for a group of Mats and Minahs.
I realize that I am not necessarily irked by the mentioned parties.Maybe I’m just irked by the fact that the parties were clearly victims of circumstances.The Mats and Minahs,just happen to be the scourge of the community,by the default system of poor upbringing.Or as an Indian football pundit once commented,”An utter waste of his father’s sperm.”I agree.The disabled man was just a classic victim of incapability.That utter helplessness of being able to be economically independent.If he was exploited by those Mats and Minahs,my sincerest prayers go out to him.But having said all this,they are still just a notch higher than the scores of supplicating missionaries going around Geylang on foot.Those same people who will stand in front of you and utter supplications and invoke the name of Allah for pittance.These very same people who will indulge themselves with a hard pack of Malboro Menthol,and continuing into the day without fulfilling their obligatory prayers.And yes,you can see them in naked glory come this Ramadhan.If in the unlikeliness of events you come face to face with them,here are two tips for you,
1.Ask if they have solah before you give
2.Tell them the Prophet does not condone begging
I’ve tried it before,and I can tell you it will still not work in deterring them,because they are happy with your two dollars.Law enforced Singapore does not allow public bashing,though my primal animal instincts would have done its fair bit.
Going for a wedding reception yesterday was just a delight.That is about the only occasion when you can see our community dressed in elegant clothings and so forth.Where socialites indulged themselves in a hotel banquet dressed in the luxuries of life,I guess we should just be contented with that splurge of ego scented of an image during a ‘jemputan’.Women with chests out,and butts up.Men with chests up,stomachs in.It was a visual treat.There were plenty of eye candies around.All walking on air.See what a little tinge of mascara can do to self esteem.
Alias Kadir was the singing deejay.I saw a cat lying dead by the road.[See what I have just did.I have just included two totally unrelated sentences in a line,consecutively.It is now up to your interpretation.]
I’m dead beat.I slept at 1130 pm whilst my wife was still doing her lesson plans into the wee hours of the morning.I think that is why I can never be a teacher.I am too random with my habits.I can never sit down and do a lesson plan.
Are you aware that I have this random evil fantasy of sticking my foot out,if children are running around.I do not know why I just have this morbid urge to do so.I keep visualizing it.Gosh.
Here is a random thought.If I can be in a random place now,it will be along the hallways of a 20th floor hotel,at the random time of 2349hours,randomly wearing just a towel,with my random partner in Giselle Bunchen,locking me out from the random room of 43,as I randomly noticed that the random chambermaid in Paris Hilton is randomly making her way down the hallways.My random act will have to be that off putting my two hands across my mouth to stifle the random act of screaming,as my randomly red towel falls to the ground.The rest is just a random conclusion left to your random interpretation.
It’s good to be a random at times.